"I must beg you cease your pacing; it cannot be helping your nerves."

"There is nought but confirmation of Mary's good health which will silence my nerves," replied Sir Edmund testily, striding past the armchair where Helena sat as he took yet another fitful turn about the drawing room.

Sir Edmund had been in such a state upon Helena's return to Alverton Hall with George that she could not glean the slightest bit of useful information from him regarding Mary's whereabouts or state of wellbeing. Margaret had been of little more help, far too overwhelmed by the relief of having her son returned. Therefore, Helena had turned to Joseph, who informed her that Mary was being seen to upstairs by a doctor - only after expressing his wish for Helena to alert him if she ever wished to go charging after dangerous child-snatchers in future.

"Not that any of this would have happened if Sir Edmund had not stormed off in a fit of rage," Joseph had added under his breath.

Helena shook her head in exasperation. She could not find it in herself to blame Sir Edmund for Mary's accident; she believed Mr Roach would have taken George whether Sir Edmund had remained at Alverton Hall or not. Besides, poor Sir Edmund was clearly blaming himself for Mary's injury quite enough; there was no need to inflict further pain and misery upon him.

Joseph seemed to disagree. From the moment they had all retired to the drawing room to await further news of Mary, he had been shooting irritated looks at Sir Edmund each time the baronet's heavy footfall passed by Joseph's seat. Deep down, Helena knew Joseph was vexed with himself, feeling he should have been there to protect the women and George - which only served to infuriate Helena, for she could not imagine how either Sir Edmund or Joseph could have made a better attempt at rescuing the child than she and Mary had.

Growing tired of the foolish, male-blooded tension filling the room, Helena rose to her feet.

"I am going to visit my father," she announced, crossing the room with a rustle of skirts. "Would you be so kind as to alert me the very moment there is news?"

With something resembling a nod of assent from Joseph, and a dazed look from Sir Edmund, Helena sighed and took her leave.

Upon reaching the door to her father's chambers, Helena hesitated the briefest of moments, steadying her breathing before knocking firmly three times. This was to be a difficult conversation, but it was one she knew must take place.

"Yes?" came her father's voice, hoarse from sleep.

"It is Helena," she called. "I did not mean to disturb you; I can return at a later hour if you wish."

"No, no - do come in," was her father's immediate reply.

Bundled up beneath the covers in his enormous bed, Lord Alverton seemed almost as if he had shrunk during Helena's time away. Only now, after spending some time apart, could Helena truly appreciate quite how frail he had become. His once healthy body had become thin and limp; a shadow of strong, powerful man he had once been.

This could not have been the work of a few months. No, her father's decline had been occurring over a great many years - likely since Lady Alverton passed away - and although Helena had thought herself to be acknowledging it all this time, she now realised that she had been denying the full truth, unable to bear what had become of the father she so dearly loved.

"Oh, Papa!"

Moving instinctively across the room as if riding a wave of emotion, Helena suddenly found herself in her father's arms, weeping uncontrollably. To be close to him; to be comforted by him; these were the things Helena had unconsciously desired the most since her mother's death.

And by the fierceness of Lord Alverton's embrace, it was clear that he yearned for this closeness too. Each had been craving the other's support as they struggled with their grief, but neither had been willing to acknowledge it. For Helena, the grief had been stuffed away in favour of organising every aspect of her life; for Lord Alverton in attempting to secure a match for his daughter. In their own way, each had neglected to work through their emotions, their relationship growing ever more distant and disconnected.

Not any longer, vowed Helena, pulling back from her embrace to look her poor, frail father directly in the eye. Over the past few months she had come far too close to knowing what it was like to lose someone dear - even now, Mary lay fighting for her life within these very walls - and so she resolved to make the most of every single moment with those people who mattered to her.

"I am sorry, Papa," sighed Helena, clutching Lord Alverton's skeletal hand within her own.

Lord Alverton's brow furrowed - and to her great shock, Helena spotted tears pooling in her father's eyes.

"There is no need to be sorry, my dear," he replied softly, his gruff voice rather mellower than Helena was accustomed to.

"I have not been here for you of late; not for a long time, in fact," admitted Helena. "I have been entirely consumed by my own affairs, hardly pausing to consider how you were faring. I thought myself to be caring for you; yet I was simply stepping through the motions without ever truly offering support."

"I am equally as guilty, my dear - for as your father, it was my duty to offer my support to you," insisted Lord Alverton. "You were little more than a child when we lost your mother, yet I allowed you to take on far too much responsibility in running the household, depriving you of your remaining carefree years before womanhood."

Helena firmly shook her head.

"You must never think that I took on Mama's responsibilities unwillingly," she told him, but Lord Alverton heaved a heavy sigh.

"That may be so," he said, "but it should never have been your responsibility to begin with; I should have seen to that."

It is no use, thought Helena helplessly. If they continued in such a manner; each insisting on taking the full extent of the blame, they would simply end up talking themselves hoarse without hope of any resolution.

"I think it is perhaps wisest for us to own that we have each been responsible for some poor decisions and uncaring behaviours," suggested Helena.

"Though neither of us are entirely blameless, we both acknowledge our mistakes - and I truly believe them to be honest mistakes, in particular when coming to terms with such a harrowing event as the loss of my dear Mama. Would it not be far better to us to treat past actions as such, and focus our attentions on how best we might ensure similar mistakes are not made again in future?"

Lord Alverton's face glowed with pride as he listened attentively to his daughter's speech.

"What a fine, sensible young woman you have become," he said warmly. "I am so proud of you, dearest Helena, to witness the practical manner in which you face life's difficulties. It is plain to see that you are now ready to venture out into the world and begin your own life; I therefore feel it best that I cease my attempts to secure you a match and allow you to make the choice yourself."

Helena's breath caught in her throat. Searching her father's face for some hint that he was indeed speaking seriously, she found nothing but an earnest glint in his eyes, though her heart told her it could not be true.

"The thing is, Papa," began Helena hesitantly, cursing herself for her cowardice in failing to meet his gaze. Instead she spoke down to his frail hand, still encased firmly within her own.

"The thing is - that is to say - there is no longer, in fact, any need for me to seek out a husband."

Helena felt her father stiffen, but still lacked the courage to meet his gaze.

"Why should this be the case?" he asked sharply. "Do you not intend to marry?"

Cringing at the displeasure and fear in her father's tone, Helena forced herself to continue.

"Quite the opposite," she replied. "It is very much my intention to marry. In fact, I envision my marriage to be a fairly imminent event."

She was doing this all wrong! Even without looking up, she could tell that Lord Alverton's fearful gaze had travelled downwards, towards her stomach. This would not do at all - Helena owed her father the simple truth.

"I am betrothed," she announced finally, the words escaping her lips so rapidly that Helena wondered if they had been decipherable.

Upon meeting her father's stricken gaze, however, it became clear that Lord Alverton had firmly grasped their meaning.

"When?" he choked out, colour draining from his face.

"During my time in London," replied Helena meekly, heart sinking. This was entirely the reaction she had feared; entirely the reason she had never spoken of her love for Joseph previously.

The hurt and betrayal upon her dear Papa's face made Helena's insides positively writhe with guilt. She should have written; should have informed him sooner...

Should have, should have, should have...

"When am I to meet him?" enquired Lord Alverton.

"You have already met him," said Helena. "You were with him mere hours ago."

Helena had hoped for this to soothe her father's nerves; but in fact, her words had quite the opposite effect. Clutching her wrist so tightly it began to lose all feeling, Lord Alverton's eyes widened in utter terror, rolling in his head in a frightening way.

"No!" he moaned desperately, voice raspy. "Good God, not him! Oh please, anyone but him!"

A sizeable lump formed in Helena's throat as she witnessed her father's display. She had not expected him to be overjoyed at the prospect of her marrying a second son; but this, really, was too much! Joseph was noble by nature, if not by name, and that was all that mattered to Helena.

"Oh, my poor, sweet, Helena," cried Lord Alverton in horror. "Did he succeed in having his wicked way with you as well? Oh, I cannot bear to think of it!"

This exclamation caused Helena to start in surprise. Wicked way, indeed! There was none more wicked in all of Alverton than Mr Joseph Godwin - what possible reason could her father have to abuse him so abominably?

And then, in one moment of horror, Helena understood.

"Oh, Papa!" she gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth. "You were speaking of Mr Roach! Oh, how sorry I am for allowing you to entertain so vile a notion! Goodness, I should rather die than become the wife of that man - it was of Mr Godwin that I spoke! It is to him I am betrothed."

Lord Alverton reached for his handkerchief with a trembling hand; mopping his clammy brow as he processed this new turn of events. Helena waited with bated breath for his response - now the truth was certainly out, and Lord Alverton could give his honest verdict on the matter.

"Well," began Lord Alverton eventually, "I cannot say that I am much surprised."

Helena frowned.

"You are not?"

"Not at all, my dear - it was clear as you both neared adulthood that there was a mutual attraction between you which surpassed that of mere friendship. I had been expecting a visit from Joseph to request my permission for your hand in marriage - but then he took off to travel Europe last Spring, and so I began to wonder if perhaps it had been but a fleeting romance."

Helena could not quite believe her ears. To think all this time that her love for Joseph had been such a great secret, yet her father had guessed all along!

Yet though Lord Alverton had confessed awareness of their love, he had not yet stated whether he approved of the idea...

"Would you have been - displeased - at the thought of Joseph wishing to propose?" asked Helena hesitantly.

Lord Alverton paused, considering this.

"Had he asked a year ago, I believe I should have been displeased," admitted Lord Alverton. "He is a second son, after all, which rather limits his prospects."

Helena's face fell.

"Yet now, I believe I have come to view the matter with changed spirits," continued her father.

"I have thought a great deal of late about my marriage to your mother; how lucky we were to have found love. Life is too short, I have come to realise, to be spent alongside someone we merely tolerate. You deserve to find love, my dear Helena - and if Joseph Godwin claims to love you, of which I have no doubt that he does, then you may have my blessing."

"Oh, Papa!"

Words failed Helena; she was far too overcome with emotion to do anything other than fling herself once again into his arms. It was impossible to express with words just how happy his speech had made her, so her actions would have to speak for her.

Knowing that she would have her dearest friend and only love beside her as long as they both lived, Helena felt able to tackle whatever life should choose to send their way. Lord Alverton had granted Helena her heart's one true desire, overcoming his prejudices for the sake of her happiness - which for Helena was the best gift she could ever have asked for.

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A/N: There's only three chapters left to go now, including an epilogue! *sob*

I want to post them all before I go on holiday (two weeks to go, can't wait!), so I've decided to do two updates a week from now until the end :)

Lord Alverton has finally given Helena his blessing to marry Joseph! He's a good guy really, he just needed some time to come round to the idea of Helena choosing her own husband. Now the only question that remains to be answered is what will happen to Mary. Will she wake up? If she does, will she be the same Mary she always was? Let me know what you think!