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Chapter 17
Crashing Down
“Helena. Judith. How good to see you.”
“The pleasure is all ours, Mr Morton.” Helena grinned.
To Edward it was apparent that something was amiss from the moment Mr Momplaisir told him the St. George sisters were coming to see him in his study. Now, as they floated through the open doorway with eager smiles, he felt a hand grip his heart still tighter.
Whatever these two are happy about, it is not likely to be good for any of us.
“Tea for three, please, Mr Momplaisir,” said Edward while Helena and Judith sat in chairs around the study’s low table. The aged butler, solemn and silent as a tomb, turned and left the room to carry out this order.
“I am assuming you ladies would care for another cup of tea? I had rather thought you had already returned home after your tea with Miss Clara,” Edward said, taking a seat and trying not to think of the woo he and Clara had pitched on these same surfaces not twenty-four hours earlier.
“Huh! Are we not welcome for another pot of tea, then?” Judith laughed, raising a hand to her breast in a show of shock. “I am terribly sorry if we are draining the St. George coffers with all our tea-drinking.”
My, how completely I did not miss this. Suppressing a sigh, Edward reminded himself to profusely thank the sisters’ husbands for taking them away from this house at the next opportunity.
“No, I didn’t…of course you—” Edward protested.
Helena extended a hand as though to stop her sister in her tracks and gave a tinkling laugh. “Now, Judith, there’s no need for that. Of course Mr Morton was just extending the hospitality of the house to us.”
Edward blinked. “Er…yes, quite.”
Now I am sure something must be wrong, he thought, swallowing hard. In all the years I have been coming to the St. George estate, I have never once known Helena to nip a blossoming argument in the bud.
Then Helena turned to him with a shark-like grin. “Though it is funny you should bring up our dear half-sister, Mr Morton. In fact, that is precisely the matter we had hoped to discuss with you.”
Edward felt his heart seize in his chest. “Oh?” he choked out.
What plot do they have brewing now? From their demeanour, it must be quite nefarious indeed.
A hush fell over the room as Anna walked in with the tea tray. Edward felt a bead of sweat appear at his forehead and noted Helena looking on this reaction with glee. He did not dare speak a word until the maid had poured the tea and left the room.
Even then, he allowed himself another moment of worry as he dropped a spoonful of sugar into his tea, stirred it, and raised it to his lips as casually as possible. “What exactly is the matter, then?”
“We know,” Judith said with sinister glee.
Edward took a sip of tea as he frowned in puzzlement. “Know about what?”
Helena smirked. “About your romance with your Miss Clara.”
Though he kept his face a steady, unbothered mask, internally Edward released a scream of anguish as a thousand terrible possibilities unfolded before him at once. The St. George house would be embroiled in scandal, poor Christopher would be beset by disapproval and awkward questions—who knows, maybe these two harpies would even try to have Clara taken away somehow. And all because of him.
“Don’t even think about denying it,” said Judith. “Helena and I both saw you kissing not an hour ago. Out in the garden.” That awful, menacing laugh trickled from her lips, and for the first time in his life, Edward regretted being such a man of peace.
He set down his cup slowly, looking at the reflection in the dark fluid held within. It seemed to Edward that the man looking back up at him from the teacup was a very sad, broken man indeed.
“Supposing you have the right of it, then,” he said in a measured tone. “Which I do not grant, mind you. What then?”
“Why, isn’t it obvious?” asked Helena with a note of cheeriness in her voice. “Stop this farce of a dalliance, leave the girl to pursue her own base interests, swear you will discontinue any such improprieties, and we need never speak of it again.”
A flash of anger came to Edward’s cheeks. “Forgive me, my ladies, but even if you are correct, I fail to see how it is any of your business with whom I choose to spend my time. You have no standing to dictate my actions in marriage—or any relationship, that is.”
He froze, taken by surprise by what he had just said. Is that even what I want? Edward asked himself, but he was not given a moment to contemplate this realization before they continued the attack.
Helena guffawed at this. “Marriage, then, is it?” She elbowed Judith jovially as though this were a terrific joke. “I told them Mr Morton possessed too trusting a disposition to be an effective guardian, didn’t I, Judith?”
