Chapter 8

Sitting next to Alice, on that gloriously sunny, late summer afternoon by the side of the lake, Helen was beginning to feel that she was being accepted as one of the guests. She was now glad that she had chosen not to wear the drab uniform that Lady Helford insisted she wore every day. Her muslin dress, even though it was hardly the height of fashion, made her feel as though she was just another guest. Since they had arrived at the lake, Alice had introduced her to the other young members of the party. When they had heard that she had been in Spain and Portugal with Wellington's army, they barraged her with questions. It was a novel experience to be the centre of attention and Helen, to her surprise, enjoyed the experience.

Helen had a pleasant afternoon with Alice. After a lavish tea, served by footmen in the Earl's livery, the guests sat on large rugs admiring the view of the lake. The young ladies were delighted when Lord Huntingdon and Tom, who had both disappeared soon after tea, came into view rowing two boats. For the next hour, Huntingdon and Tom took it in turns to row the ladies across the lake.

It was starting to get late, and the shadows cast by the trees were beginning to elongate as the sun made its descent through the sky. The older guests, wanting to return to the comforts of the Hall, were congregating by the path where the barouches were waiting to take them back. The younger guests, on the other hand, were taking advantage of the beautiful late summer sunshine and had decided to walk back to the Hall en masse.

Helen was just about to join the group when she heard a familiar man's voice calling her name.

'Mrs Wakefield,' Lord Huntingdon said, 'you have not yet seen the view from the other side of the lake.' Before Helen had a chance to refuse, he continued with an air of authority in his voice. 'I will not take no for an answer.'

Alice, who was standing next to her, smiled with a knowing look sparkling in her blue eyes. 'Go,' she said, as she nudged Helen's elbow, 'go and enjoy yourself. He can be very charming when he wants to be.'

Helen hesitated. She felt a little outmanoeuvred by Alice. After yesterday, she was not sure whether she wanted to be alone with Lord Huntingdon. She had shown very little self-control, and she knew that a repeat of what had happened the previous afternoon would not be in her best interest.

'Come,' Lord Huntingdon said as he beckoned for Helen to join him, 'I promise I will be on my best behaviour.'

'Go on,' Alice said, making a shooing motion with her hands. 'I am going to walk back to the Hall with Tom.'

Helen sighed. What harm could there be to be rowed across the lake by Lord Huntingdon? He looked extraordinarily handsome, sitting in the boat that was bobbing up and down next to the jetty. He had removed his jacket earlier that afternoon, and he was standing with his shirt sleeves rolled up. The precise knot of his cravat had been loosened and his hair, that usually looked immaculate, was slightly dishevelled.

As she approached the rowing boat, he stood up and held out his hand to help her in. 'I thought I would have to come and get you,' he said, smiling roguishly. She took his outstretched hand, and he helped her into the boat.

As their fingers touched, she once again felt that connection between them. As she sat down carefully on the wooden bench in the boat, it gently rocked from side to side. He then sat opposite her and, without saying a word, he began to row to the centre of the lake with long elegant strokes.

They sat in silence as the boat glided effortlessly to the centre of the lake. She looked over to the bank where only a short time ago she had been sitting with Alice and the other guests. The bank was now deserted, and they were alone. Helen undid the ribbon of her bonnet and placed it to one side. She wanted to feel the cool breeze on her face and hair. As she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, she listened to the gentle swoosh off the boat as the ores swept through the water and propelled them smoothly along. It was a regular, hypnotic sound, and she soon began to relax. As she reached over the side of the boat with her right hand and let her fingers trail in the water, she enjoyed the sensation of the cool liquid as it flowed past her fingers.

As he rowed further away from the shore, much further than he had with any of the other young ladies he had taken out earlier, she looked over to him.

'Where are we going, my lord?' She said after a few minutes had elapsed.

'You will soon find out,' he said, looking at her and smiling broadly. 'And, Helen, I think, even if it is just for this afternoon, you should dispense with the "my lord."'

'I am not sure that would be appropriate, my lord,' Helen emphasised the "my lord" and put on an air of mock hauteur. She liked it when he called her Helen. It induced an intimacy between them that Helen found comforting. But she could not bring herself to use his given name. Calling him Ralph, even in private, would be tantamount to letting him into the secret recesses of her heart. She had only ever let two people into it; her son, Georgie, and her husband, Harry.

A few minutes later, they reached a small artificial island in the middle of the lake. It had been hidden from view by a series of large weeping willows that grew close to the edge of the lake. The long green strands of their branches dipped down into the water, making it impossible to see past them.

The small island was covered with trees. As Lord Huntingdon brought the boat to the bank, she saw a small building that had been hidden from view when they had been on the lake. It was a strange-looking building, and it reminded her of a folly that she had seen as a child on Lord Brentford's estate.

Lord Huntingdon got out of the boat and pulled it easily onto the sloped bank. He then held out his hand in an invitation for her to take it. She took it in hers, and he helped her gingerly alight from the boat. The small rowing boat rocked from side to side, and Helen nearly lost her balance. Her breath caught in her throat as he let go of her hand and put his arms around her waist and then he effortlessly lifted her out of the boat, planting her feet on the bank.

After he had put her down, he let go of her waist and took hold of her hand again. Then, without saying a word, he led her to the folly.

'Helen,' he said, as they stood in front of the building, 'do you like it?'

The building had seven columns that were covered in ivy. The ivy had almost reached the top and was beginning to creep around the elaborately carved supports. Inside, about eight feet from the columns, there was a marble bench. Behind the bench, there was a once brightly painted scene. It was difficult to make out the subjects in the paintings, as the plaster was cracking and had begun to peel away.

She put out her free hand and touched one of the columns that was thick with ivy. 'It is charming,' she said, looking up to the ceiling where she could see another painted scene.

'I stand corrected,' she said in awe. 'It is quite beautiful,' she added, as she studied the intricately painted ceiling that was in much better condition.

He was still holding her hand, and every cell in her body seem to be aware of his presence. She felt his warmth down one side of her body, and she longed for him to take her in his arms just like he had done the previous afternoon. She turned and faced him, laced the fingers of one hand through his and placed her other hand on his shoulder. He put his free hand on her hip, bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. 'Do you know how beautiful you are when you smile?'

'Are you flirting with me, my lord? Helen said, a smile playing on her lips.

'Do you have a problem with that?' He replied as his lips remained close to hers. The close physical contact sent shivers of pleasure down her spine.

She felt the years melt away as they stood together in an intimate embrace. She once more felt like she was seventeen years old before the cares of the world had crowded in around her. She could reject him and insist that he take her back across the lake to her old life of drudgery, or, she could just enjoy the feeling that that special connection and intimate embrace can give.

'No, my lord,' she said breathlessly. 'If you must know, I rather like it.'

He led her to the marble bench, and they sat down next to each other. He put his arm around her back and rested his hand on her waist and gently stroked the curve of her hip. His touch was relaxing. As she rested her head against his shoulder, she enjoyed the gentle warmth his touch evoked.

They sat in silence for a long time, just looking and listening to the world around them. The gentle rustling of the leaves in the trees, a tribe of ducks quacking and splashing in the water and the distant howl of a peacock were the only sounds that broke the silence. It was so peaceful and tranquil that Helen relaxed and closed her eyes. She felt even closer to him than she had done the day before when they had been alone in the cottage.

'Helen,' he said softly, his head leaning against hers, 'I brought you here today to apologise for yesterday.'

Helen lifted her head and looked at him. 'My lord,' she began, 'there is really no need.'

'Please Helen,' he said earnestly, 'let me finish.'

She put her head back on his chest and heard the reassuring, gentle thud of his heart.

'I am sorry for all the hurtful things I said yesterday afternoon. I was angry with you when I should have been angry with myself. I am sorry that I took advantage of you.'

'Ralph,' she said, as she lifted her head and looked at him. The last barrier she had placed around her heart to protect it from damage from the outside world, had now crumbled away. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and they began to fall down her cheeks in a steady stream.

Helen had always seen the shedding of tears, even by herself, as a sign of weakness. She had always thought that if you cried, it only showed to the world around you your own imperfections. When she had cried in front of Harry, he had accused her of manipulation. This time, it was different; Ralph was different. She did not know how, but she knew that he would not pass judgment on her.

'Ralph,' she said softly, as she felt him gently wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumb. It was such a tender gesture that it had her senses reeling. 'Please do not apologise: You saved my life. If you had not been there, I would have jumped. I have spent years burying my feelings. I found it easier to live with myself when I quelled my desires, both good and bad. Yesterday, I wanted to remember what it felt like to feel again. Standing on top of the cliffs; I felt alone. Then you were there and...' Helen stopped. It was difficult to put into words how she had felt. She took a deep breath, and she was grateful that he did not fill the silence. 'I wanted to feel, for one moment, that I was not alone,' she said in a whisper.

'Helen,' he said, as he tightened his arm around her. 'I am sorry if I hurt you. I was angry with you when I should have been angry with myself.'

'I deserve your anger,' she said, not daring to look at him, 'I lashed out, and I wanted you to despise me.'

'Why? Helen, why? Why did you want me to despise you?' He said with a note of sadness in his voice.

Helen knew that this was not the time for lies. She had to tell him the truth however painful it was going to be.

'I did not want your pity,' she said sadly. 'Ralph,' she said gravely, after a brief silence, 'I did love my husband once; a long time ago. I know what it is like to love. It is difficult to describe. It is like your soul is knit together, and you are one person with the same hopes and dreams for the future. I am sorry Ralph; I feel so foolish trying to explain it.'

'No, Helen,' he said in a low tender voice, 'no, you do not sound at all foolish.'

Helen took a deep breath; she believed him. For the first time in many years, she felt safe to talk about her feelings. It did not matter if he did not feel the same way about her, it made no difference to her future as Lady Helford's companion. She just wanted to talk to someone and tell them the truth.

'Yesterday, I felt it again. I felt it when you pulled me away from the cliff's edge. I felt it again when we made love. I felt it grow and flourish until I could hardly control the feeling anymore. It has been such a long time since I have felt anything but emptiness and loneliness. They have been gnawing away at my soul for years, and I had convinced myself that I was incapable of ever feeling again.' She turned her head and looked at him. She studied his grey eyes and saw a warmth and compassion within them. She could sense the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He was going to tell her that he loved her. Even if he thought that he loved her now, Helen knew that the feeling would not last. It had not lasted with Harry, why should it last now.

Ralph bent his head and kissed her gently. 'Helen,' he said softly. She put her fingers lightly on his lips. 'Ralph,' she said sadly, 'do not say it. Please do not make an empty declaration.'

Ralph felt desolate when he heard her words. He wanted to tell her that he loved her and always would, but there was something in her request that had touched him. He had heard the desperation in her voice and recognised it. He too had felt that hopelessness she described. 'We are very similar,' he said, in a whisper, 'I have also buried my feelings for years.'

'Then you must understand why we must hide these feelings,' she said as she looked at him earnestly. 'If we do not, we will only end up hurting each other.'

Ralph looked into her amber eyes that were brimming with hurt. What had happened to her that had caused her so much pain?

'What happened?' he said, after a lengthy silence, 'to make you so unhappy.'

'An unhappy marriage,' she said, looking at her hands in her lap.

He waited for her to speak, but when she remained silent, he knew he needed to probe further. There was more to her story than just an unhappy marriage. Her current position as Lady Helford's companion, when she should be looked after by her husband's family, only confirmed his suspicions. He had to tell her something about his past so that she would know that he was genuine.

'It was my father,' he began. 'For all the world, he was a loving husband and caring father, but it was all a façade. At least my brother, Alex, and I escaped to school. I did not find out the true extent of what he had done until after his death.'

'Your mother's paintings,' she said when he had faltered. 'I saw the pain.'

'Yes,' he said, 'she paints, and it helps her fight the memories. She never talks about what happened, she just keeps it bottled up inside. I suspect that is why she puts on a brave face to the world. I know all she wants to do is hide away from it.'

He understood everything. The need to hide every emotion away when just the very thought of them became too much to bear.

'I can help,' he said quietly, 'let me love you like you deserve.'

He took her hand in his and looked into her amber eyes that shone brightly with tears. 'This is no empty declaration,' he said sincerely, 'I love you. We could put the memory of my father and your husband away from us. Bury them so deep that they cannot hurt us anymore.'

She smiled and shook her head slowly. 'No Ralph,' she said sadly, 'I cannot do that. You need a wife who will be your countess and bear your children.'

'Then marry me,' he said, still looking into her amber eyes. It suddenly dawned on him; he would never find love again. He had patiently waited years for her, and he was not going to let her slip through his fingers.

'But, Ralph,' she said, clasping his hands tightly, 'you need a young bride. Someone who can provide you with an heir. I cannot do that.'

'Helen, what I need is a woman who I can love. A woman who will stand by me whatever life throws our way.' He squeezed her hand. He had to let her know how much she meant to him.

She shook her head.

'Why, Helen? Why not? He said, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

'There are things about me that you do not know; not even Tom knows about them. They are shameful, horrible things. If you knew, you would ask me to leave your house immediately. You would end up despising me.'

'Let me be the judge,' he said gravely.

'No,' she said, slowly shaking her head, 'I cannot take that risk.'

'If you cannot marry me, then be my mistress. I will look after you for the rest of my life,' he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He would agree to any arrangement, just as long as he did not lose her.

'I am so sorry,' she said regretfully, 'I cannot.' She stopped and touched his cheek, 'believe me, I would if I could, but there is Georgie, my son. Lord Brentford would refuse to let me see him.'

Ralph felt a deep sense of sadness. He knew there was nothing he could say at that moment that would persuade her to change her mind. There was a sadness in her eyes that he knew he could never take away from her.

'Helen,' he said bleakly, 'what are we going to do?'

She stroked his cheek tenderly. 'We may not have a future together, but we have the present. The memory of this moment has to be enough to last a lifetime.'

He knew she was right. All they could have was the brief memory of their time together. There was nothing else left for them. If she would not marry him, then he would have to be content with the little time they had shared. Then when it was all over, he would have to let her go.

They sat together on the bench in the folly for some time. Her head resting on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. The sun was now low in the sky, and the horizon was starting to glow orange in anticipation for its descent. Ralph knew that they needed to get back to the house before she was missed by Lady Helford. He also realised the importance of maintaining her position in society.

'Helen,' he whispered in her ear.

He felt her stir and look at him.

'We should go before we are missed.' She smiled and stood up, and they walked hand in hand towards the boat.