Page 87 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

Helena well remembered. “He promised that everything would stop if only I’d sign it. He so desperately wanted that money.”

“Did your courage never fail you?” Mr. Pelham asked.

She gave him a puzzled frown. “You think it was courage that kept me from signing? I assure you it wasn’t. I was never more frightened in my life than in the months after my brother disappeared. By the end, I would have signed anything my uncle put before me, and gladly. But I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He’d already gone too far, you see.”

Mr. Pelham’s face was inscrutable. “You believe he would have put you away regardless.”

“Yes,” she said. “I know he would have.”

“Do you think she’s all right?” Finchley asked.

Justin crossed the parlor and sat down. Helena had retired to her room to rest. Pelham’s interview had exhausted her. She’d been left pale and drained, still trembling long after he’d gone. “No. I don’t.”

“Perhaps you should go to her.”

“Miss Holloway is with her,” Justin said. “Her presence has made mine rather superfluous.” He was unable to keep the twinge of aggravation out of his voice. Since their arrival at the house in Half Moon Street, Miss Holloway had supplanted him as Helena’s advocate and protector. She seemed to feel it was her right to always be at Helena’s side.

“Ah. Well, I suppose it’s for the best. Given what’s transpired, Lady Helena will appreciate the support of another female.” Finchley slipped his notebook and pencil back into the interior of his coat. “We’ve asked the unthinkable of her, you know. Most ladies can’t speak about their bodies—or anyone else’s—without falling into a faint. Even Keane’s wife, as sensible a female as you’ll ever meet, refers to chicken breast as chicken bosom. It’s ridiculous, but there it is.”

Justin was unable to be philosophical about the matter. His blood was still boiling at the thought of anyone putting their hands on Helena. At her description of how Glyde had forced her out of her clothing and into the cold bath, he’d been hard pressed not to charge out into the street, find the blackguard, and tear him to pieces. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep his countenance.

“Ladies are delicate, by nature,” Finchley went on. “I suppose that’s what I admire about Miss Holloway. She’s a strong, efficient female, with no nonsense about her.”

“She’s a managing female.”

Finchley set his spectacles more firmly onto his nose. “Not every fellow wants to go about rescuing damsels in distress. We can’t all be heroes. Some of us aspire to nothing more than a congenial companion with whom to share the yoke of life.”

“How appealing you make it sound. Share the yoke of life, indeed. As if you were two oxen.” Justin leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out before him. “Good God, Tom, you need to get out more.”

“This from the fellow who was obliged to find love through a matrimonial advertisement.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Finchley’s brow furrowed. “You do love her, don’t you?”

Justin sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was to discuss his feelings for Helena with Tom Finchley. The man was his best friend. Practically a brother. But the bonds of friendship only stretched so far. “I care for her. Very much.”

“But you don’t love her.”

Justin rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a long moment. “I often wonder if I’m even capable of the emotion.”

Finchley’s face set into a meditative frown. It was the exact expression he wore when puzzling over a particularly thorny legal issue. “Perhaps you merely don’t recognize it. Neither of us has had much experience with loving anyone or being loved in return. I know I haven’t.”

“Nor I,” Justin said. “What a depressing pair we are.”

“I don’t know,” Finchley mused. “We seem to have done all right between us. And who’s to say? Love might well do more harm to our lives than good. It’s the cause of endless strife. I can tell you that much from my experiences in the law. Violence, murder, mayhem. All committed in the name of love.”

“I’d as soon have loyalty,” Justin said. “It seems a far more valuable quality.”

“Loyalty is essential, yes. And friendship wouldn’t be amiss. It’s steadier. Less volatile than love.”

“Precisely.”

“Are you and Lady Helena friends?”

“We are. Quite good friends, or so I have reason to hope.”

“Huh.” Finchley considered this. “Since you’ve said that, I’ll admit that, in addition to friendship, I wouldn’t disdain a small degree of tenderness from a woman. A soft word or look.”