Why would a pious man try to kill them?
“It shouldn’t be difficult to trace the owner. Only fifteen were made and presented to those who protected the field hospital in the Battle of Mont-Saint-Jean.”
“Mont-Saint-Jean?” Nicholas said, keeping his composure while she caressed his thigh. “They were given after Waterloo?”
“Yes, to men of rank and to the families of those who died saving the hospital.”
Helen looked at Sebastian and frowned. “Lord Brompton died at Waterloo. I didn’t ask any questions because Lady Brompton still finds it distressing. But what reason would she have to run us off the road? And I’m quite certain the passenger was a man.”
“We should find a record of recipients at the War Office,” Sebastian said. “I shall venture to Whitehall this afternoon and see if Lord Brompton’s widow received a ring on his behalf.”
This afternoon?
Was he not coming to Windsor?
Mr Chance slapped his hands on the table. “Well, there isn’t much more for me to tell you other than I spoke to some men at the card table last night, and I have news concerning the other matter we—”
“It can wait until later,” Nicholas blurted.
Mr Chance jerked his head. “But you wanted to know if the gossips were correct, if Parbrook had returned to town.”
Parbrook!
The name sent an icy shiver to her toes.
Her stomach roiled.
“Mr Parbrook is in London?” She could feel her heart palpitating just below her chest bone. Sebastian glanced at Nicholas and lowered his gaze. “You both knew that monster had returned, and neither of you thought to tell me.”
Mr Chance coughed into his fist to interrupt them. “I spoke to his cousin and can confirm the gentleman is still in Dieppe, where he plans to wait the required year before attempting to return.”
Only a year? She supposed that was some consolation.
“I received an anonymous letter stating he was in town,” Sebastian confessed, his tone lacking the usual arrogant flair. “I went to find him the day you journeyed to Grayswood. To call him out if need be.”
“Grayswood? I knew there was something odd about that.” She felt a twinge of disappointment. Neither man had trusted her with the truth. “Forewarned is forearmed. Isn’t that the saying?”
“Helen,” Nicholas began in the gentle voice he might use to bend her to his will, “we thought only of protecting you. Of course, had we proof Parbrook was in town, we would have spoken to you directly.”
“I saw no point worrying you unnecessarily,” her brother added.
“I see.” She snatched her hand from Nicholas’ lap and stood abruptly. “I think it’s fair to say everything has changed since our trip to Grayswood Folly. Most importantly, I mean to take control of my own life and not be browbeaten by a patriarch.”
Mr Chance seemed to find the comment amusing.
Sebastian scoffed. “You make me sound like an ogre, not a man who loves you and merely wants you to be happy.”
He was good at playing the victim when it suited him.
“No more lies. No more secrets,” she said, determined to seize control. “Until I marry, you’re the man I should trust most in this world, and so I intend to be honest with you.”
Sebastian arched a brow but waved for her to continue.
She pushed aside years of conditioning. “As the person in charge of this case, I will travel to Windsor with Nicholas and interview Mrs Russell while you visit Whitehall.”
Mr Chance leant back in the chair. “A man must admire a woman who knows what she wants. I think her motives are evident. Indeed, her candour makes me wish I had more sisters.”
A blush rose to her cheeks, but she gave a half shrug. “I’m in love with Mr St Clair and wish to spend more time alone with him. Fear not. When in Windsor, I shall introduce myself as Miss Smith, the enquiry agent. Mr St Clair will have to tell the truth, of course. We need to know why Esther paid the woman almost eight thousand pounds.”