Her body felt engulfed in flames. She couldn’t admit she thought he was the culprit without grievously insulting him or angering him to the point of endangering Fergus and herself.
Fergus closed the distance between her and him. “Her ladyship thought you might know if Miss Kendrick has enemies who would want to do her harm. Her sisters’ welfare has always been first in milady’s thoughts.”
Lord St. Ambrose’s glower was replaced with a look of confusion. “Enemies?” He scratched his head. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her, and if she did have enemies, they would not know about your family connection.”
That was most likely true. Lavinia would understand the need for discretion.
The marquess gestured toward her. “The threat seems directed at you, Lady Prestwick. Have you made enemies since you’ve been in Town?”
Had she? She couldn’t think of anyone, aside from possibly Lady Lovelace, but the widow wouldn’t know about her sister. She shook her head.
“Then it seems the aim is to make money rather than cause any real harm.” He sauntered toward a high round table that held a crystal decanter. He lifted it in a salute. “Do you mind?”
When she indicated he should indulge if he wished, he poured a glass.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked. “I will ring for tea.”
“That isn’t necessary, sir.”
He tugged the bellpull anyway. “But it is, madam. I owe you an apology, and I would be remiss if I didn’t try to mend fences. Lavinia would be ashamed if she knew how I have treated you.” His eyebrows lifted as if questioning if she would tell Lavinia.
“She will not hear of our exchange, my lord. I would prefer not to worry her unnecessarily.”
His welcoming smile returned. “Thank you. I only hope you can understand my churlish behavior once I explain. Please, have a seat.”
Helena considered declining. She didn’t want to stay much longer, but she followed his suggestion and chose one of the chocolate leather chairs. He took the other. Fergus remained standing behind her chair.
“Your younger sister, Cora, has requested money from Lavinia on several occasions,” St. Ambrose said. “The first time Lavinia sold a diamond broach I had given her for the money. I made her promise to never sell her belongings again. What I give to Lavinia is meant for her to enjoy, and she deserves it.”
Helena’s heart softened toward him.
“The second, Lavinia asked me for the money. I gave it to her, of course. She wanted to help her sister, and I had the means. Recently, Cora came to her again requesting money. She won’t say what it is for, other than her children need it. She is always quick to remind Lavinia that her husband provided for Pearl and Gracie many years.” He sneered. “Cora conveniently forgets Lavinia’s sacrifice, and that Mr. White was paid to become Pearl and Gracie’s guardian.”
Tightness traveled Helena’s jaw. She remembered Cora as a headstrong, emotional child, but she didn’t recall her being manipulative or cruel. Helena was incensed and more than a little disappointed in Cora’s treatment of Lavinia.
“Did Lavinia give her the money she requested?”
St. Ambrose shook his head. “I refused. It is high time the girl learns to live within her husband’s means. It wouldn’t hurt for her husband to refuse her either. From everything Lavinia has said, Cora is pampered and spoiled.”
Helena didn’t care for the marquess’s criticism of her sister, but she held her tongue. A footman responded to St. Ambrose’s summons.
“Have the cook prepare refreshments for my guest.”
She stood. “Please, do not trouble your cook. I really must go.”
St. Ambrose rose from his chair and dismissed the footman. “Perhaps another time.”
As she reached the door, the marquess said, “Lady Prestwick, I hope you will forgive me for assuming the worst about your visit. I only meant to protect Lavinia.”
She turned, her hand still on the ornate handle. “There is nothing to forgive. Misunderstandings happen.”
“How much did the letter demand? One hundred and thirty pounds?”