Page 64 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
Had he not been so worried about Helena, James thought that his heart would burst with joy at that very moment. The initial anger at her having kept her true relationship with him a secret all these years was far outweighed by the knowledge that he’d had a true mother all along. That the woman who had left him without so much as a backward glance had never truly accepted him as her own. He could let go of the past now.
Which oddly enough allowed him to finally let go of the anger he’d carried for far too long by that abandonment. Not that it had been right — Amelia had adopted him as her own child but had made no effort toward him after that paper had been signed. For he’d seen the paper by now and the promise it had represented. No, Amelia had never actually claimed him as her child despite her promise to his father.
And while that coldness on her part might have hurt at the time, had he not always had his true mother right there at his side, guiding him and teaching him? Had she not always been there to give him the love that his child’s heart needed?
“All this time…” He stared at her, and she could only nod at him and smile, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“All this time,” she echoed. She reached for his hand.
“But Helena…” he said, and he ached anew with the worry that he’d been trying so hard to suppress. “You think she is genuinely in danger?”
“I do not know, my son…I wish I had more confidence. Maybe we are both wrong.” She bowed her head to pray.
The manor gates loomed before them in the darkness. James nudged his mother, pointing them out to her, but she’d already seen them. “Go,” she said to him before the cutter had even slid fully to a stop. “Go and find Helena. I will follow.”
James hesitated. She was too newly ill, but he saw the footmen hurrying from the house. He leapt from the sleigh and grabbed the sleeve of the first man he saw. “Where is the Lady Barrington?”
The man could only shrug. James glanced back at the sleigh and saw that his mother was already being helped from her nest of blankets, half carried despite her protests. There was nothing he could do except get in the way even if he did stay. So, it was, he leaped up the steps to the door, nearly falling into the arms of Barrington’s own man who hovered just inside.
“You there, where is Lady Barrington?” he asked before he’d even righted himself.
“I believe she is in the parlor—” Antony started, but James spared not a moment to explain but left quickly. Had it only been a few hours since he’d left home? It seemed at once forever and no time at all.
There was no time for knocking or niceties, despite the protests of the man who’d followed behind him, intent on doing his duty. James threw open the door which hit the wall behind it with such force it was a wonder it didn’t come off the hinges. But he was too late, for he saw Barrington kneeling over her prone form, her body limp.
Lady Helena Barrington did not appear to be breathing.
Chapter 44
“What happened?” James swept Helena into his arms, helping to ease her down on the sofa so that she was lying flat.
Barrington shook his head. “I do not know. We were talking. Suddenly she fell. She couldn’t breathe.”
“How long ago did this happen?” Lucy asked from the door, as she pushed into the room past the gathering servants.
“Moments ago. It all happened so fast…”
Lucy pushed between them both, “Then there is still time. Think! What was she doing before — just before it happened?” She bent to press her head to Helena’s chest. “The heart beats but the sound seems faint. We have very little time before she dies. Speak up, Your Grace, if you know anything, the time to tell it is now.”
“The jar…under the settee…she was going to put the lotion on, I think…”
James knelt and found what he was talking about. Without a lid, the smell of strawberries was very strong.
“Get that out of here! Quickly or we lose her.” Lucy raised her head as Helena convulsed, her mouth gaping, trying to draw breath where there was none.
“Is it the strawberries?” James asked hoarsely, thrusting the jar at the butler who had followed him. The man stared at the jaw and whirled, taking it from the room.
“It is. I need someone who has a steady hand with a knife. Quickly. I saw this once, years ago. But we haven’t much time. Someone skilled in butchering perhaps…”
“No!” Barrington rose up then in a fury, his hands coming down on Lucy’s shoulder, wrenching her away from the dying girl.
“Then we lose her. Would you prefer that, Your Grace?” she asked, as James’s own hand came down on top of that of the older Duke’s.
“I know of what she is speaking. I have not seen it done but have heard about it. ‘Twould be better if there was a doctor present, but we will do what we must. Your Grace, if you are willing to save your daughter, we need both a reed pen and a knife. Brandy. Quickly.”
“I have also heard of this operation…” Barrington stared at his daughter a long moment and then turned away, shouting orders to those who were crowding around the door in the hallway, trying to see into the room.
“Begging your pardon, but I can clearly see your hands are shaking,” Antony said suddenly to James. “Your Grace, my wife would perhaps be best…would the Lady who seems to know so much be so kind as to instruct her.”
