The Rebel’s Daughter (36 page)

Helena did not turn her head,
keenly aware of William’s hand having stilled on his quill as he
stared at the wall.
Searching for inspiration or listening
? She couldn’t be
sure.

“
My
dear,” Robert leaned in close to whisper, “despite Master Palmer’s
grasp of financial matters, which is admirable, he does not call to
see me.”

Helena stopped smiling, the time for
evasiveness over. “I would value your opinion of him,
sir.”

“
He’s
from a respectable family, and he has an excellent head for
business.”

“
Respectable? Even his aunt by marriage?”

“
Oh, my
dear. Especially her.”

Helena burst into spontaneous laughter,
which Robert joined. William turned slowly from the desk, an elbow
on the chair back behind him. Alyce and Phebe exhibited identical
frowns, their expressions demanding explanation.

Robert waved them away with his pipe. “Guy
has a thriving business of his own,” Robert said. “Which I am well
positioned to promote. Although to his credit, he has given no hint
to that effect during our association.”

“
It is
almost as if you had chosen him for me yourself, sir.” Helena said,
though a tremor of apprehension made her voice shaky. Accepting the
young man’s attentions was one thing. Marrying him quite
another.

Just then, William looked up and caught her
eye; his intense look apparently not lost on Robert, who swiveled
his head slowly toward her with a look of enquiry.

Helena looked away, aware that it would
not do to let Robert believe she toyed with his son’s affections
while treating Guy as a serious suitor.

Robert leaned toward her conspiratorially.
“Had I taken against Master Palmer, my dear, he would not still be
calling. I thought to see how things were with you on the subject,
so I may know how to respond when he offers for you.”

“
When
?
Not
if
?”

“
Assuredly when. Helena, my dear. I do believe you’ve become
quite the coquette.”

“
Master
Devereux?” she began. “If - when - Master Palmer offers for me,
would it be necessary for you to ask my brother’s
permission?”

“
I take
it you mean Aaron, for you surely do not refer to young Henry!” His
laugh ceased in the face of her stony expression. “Um, well. I
don’t profess to understand your reasons, my dear, but it’s quite
unnecessary. I am your guardian until he returns to
England.”

“
I would
prefer it.” She kept her voice low but firm.

He removed his pipe from his mouth, head
tilted as if about to request she explain herself.

“
Thank
you, Master Devereux.” Helena said, forestalling him, and returned
to her seat on the chaise next to Alyce.

“
Henry
called this morning,” Alyce said, breaking the silence that had
fallen between them. “He is still upset about Compton’s suspension.
He thinks it will hold up the building of the cathedral again if
Compton is punished.”

Helena smiled, aware her brother’s focus
was on the new St Paul’s, and not any religious
question.

“
I hear
Compton refused to discipline one of his clergy for preaching
anti-papist sermons. This had so enraged the King, he suspended
him.”

“
That
won’t make King James any more popular,” William said, his head
bent to his correspondence.

“
Compton
will be back in favor again soon.” Alyce sounded confident. “The
King himself wants the cathedral finished.”

Helena accepted a glass of the cold
lemonade from Alyce, her gaze on William, who slid his writing into
a drawer of the bureau and locked it, taking the key out of the
lock. He rose from his chair and strolled around the room, his
hands held loosely behind his back. “He wants to allow Catholics as
dons and undergraduates at Oxford and Cambridge.”

“
Where
did you hear that, Will?” Alice’s tone held skepticism.

“
At The
Grecian.” William picked fluff from his sleeve. “He argues that the
colleges were founded when England was a Catholic country, and
should therefore be available to them.”

“
Sir
Edward Hales has been acquitted for holding office in the Army.”
Robert pointed his pipe stem at his Gazette. “Blasted man’s a
Papist!”

William smiled. “What did you expect when
the king packed the court with his tame judges? The verdict was a
foregone conclusion.”

“
Have
you read this news-sheet before me?” Robert glared at his son,
accusing. “The King is making Parliament irrelevant.”

He clamped his teeth down on his pipe so
hard, the stem broke off in his mouth. He spat the pieces out and
hurled them into the hearth.

“
I think
you’ll find Parliament will hold out against the King’s attempts to
repeal the Test Act.” Alyce said, revealing an intellect as a rule
she kept well hidden.

“
What?
Oh yes, I suppose you are right,” Robert mumbled, though Helena
doubted he was convinced.

Helena allowed their chatter to pass over
her head, her thoughts still on Robert’s endorsement of Guy Palmer
as a potential husband.

Guy had become such a familiar face at
Lambtons, Helena discovered that to avoid him successfully would
have meant her virtual exile from her own home. Yet strangely, when
he did not call, she missed him.

Respectful and engaging, he had the
ability to correctly judge her mood, so when she felt
uncommunicative, he happily chatted to others, bestowing gentle
smiles on her from a distance. She had to acknowledge Robert was
right; he would make an excellent life companion.

William had resumed his seat and was twisting
one hand back and forth, studying the way the light caught his
emerald ring. With a sigh, Helena consigned him to the back of her
mind. A pity he was such a fop.

“
Have
you heard from your brother lately, Helena?” Robert
asked.

“
Yes,
Master Devereux. I fear he is still plotting with the Prince of
Orange, although he appears to be living well in
The
Hague
.”

“
He
does? Do tell us.” Phebe slid along the settle toward her, her face
eager.

“
He has
purchased a house which he has thrown open to other fugitives, so
they may spend their days in scheming and leisure.”

“
I
almost envy him.” William laughed.

Helena stayed silent on the subject of
Aaron’s decisions. The fact both her brothers had left her to fend
for herself in a world where men made all the decisions still
aroused her anger.

That her future would depend on the good
nature of whomever she married, remained a truth she found
difficult to reconcile. That she was fond of Guy, enjoyed his
company and looked forward to his visits, was a reason to view an
offer of marriage with favour.

Guy was not rich, but he was capable,
ambitious and according to Robert, extremely hardworking.
Therefore, if marriage was the only way she could regain her status
in life, then marry she would.

If Robert’s prediction came
true, when Guy declared himself, she would accept him and put
herself out of the influence of both Aaron and Henry. Even if her
father should return, he could not overrule the wishes of a
husband. As time passed, everyone told her Sir Jonathan Woulfe must
surely be dead. She refused to believe it.
Not yet
.

She glanced at William, who had resumed
his seat at the bureau and his writing. Let him write all the silly
verses he wants; he would regret it when she was
married.

Chapter
22

Henry accepted an invitation from Master
Newman to take a glass of claret in his private sanctum in Charles
Street; a small room at the front of the house strewn with maps,
pens, tools and miscellaneous cartons piled up in one corner.

“
Is this
a special occasion, if I may ask?” Henry accepted the full glass.
He hadn’t been asked to sit, so he leaned against the desk where he
studied a plan of a church.

“
Ask
away, my boy, ask away.” Francis Newman grinned as he poured ruby
liquid his own glass. “Mistress Newman and I are celebrating a
forthcoming marriage.”

Henry took a mouthful of his wine, not
anticipating Newman’s next words. “My beautiful daughter is to
become a bride.”

A knot of dread descended onto Hendry’s
chest, hovered there and slowly expanded. He swallowed.
“You…er…have five beautiful daughters,” Henry stammered, the
drawing forgotten. “To which of them do you refer?”

Master Newman guffawed. “Well, two of them
are well below marriageable age, one is still in the schoolroom,
and the other not prepossessing enough to attract any young man’s
fancy.” He paused at Hendry’s startled look. “Not that I would
disparage my sweet Joanna to her face. However, I’m sure you can
guess who the fortunate daughter is.”

Henry set his glass aside, eliciting an
enquiring look from his host.

“
Not to
your taste?” Newman asked, surprised.

“
It is
excellent, sir, but I have a headache I am reluctant to worsen.” A
lump formed in his throat. “All-allow me to congratulate you on
your news.” Aware his hopes were about to be cruelly dashed, still
a contrariness rooted him to the spot, as he waited for the damning
words to be spoken.

Newman frowned. “I’m sorry, Henry, I had
no idea. You must retire and get some sleep.” He patted Henry on
the back. “Before you go, I must tell you that Sir Joshua Holt has
offered for my Mary Ann. They are to be married in two months. Is
that not excellent news?”

The blood in Hendry’s ears roared and his
mouth opened and closed like a fish. Was it possible his employer
did not see how this news affected him? Or perhaps he knew how
Henry felt about Mary Ann, and this was his way of ensuring his
apprentice never declared himself?

“
I-I
don’t believe I know the gentleman.”

“
He is
extremely wealthy.” Newman’s eyes glowed in appreciation. “There is
an estate in Hertfordshire that runs to three thousand acres, not
to mention a fine townhouse with at least fifty servants. He has a
nephew.” This was said almost regretfully. “He will inherit, as the
estate is entailed, but the portion he has agreed to settle upon
Mary Ann is…oh well, perhaps I shouldn’t dwell on it.” He gave a
sheepish grin. “Suffice it to say, he is a fine match for my
girl.”

A dense fog wrapped itself around Hendry’s
senses, but Newman ploughed on. “He’s somewhat older than she is.”
He looked momentarily uncertain, then a smile twitched at the
corner of his mouth. “The truth of the matter is he’s thirty years
older, but what does that matter, if he gives my daughter a place
in society?”

Thirty years! Henry fought to keep his
face impassive. The man was older than Newman himself. How could he
give his beautiful Mary Ann to an ageing lecher, no matter how
wealthy and respected he might be? He shook the thought away,
realising how ridiculous that was; were not wealth and society what
mattered to everyone?

To discover he was not penniless and alone
had changed everything for Henry. Having some of his father’s
wealth at his disposal was what enabled him to be in Master
Newman’s drawing room, dressed in gentleman’s clothes and drinking
a gentleman’s wine. It was wealth and society that would allow him
to fulfill his dream and become an architect, visit rich men’s
homes as an equal and enjoy their society.

For Mary Ann, the question was far
simpler. She belonged to her father, to be given in marriage by
him, to a man who could provide for her and offer her a secure
home, a future, and respectability.

“
And
Mistress M-Mary Ann, does she consent to this match, sir?” Henry
hardly recognised the sound of his own voice as he stumbled over
her name.

“
Eh?”
Newman asked distracted, apparently oblivious to Hendry’s
discomfort. “Oh, I have not yet informed her of her good fortune,
but I don’t expect anything but submissive gratitude from that
quarter.”

Newman paused in thought, the wine pitcher
still clutched in his hand. “I admit, I’ve heard disturbing tales
from other fathers whose daughters have given them all manner of
difficulties over the subject of marriage. Praise be, I have a
dutiful child, who would never go against me or her
mother.”

Newman raised the pitcher as an invitation
for a refill, which Henry declined. Instead, he left his on the
table, fearing he would choke.

Pleading his worsening headache as an excuse
to cut short the conversation, Henry stoically offered his
congratulations and withdrew.