She was no green chit. Sebastian often used the excuse of visiting his country estate when feeding his carnal appetite. Why would a man with Nicholas’ allure avoid female company?
“You don’t gamble,” she said, knowing not to press him on the subject of lovers. “Being an only child, it’s not a case of sibling rivalry or a fight for a title. You’re an honest man. Why would the fiend want to kill you?”
He used a linen towel from the washstand to dry his hands and then faced her. “Perhaps you’re right. Jenkins may have provoked the fellow on the road. Sometimes small things can make a man snap.”
Though he held his usual impassive expression, it was clear he wished to avoid discussions of a personal nature.
“Yes, but you mean to find him and discover the reason for yourself. Hence why you are suddenly desperate to return to town when you were looking forward to a trip away.”
He gave a mocking snort. “Does one look forward to being Lady Brompton’s puppet? She has her own version of the rules, to which we all must conform.”
“Then why come?”
The simple question seemed to stump him momentarily. He shrugged. “Your brother assumed I would, and I hadn’t the heart to decline.”
Since Michael’s death, Sebastian relied on his friend too much, and Nicholas was loyal to a fault.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, fixated on watching him tug his shirtsleeves down to hide his powerful forearms.
“For what?”
“Sebastian loves you like a brother, but he takes liberties.” Nicholas was more than capable of challenging his friend, though chose to oblige him. “You must learn to say no from time to time. It will be better for him in the end.”
Nicholas sighed. “Growing up, I had to find inventive ways to drag my mother from her melancholy. Understand, it is in my nature to please others, often to the detriment of my own happiness.”
Helen’s heart lurched. It was the first time he had spoken openly about his past. It took every effort not to perform a victory dance. But then he thrust his arms into his coat sleeves, wearing the garment like a shield.
“Then, if it’s your wish to return to town, you should.” In all likelihood, the accident was a case of mistaken identity. Unless Mr Parbrook had returned to England and wanted to punish her. “Unlike my brother, I can put your needs before my own. You do not need to appease me, Mr St Clair.”
His gaze turned curious. “After such a terrifying ordeal, a lady should be desperate to keep her ally close. I cannot help but wonder why my happiness is your primary concern.”
A blush warmed her cheeks. “You’re all alone in the world. Someone must worry about you. And though my brother doesn’t mean to be selfish, I’m afraid his motives are often self-serving.”
He tilted his head and examined her with unnerving intensity. “You don’t need to worry about me, Miss Langley.” He edged towards the door, keen to leave. “Excuse me. I must visit Mrs Glover’s stables and check the horses.”
With a quick bow of the head, he was gone.
Alone in the room, Helen lay on the bed and considered the man who had left her heart and head pounding. He was hiding something, though despite numerous prompts had declined to mention his problem.
Every instinct said she should help him.
But how could she get him to reveal his secret?
And why on earth had Sebastian lied?
This whole business proved confounding.
She closed her eyes, contemplating what Lillian would do in the same situation. When one’s sister-in-law had been a female enquiry agent for the Order, one knew exactly how to tackle a case of attempted murder.
Pursue each line of enquiry, regardless of how insignificant. Ask direct and awkward questions. An agent could not afford the luxury of embarrassment. Focus on the facts, examine the evidence, and the truth always revealed itself.
The truth.
Her blood ran cold.
They might have lost their lives today. She might have died having never told Nicholas what he meant to her. Was the pain of rejection worse than the pain of unrequited love?
Perhaps it was time to find out.