Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Arabella’s lips parted, and for a moment, she did not know what to say. His fault? How could it have been his fault?

“ I do not know what you mean. You were only a child back then. You said it happened when Helen was two, so you were only eleven. How could this have been your fault?”

Harry shrugged, looking at her again. The agony was written all over his face, and at that moment, she wanted to do nothing more than rush over and comfort him. But his posture told her that this would be a bad idea, as he seemed trapped in his thoughts.

“I was a foolish child. I had taken up playing the trumpet—something that my aunt allowed me to do but my uncle hated. Sometimes I would ride on my horse and blow a fanfare when my aunt and cousin were leaving or coming, like a welcoming committee. Helen loved it so much. She would giggle, cheer, and clap, and my aunt as well. My uncle told me many times not to do it. He said it was dangerous. But I didn’t believe him. I kept doing it.

“That day, I rode out on my pony with my trumpet. I had learned to hold myself in the saddle with just my leg so my hands would be free. I played my fanfare as they were leaving, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But then suddenly, one of the horses pulled the carriage off the road.”

Arabella frowned in confusion. “How could that be? Horses often trot alongside parades, trumpets, and such.” She rubbed her chin. “And you saw this happen?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I did not see it. They passed me by, and then the accident happened a few minutes later. But the coachman said that the horses started going out of control the moment I played my fanfare, and he had trouble getting them back under control. My uncle told me that if I did not do what I did, something he had strictly forbidden, none of this would’ve happened. He said that Helen’s condition was my fault, that my aunt’s death was my fault, that I was a stupid child.”

“No, do not say such things. You may have been a child, but you were not stupid. Indeed, I find the story rather peculiar. Are you sure it is true?”

“I am. I would’ve doubted it if it was only my uncle who told me, but I spoke to the coachman many times. I made him tell me the story again and again, and he did, not faltering once. It was my fault. All of this was my fault.”

“And your uncle is threatening you with this information? What did he say he would do?”

Harry looked at her directly now, his expression somewhere between anger and despair. “He said that if I do not do what he wants, if I reveal Helen’s existence and how he has been hiding her, he will tell the world that I was responsible for my aunt’s and Helen’s misfortunes.”

He sighed. “If he does that, nobody will look at me the same. I was afraid you would look at me differently if I told you, and I would have a lifetime of guilt on my conscience.”

“Nonsense. Even if it was true, you were a child, and it was an accident. Oh, Harry, have you carried this with you all these years? Does Helen know?”

“No,” Harry said, “and she must never know. My uncle also threatened that he would tell her that I was responsible for her mother’s death and her condition. It would destroy our relationship forever—I cannot bear it. That is also why I have kept my uncle’s secrets for so long. If Helen were to find out, it would be horrible. But if I can take her away, if I can place her somewhere my uncle cannot find her and where he cannot influence her, I’ll be able to stand up to him. I will take the wrath of the ton if it comes to it, but at least Helen will not find out.”

A chill was creeping up, and Arabella already felt it. None of this made any sense.

“But is there not a chance that Helen will still find out?”

“There is a chance, of course. But the chances are much slimmer if she is far away. I must protect her. And I have to protect myself. And now you. I did not want to let you into my life because the impact of the truth would be all the harder for you. As long as our relationship existed mainly on paper, the fallout for you should my uncle reveal the truth would be manageable. He would not be impelled by my feelings or the misery it would unleash upon me. We could say that you didn’t know. You would be shielded somewhat.”

“Shielded from what? That a boy made a mistake and caused an accident? Harry, this is a story I have heard over and over again from many people. There is nothing to feel ashamed of, even if it is true, and honestly, I’m not certain that it is. It just seems so bizarre and—” She paused suddenly.

“Arabella?” Harry’s voice seemed very far away.

What had Mrs. Hollingsworth said about the accident? Yes, something about the driver.

“Have you ever spoken to anyone about this?”

He shook his head. “No, I was too mortified. The truth is, not many people know that I caused the accident. Nobody, in fact, but my uncle. Brandon, Mrs. Blomquist, Baxter, and Mabel are aware of Helen’s existence, and they also know that my uncle holds something over me, but none of them know what. I have never told them. You are the first. Arabella, I am telling you this because—well, because you found out about Helen, that is true, but also because I have not been able to talk to anyone about it for years, and now here you are, and I feel like I can trust you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I have wrestled with myself sometimes to tell you the truth, and I felt dreadful about lying to you. The truth is, I have been a wretched wreck for some time because a man should never lie to the woman he loves, no matter the reasons.”

Arabella sat up straight. His words were like a jolt that ran through her. Love? He said that he loved her?

“You love me?” she whispered.

He got up from his chair and closed the distance between them, sitting down next to her on the edge of the chair. “I do. Not at first, as you know, but my feelings for you have only grown these last few weeks, and I can’t deny that I do love you. When you rejected me at the ball, when you would not speak to me, I felt dreadful. I feared for both you and Helen. Arabella, I do hope that my revelation has not made you despise me now.”

“Of course not. I told you it changes nothing. Harry, I love you too. I have loved you for some time, but I thought you would never love me. When I thought that you had a mistress, I was so jealous—so hurt .” She gently cupped his face in her hand, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“I would never keep a mistress, Arabella. Never. Why would I when I have you as a wife? Oh, Arabella, I dread what will happen if my uncle finds out that I have moved her out of England. I hate the repercussions it will have on you.”

Arabella hated to disrupt the moment, for they had finally confessed their love for one another, but there were matters they had to resolve.

“I do not think it was your fault because it sounds impossible, but because of something Mrs. Hollingsworth said. She told me that the coachman should not have been driving that day.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “She said this? When?”

“This morning, when she took Helen to the park. It was there that Emma and I met them. She told me about the accident. She didn’t know about the fanfare part, but she said that the coachman should not have been driving the carriage that day. But she wouldn’t tell me why. I think we should go there and talk to them. There must be something you do not know.”

Harry got up and paced the length of the room, his arms folded behind his back.

“All these years, I have simply believed my uncle because he had ingrained in me since I was a child that it was my fault. I have believed it blindly. I do not want to believe there is hope that I was not the guilty party, but?—”

Arabella got up and joined him, taking his hands in hers. “We need to speak with Mrs. Hollingsworth and find out what she knows. She was Lady Templeton’s lady’s maid at the time, so if anyone had more knowledge, she would be the one. But even if she does not have any other information, know this—I love you. No matter what happens. I love you and I want to be with you, and whatever the fallout, we will withstand it together.”