proposal. If they did not want me without money, then I certainly was not about to hand it, and myself, over to any of them once I’d got it! Besides,’ she had pointed out astutely, ‘men always think they know best. If I’d had a husband he would never have permitted me to adopt you. And then where would we both be?’
Helen had gone quite cold inside. If Isabella Forrest had been more conventional, and had meekly married to please her family, Helen shuddered to think where she would be. From that moment on she had never questioned the older woman’s decision to remain single again. And as she had grown she had found that she too was rather strong-willed, and would likely find it just as difficult as Aunt Bella to have to defer to a man, whether he was right or wrong, simply because convention decreed it.
‘Aunt Bella said she saw no reason to hand her fortune over into the hands of some man who would fritter it away.’
Instead she had managed to lose it all on her own. Helen blinked and hung her head. Her poor aunt’s humiliation was complete. After a lifetime of striving for independence, she was reduced to begging a man—this man, the head of her extended family—for her daily bread.
‘Did she formally adopt you?’ Lord Bridgemere asked sharply.
Helen nodded.
‘Which is why you go by the name of Forrest now. Although you were born Helen de Bois de St Pierre?’
‘Helène, to be precise,’ she informed him. ‘But, since there is so much prejudice against the French on account of the war, my aunt thought it better to Anglicise me as much as possible.’
He nodded, as though accepting the wisdom of that, and then said casually, ‘Did she by any chance make you her sole heir as well?’
She nodded again.
Well, that explained the General’s antipathy to this young woman. He would still have had hope, whilst his sister remained unmarried, that some part of her fortune might revert to him upon her demise. Until she had adopted Helen and made her the sole beneficiary of her will.
It always came down to money in the end.
A cynical expression swept over his face as he clasped his hands together on the desktop, leaned forward and said, ‘Speaking of which, perhaps now you would be good enough to get to the real reason why you requested this private interview with me?’
Helen frowned. ‘I do not understand.’
He made a gesture of impatience. ‘Do not take me for a fool, Miss Forrest. You all come here each Christmas for one reason and one reason only.’ He got to his feet and strode to the window.
‘I came with my aunt because I felt she needed my support. That is all.’
‘You expect me to believe you want nothing from me?’ he sneered, whirling round.
‘Nothing at all. Except…’
‘Yes, now we come down to it,’ he said, his face a tight mask of fury. ‘Think very carefully before you make your petition known to me. Because once you leave this room you will not get another chance to speak to me in private! I grant each of you one interview and only one.’
It was imperative he put her back with the rest of them. He should never have singled her out for special treatment simply because she had not known who he was when she first came here, and had made the mistake of letting him see her true self.
‘My decision,’ he warned her, ‘whatever it may be, is irrevocable! Do not think you will be able to sway me from it!’
Helen got slowly to her feet. ‘I do not know what suspicions you harbour where I am concerned, but I repeat: the only reason I came to you today was to clear the air between us and beg you to put any animosity you may feel for me to one side when you consider Aunt Bella’s future. Neither of her brothers is likely to show her any mercy after the stand she took against them in her youth. She has nobody but you to depend on now. And if you will not take pity on her—’
‘Do you not want me to take pity on you, too? Is your need not as desperate as hers?’
‘No,’ she replied calmly. ‘My case is not at all desperate. I am young and strong and quite capable of looking after myself.’
‘You expect me to believe you want nothing from me?’
His implication that she was not only dishonest but also incapable of looking after herself was really beginning to grate. ‘Nor any man!’ she flashed. No wonder Aunt Bella had taken the almost unheard of decision never to marry. ‘I repeat: I am quite capable of looking after myself. And even if I were in need of help, why should I apply to you? I have no claim on you. We are not related.’
‘That would not stop most women…’
‘It would stop any woman with an ounce of pride!’ she retorted.
‘Of which I observe you have more than your fair share.’
Without her conscious decision, her hands curled into fists at her sides. At this very moment she wished she were a man, with the freedom to come to fisticuffs with him! Her only recourse as a female was to tell him exactly what she thought of his horrid opinions of women. But she could not do even that! She had come here to mend fences, to smooth the way for her aunt—not to start a completely new family feud.
He could see her battling with her temper. For one moment he had the impression she was about to fling herself at him bodily. He braced himself for the onslaught, imagining himself capturing her wrists as she tried to strike at him. Subduing her by twisting her arms behind her back. Showing her exactly who was in charge here by stopping that saucy mouth with a hard kiss.
He caught his breath. Took a step towards her.
‘Miss Forrest…’ His voice, he realised to his surprise, was hoarse.
She put up one hand, as though to ward him off.
‘Enough!’
‘But—’
‘No,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I think I had better leave before one of us says something they will regret.’
It was not what he had been about to say she was saving herself from, he reflected grimly as she strode away to the door. But what he had been so sorely tempted to do.
‘I think for once—’ He flinched as she slammed the door shut behind her, sank into his chair, and finished softly, ‘I completely agree with you.’
He felt stunned. Yet strangely energised. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be struck by lightning. There had definitely been something elemental about that encounter.
Miss Forrest, he acknowledged with a hollow laugh, could truly be described as a force of nature.
After breakfast Mrs Dent herself came to the drum room, gushing apologies, and a veritable army of staff moved all their possessions to a new suite of rooms, down on the main floor where the other guests were staying.
‘Since we have discovered you are a guest, and not a servant, your things will be moved down here, too,’ the housekeeper said to Helen.
Adjoining her aunt’s bedchamber was a small but beautifully decorated room, which would afford Helen privacy whilst keeping her close enough to her aunt for peace of mind.
It took most of the rest of the day to organise things to their satisfaction, but as dusk began to fall her aunt remarked, ‘I think we had better go down for dinner a little earlier this evening. I do not want anyone to think I am hiding away, as though you or I have anything to be ashamed of.’
An image of the Earl circulating amongst his guests flashed into her mind. The prospect of perhaps speaking to him filled her with mixed feelings. So far their exchanges had been pithy, and strangely stimulating. But tonight, with other people present, they would both be obliged to limit themselves to polite commonplaces. Which would be most unsatisfactory.