Cheryl Holt by Too Wicked to Wed

Author:Too Wicked to Wed [Wed, Too Wicked to]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

14

Helen dabbled with her mending, then paused to stare across the parlor at Sergeant Reilly. He sulked by the window, gazing out toward the hills where the road to London meandered north. He was so forlorn that it was painful to watch him.

On the spur of the moment, the Captain had claimed pressing business in the city, and he’d left, dragging a reluctant Mr. Smith with him. He hadn’t said how soon he’d return, nor had Helen felt she had any right to ask. Still, she was miserable without him. The house was so quiet, devoid of the energy he’d brought to it, and she jumped at every sound, expecting him to come barreling through the door.

She was so dependent on his presence. Her entire world revolved around him, and with him gone, she was wretched. His short absence painted an agonizing picture of what her life would be like once he went for good.

She stuck her needle through the fabric, but she wasn’t paying attention, and she stuck herself.

“Ow!” she complained.

Reilly glanced over. “Have you poked yourself, again?”

“Yes. With how clumsy I’ve become, perhaps I should give up sewing altogether.”

“Let me finish it for you.”

Reilly crossed to her and seized the cloth. Helen allowed him to have it; then she furtively spied on him as he settled himself, as he proved himself competent by taking tiny stitches. However, his concentration lasted but a minute or two; then he threw down the work and began to pace.

Reilly made her so uncomfortable that she yearned to flee. Mr. Smith was like an elephant in the middle of the room, needing to be discussed but neither of them able to broach the subject.

Helen decided to switch the direction of their contemplation. Reilly had traveled with Luke for ages, which provided Helen with an opportunity to probe for details about his background.

“How long have you known Captain Westmoreland?” she inquired.

“Years.”

“I imagine it’s been exciting, sailing with him as you’ve done.”

“On occasion.”

Reilly ignored her, and the conversation lagged, the silence stretching to infinity.

“Where is he from originally?”

“England,” Reilly said as if Helen were a dolt. “Where would you suppose?”

“I knew that,” Helen grumbled. “I meant where in England.”

“London.”

“Oh.”

“Although his mother grew up here.”

“Here? Here as in Mansfield Abbey?”

“Yes,” Reilly confirmed. “You seem surprised.”

“Very.”

“I thought everybody had heard the stories.”

“Not me.”

“Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it then.”

Wasn’t that like lighting the rug on fire? Now that the information had been gleaned, how was she to deal with it? Particularly when the bearer of the tidings was taciturn as a grizzled old soldier?

“Honestly, Sergeant,” Helen scolded, “you can’t drop a load like that, then swallow your tongue.”

“If the Captain had wanted you to know, he’d have told you. It’s not my business.”

Helen was close to shaking the recalcitrant fellow, but she didn’t. She’d spent enough time around both Reilly and Smith to grasp that they wouldn’t betray the Captain’s confidence. They were loyal to a fault, so she’d have to garner the rest of the

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