Page 43 of To Dance with a Devil

Dear Mr de Beauvoir,

It is three weeks since my last letter, and I admit I have been sunk into gloom waiting for a reply which never came. How cruel you are to me. I waited and waited for your letter and the devastating set down I felt certain you would give me and… nothing.

I can only think I must be a deal more provoking to regain your attention.

― Excerpt of a letter from Miss Matilda Butler to Mr Inigo de Beauvoir.

20th November 1814. St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

“I’m afraid she won’t see you.”

Lady Helena nodded her understanding and handed Jerome the prettily wrapped box of comfits she’d brought. “Well, perhaps you could give those to her for me, and… and tell her I’m so sorry. Hug her for me, won’t you, please?”

Jerome gave a smile that made her heart clench. “Of course.”

“Are you all right?” she asked, knowing she ought not to. Her maid had retreated to sit in the corner of the room but, even if they were alone, she suspected he’d not tell her the truth. Men were so touchy about feelings and she doubted he’d thank her for the question, but it had been his child too. In fact, he seemed perfectly wretched, the poor fellow, and she rather felt he needed a hug as much as Bonnie did.

They both looked up as the parlour door opened and the obsequious butler who had fawned over her on arrival showed in another caller. A man.

As the newcomer stepped through the door, Helena turned to look at him with interest. He was tall and athletic looking, with broad shoulders, and he carried an extravagant bouquet of exotic blooms. He brought with him the clean, fresh scent of a cold winter’s day and his dark hair gleamed with lighter gold highlights, as though the sun shone upon it, despite the grey November weather. Rather to her surprise, he ignored Helena completely and went straight to Jerome.

“Mr Cadogan,” he said, and his voice was deep and pleasant, but not at all what she was used to. “I hope you will forgive the imposition, but I wanted to check on Mrs Cadogan. I confess I have not slept since that dreadful accident. I keep seeing it and trying to think of all the ways I might have prevented—”

“Please, don’t distress yourself, Mr Knight,” Jerome said, and that same weary smile appeared again. “I have heard several accounts of the accident now and the one thing everyone agrees on is that it would have been a great deal worse if not for your skill with the horses. You have nothing to reproach yourself for.”

“And yet I feel sick with it,” he said, and Helena thought the words sounded heavy with something that sounded like loathing. “Please, tell me, is she well? The babe…?”

“We lost the child,” Jerome said, his voice very quiet. “But Mrs Cadogan is unharmed and making a good recovery. For that I am grateful indeed.”

Mr Knight blanched and then ran a hand through his hair, his expression stark. Helena watched him, noticing the hand was scarred and work worn and realising then why the voice was not quite correct. He almost spoke like a gentleman, he nearly looked like a gentleman, but he was not one. She studied him closer, intrigued.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” he said, and Helena believed him, for the man looked utterly wretched. He seemed then to remember the lavish bouquet he carried. “I brought these for Mrs Cadogan, with my very best wishes. If there is ever anything I can do for you, either of you….”

“That is most kind, Mr Knight. I’ll make certain my wife gets them. She’ll be touched, I’m sure. Oh, but do forgive my ill manners.” Jerome turned towards Helena. “Lady Helena, might I introduce you to our guest?”

Helena nodded, impatient for him to get on with it.

“Lady Helena, Mr Gabriel Knight. Mr Knight, this is Lady Helena Adolphus.”

Mr Knight gave a stiff bow, barely acknowledging Helena before returning his attention to Jerome.

“I won’t keep you any longer, Mr Cadogan. I hope you will remember my offer. If ever there is anything I can do for you, you need only ask it. I beg you will, sir, for my conscience will not sit easy if you do not. Good day, Mr Cadogan, Lady Helena.”

He left, once more barely acknowledging Helena’s presence.

“The poor man is beside himself,” she said, once the door had closed behind him.

Jerome nodded, ringing the bell for a servant. “I know. He feels responsible, though everyone said there wasn’t a thing he could do. It was a miracle it wasn’t a great deal worse, from what I’ve been told, and I’ve him to thank for that.”

“What did he mean, if there was ever anything he could do for you? Who is he that he can make such an offer?”

Jerome looked at her in surprise. “You’ve not heard of him?”

Helena shook her head.

“He’s vastly wealthy. Owns half of London from what I can tell, property all over the place. Hotels and shops and the like. It appears he’s trying to get a foothold in the ton, but of course no one will give him the time of day.”

“No wonder, if he’s so brusque with all the ladies he meets,” she said lightly. “But no doubt I was not seeing him at his best. He’s obviously overset by the accident, and who can blame him? I shan’t hold it against him. A generous fellow, too… such beautiful hot house blooms in November. They must have cost a pretty penny.” She patted Jerome’s arm, smiling at him. “Please try to persuade Bonnie to let me visit, or Matilda if she prefers, but I feel she ought to talk to one of us.”