‘No. I’d like to speak to him.’ Helen squeezed Pug’s arm. ‘I am being contrary, I know. If he should stop, will you make your excuses so that he and I may walk together?’
‘Of course I will, but you know it will set everyone’s tongue wagging again.’ Pug gestured to the assemblage of fashionables. ‘They will have the banns up before you get to the end of the path. Have you changed your mind? Is he renewing his efforts after our rout?’ She cast Helen a sly look. ‘Perhaps prompted by Lord Carlston’s attentions?’
‘Perhaps,’ Helen whispered as the Duke saw them and, smiling, threaded his way to their side of the path.
‘Lady Helen and Lady Elizabeth!’ He bowed. ‘How delightful to meet you again.’
Helen, still arm in arm with Pug, curtseyed alongside her friend.
‘Good evening, Duke,’ she said. ‘I see that you are walking alone this evening.’
He acknowledged the loaded word with a swift glance of reassurance. ‘I am, but if you and Lady Elizabeth will do me the honour of taking my arm, that sad state of affairs can be quickly rectified.’
‘Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace, but I am afraid I must return to my mother,’ Pug said. ‘If you will excuse me.’ She curtseyed again and, with one last widening of her eyes at Helen, left them.
‘A most amenable girl,’ the Duke said, offering his arm.
Helen placed her fingers lightly on his bent elbow, glancing back at her little party a hundred yards or so behind them. Lady Margaret and Delia were questioning Pug, but she was shaking her head. Dear Pug: not one to give up a friend’s secrets. Helen turned her back on them. She would not have much time alone with the Duke. Lady Margaret would soon rid herself of Lady Dunwick and Pug and come to her aid, whether she wanted it or not.
‘Has Andrew been delayed?’ she asked as she and the Duke started along the path.
‘You might say that,’ he replied.
‘What do you mean? Has something happened?’
‘No, I assure you all is well.’
He placed his hand over her own. A passing lady in a feathered turban raised her lorgnette upon its ribbon and observed the unexpected intimacy, whispering a comment to her companion. Helen caught the answering gasp. Old cats. Even so, she shifted her grip. The Duke took the hint and lifted his own hand.
‘So where is he, Your Grace?’
‘Andrew is still in London.’
A reprieve. Yet it was not like her brother to fail a friend.
‘London?’ she prompted.
‘Yes.’
Good Lord, it was like drawing teeth. ‘Why is he still in London?’
An elderly gentleman coming in the opposite direction lifted his cane in greeting. The Duke returned a gracious nod, then said, ‘After Lady Dunwick’s rout, I wrote to your brother and told him not to come to Brighton, after all.’
Helen stared at him. Had she heard that correctly? ‘You told him not to come? Why would you do that?’
‘Because I could see that you did not wish to be pressed into leaving Lady Margaret’s house. I flatter myself that I know you, Lady Helen. If Andrew had come and insisted that you return to London as he had intended, you would have refused. Is that not true?’
‘Yes, but —’
‘I know your brother too. Under normal circumstances, he is the most easygoing of men, but in this matter he is as stubborn as yourself. The two of you would have ended up at grievous loggerheads. So, to avoid any further estrangement between you, I sent a messenger to Andrew with the suggestion that he stay in London and allow you to have your summer in Brighton with Lady Margaret under my protective eye.’
Helen walked in silence, unable to form a coherent thought through the maelstrom of emotion: relief that she would not need to face Andrew, astonishment at what the Duke had done, and dread of Lord Carlston’s reaction if he ever found out. And beneath all that, her own growing sense of anger. Such interference went well beyond propriety. It proclaimed possession.
‘You seem to have a great deal of influence upon my brother,’ she finally managed to say.
‘Yes, I believe Andrew does hold my opinion in high esteem.’ The Duke smiled at her, the expression in his eyes far too tender. ‘And very soon, I intend to offer him my advice as his brother as well as his friend.’
Lud, he was renewing his attentions with alacrity. Helen withdrew her hand from his arm.
‘Your Grace, you have already received my answer to that particular question.’ She stared fiercely at the bank of clouds across the horizon, trying to find the words that would make him abandon his hopes and retreat back into the safety of his own world. ‘We do not have an understanding. I did not ask you to do this. Forgive me, but I cannot thank you for such high-handed intervention. You are not my guardian, and nor is my brother. My uncle is my guardian, and he has offered no objection to my sojourn with Lady Margaret and Mr Hammond.’
He regarded her gravely. ‘As I understand it, your uncle no longer concerns himself in your affairs at all. I merely wanted to be of service to you. To show you that I will always protect you and your interests.’
She shook her head, trying to ignore the hurt that had settled deep in his kind blue eyes. She must stand firm. ‘You take too much upon yourself, Duke. I am in no need of a protector.’
‘You know my thoughts on that matter, and your brother trusts my instincts. He has asked me to watch over you while you are in Brighton and I have given my word to do so.’
Helen drew a frustrated breath. Andrew had, more or less, handed her over to the Duke. It was just like him to duck out of any responsibility.
Selburn reached inside his tan linen coat and drew out a packet tied with a blue ribbon. ‘Andrew sent this back with my messenger: a letter to you; and there is also one from your aunt. I am sure his missive will agree with what I have said.’
She took the offered bundle, seeing her brother’s scrawl across the front. Andrew did not know it, but he had asked his friend to stand against Lord Carlston and the Dark Days Club.
‘Your Grace, please listen to me. I do not want your protection.’
‘I have given my word, Lady Helen. But more than that, I know that you are in need of protection. Whatever you may think, you are not safe. My interest in your welfare and my continued presence will, I believe, be enough to hold Lord Carlston’s designs at bay, whatever they may be. He is not a fool; he will not make any move under such scrutiny.’
They had walked almost the whole length of the western path and were now opposite the Castle Tavern, the handsome dome of the Marine Pavilion just visible beyond. Helen focused on the promenading people ahead, desperate to find some other argument to persuade the Duke from his purpose. It was a useless exercise. She could find nothing that would convince him to break his word to her brother.