by Monica Burns
“You’re enthusiasm is heart-warming,” he murmured with a touch of irony.
“There is little about this proposed farce that calls for me to be enthused. I might have laid a terrible bed of roses, my lord, but I’m not taking advantage of someone for having done so,” she retorted. The earl’s expression hardened into an icy façade and he eyed her for a long moment before jerking his head in agreement.
“Very well. We have an accord then.”
“We do, my lord.” Her sharp tone made him nod.
“Good. The first order of business is how you address me. My family will find it odd if you continuously address me so formally, so you will call me Sebastian.”
The command made Helen draw in a sharp breath. Addressing him by his given name was an intimacy she didn’t want. It signified belonging, and it had been so long since she’d felt as though she truly belonged somewhere. But she didn’t belong here. Forgetting that would only bring heartache. She shook her head.
“It seems inappropriate,” she protested quietly.
“The Rockwoods are anything but appropriate when it comes to what we choose to do or not do in society, Helen.” The deliberate note in his voice as he said her name made her swallow hard. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she trembled as the sheer weight of his commanding gaze forced her to respond.
“As you wish…Sebastian.”
Helen’s fingers clutched at the silk of her dress as his name rolled off her tongue so easily. There was something right about the way it sounded in her ears. Her gaze focused on the earl, and a raw tension gripped her body at the look she saw on his face.
Eyes dark as charcoal glinted with an emotion she’d seen before. It was the exact same way her cousin Albert looked at her. But she didn’t feel the revulsion that always churned her stomach whenever her cousin looked at her. Instead, the expression in the earl’s eyes sent a pleasurable shiver sliding down her spine. The maid had been right. This man could melt you with the heat of his gaze.
Heat streaked its way into every inch of her body as she struggled to maintain her composure. Unable to help herself, her gaze drifted to his firm lips. The sudden image of that sensual mouth lacing with hers made her flick out her tongue to wet her dry lips. This man wasn’t just dangerous—he threatened every one of her sensibilities. Desperately, she tried to ignore the way her heart hammered inside her chest.
A muscle in his cheek twitched, and Sebastian closed the distance between them with a deliberate stride. Helen knew she should run as fast and as far away from this man as she could. But she didn’t. She didn’t move a muscle. Long, tapered fingers tipped her chin upward as he studied her for what seemed like an eternity but were mere seconds.
Indecision warred with a darker emotion in his expression. It was clear from his demeanor that he was struggling with an internal dilemma she didn’t understand. Fire suddenly flashed in his eyes, and she knew he was about to kiss her. The realization that she wanted to feel his mouth against hers made her sucked in a sharp breath. She truly was a wanton creature, just as her uncle had said.
A second later, the firmness of Sebastian’s mouth against hers pulled a sigh of pleasure from her. Spice and a hint of tobacco tickled her nose. The sensual maleness of the scent was intoxicating. She’d never realized how wonderful a man could smell. The hardness of his mouth against hers sent heat coiling through her limbs. It spread below her belly until she was warm in places only she had ever touched.
Instinct guided her as she kissed him back. A soft mewl of pleasure echoed in her ears, and she vaguely acknowledged it was coming from her. Hot and cold at the same time, she shuddered against him as emotions she’d never experienced before rushed through her. In a tantalizing stroke, his tongue laced its way across her lips before his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. She gasped, and a second later, he was kissing her deeply.
As his tongue mated with hers, it aroused an urgent need inside her for something she didn’t understand. But she had no doubts it would be pleasurable. Eagerly she tried to imitate his skillful strokes inside her mouth. Her response tugged a groan from him, and the sound filled her with delight. Almost as much as tasting the hot spice of him did.
She pressed her body into his with an urgency she didn’t understand and blindly reached up to touch his face. With an even darker groan, his mouth slid off of hers to slide downward across her throat to the valley between her breasts. Butterflies fluttered relentlessly in her stomach as anticipation for something unknown swept through her. She moaned softly as his tongue heated her skin and slid its way into the small cleft where her breasts met. Pleasure engulfed her at his touch. It made her feel wild and out of control. Suddenly, the pleasure of his kiss vanished as he shoved her away from him in a sharp movement. Dazed, she barely managed to suppress her protest.
“Bloody hell,” he growled as his long stride carried him to one of the library’s large windows.
She lightly touched her swollen lips, her ragged breath cooling her fingertips. With his back to her, she could see his muscles flexed with tension as they stretched the material of his dark blue jacket snugly across his shoulders. He cleared his throat, but kept his back to her. It was as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. She winced at the notion.
“Helen. It’s not my habit to—” he cleared his throat again and fell silent as he stared out the window.
Helen didn’t know how to respond to his clipped words. Guilt charged through her. Somehow, she’d encouraged him, given him the idea that she would welcome his advances. The blame lay at her feet. She’d done nothing to stop him. Uncle Warren was right. She was a wanton. Fire stung Helen’s cheeks at the thought, and the quiet in the room stretch taut around her as Sebastian turned around. The grim look on his face said he was in the midst of a dark inner struggle.
His words had expressed how bitterly he regretted kissing her, but looking at his face, she wondered if his regret was driven by something deeper. By all appearances, it was as if he were in the midst of a deep, dark inner struggle. It made him seem vulnerable, and she was certain he wouldn’t like the idea that he’d let someone see past his austere manner. The sudden need to help ease his troubled soul made her straighten her shoulders before she took two steps toward him.
“It would seem that we both have committed unintentional offenses this morning, my lord. Shall we start over?” she asked with a tentative smile as she stretched out her hand to him.
Although his dark frown didn’t disappear, he begrudgingly nodded his acceptance of her peace offering. Stepping away from the window, he moved forward to take her hand and brushed his mouth over the tips of her fingers. A fraction of a second later, he released his hold on her as though burned by a flame. The silence between them was fraught with tension as he retreated to his desk.
In a movement that relayed he was deep in thought, his long fingers riffled through a stack of papers on top of the mahogany desk. The furniture suited his dark demeanor. His features were strong, almost rugged in form. It left Helen with the sense that, despite his austere countenance, he was someone she could trust. With a slight shake of her head, she frowned at her fanciful thoughts.
“Who are you running from, Helen?” The soft question made her start violently.
Her eyes met his piercing black gaze, and she bit her lip. Could she trust him? She wanted too. There was something about him that invoked a desire to trust him. But then she’d trusted Chantrel, and look where that had led her. No. She could trust no one with her plans to find her grandfather. Uncle Warren had far too many friends in London. If one them recognized her—
“I’m running from no one, my lord.”
“I see,” he murmured in a disbelieving tone. Folding his arms across his chest, he frowned. “How did you meet Chantrel?”
“I answered an advertisement and gave the return address of someone I trusted.”
“So you are running from someone.” His observation was all the more disconcerting because of his gentle tone. A
knot formed in her throat, but she didn’t reply. Sebastian’s gaze narrowed slightly before he nodded his acceptance that she wouldn’t reveal her secret. “Exactly what type of work did Chantrel promise you?”
“I applied for a teaching position. When she replied, she stated that she only had a lady’s maid position available.” Helen paused as she remembered the disappointment she’d felt at the possibility that she would have to lower her expectations. “There was no one…I wrote back saying I would take the position.”
“I take it you didn’t tell her that you’d be bringing your brother.”
“No. I was afraid she’d say no, and I couldn’t leave him.”
“Were things so desperate that you couldn’t leave and go back for him at a later time?”
This time Sebastian’s sympathetic manner made her swallow hard to keep her tears at bay. She looked away from his penetrating gaze as she struggled to maintain her composure. Deep inside something told her to trust him, but her fear outweighed her instincts.
“No. Edward would have suffered if I’d left him behind. My brother is all I have in this world. I could no more abandon him than I could cut off my right hand,” she whispered.
“Then we are alike in our devotion to our siblings.” Sebastian gave an understanding nod as he dropped his arms to clasp his hands behind his back. “How did you arrive at Chantrel’s?”
“She met me at the station.”
“To look you over no doubt,” he murmured with a slight twist of his lips that said he was far from amused. “And your brother. What did she say when she saw him?”
“She was unhappy that I’d brought Edward, but begrudgingly agreed to try and find me a position where the two of us could be together.”
Helen shivered as she remembered the way the brothel owner had looked at her. The woman’s expression had been one of gleeful assessment. No doubt calculating how much she would earn from Helen’s sale. Every one of Helen’s senses had cautioned her about Chantrel, but she’d ignored the warnings. If she’d not been so desperate for employment, Helen would have walked away from the woman.
“When did you realize things were not what you expected?”
“I suppose I should have realized it the moment Chantrel took us through the back door and not the front.” Helen closed her eyes in self-recrimination. “But Edward and I were tired and hungry. We were grateful for the hot stew and bread the woman put in front of us. I never even considered the possibility that the food would be drugged.”
“Did you see any other young women in the brothel who looked out of place? Perhaps just like you?”
Sebastian’s question made her flinch. Most of the women she’d seen at Madame Chantrel’s establishment appeared resigned to their lot in life. It was a role she’d narrowly escaped thanks to the man in front of her. She doubted the girl across the hall from her had been so lucky.
“I think the young woman across from the room I was in hadn’t been in the brothel long. I was quite groggy when Chantrel showed me to my room that first night.” Helen paused as she tried to remember the details of what she’d seen. “The young woman was struggling with one of Chantrel’s men, and managed to escape his grasp. But he caught her again and dragged her back to the room across from mine.”
A tremor slid through her as Helen recalled her gaze locking with the girl’s as the footman shoved the other woman roughly back into her room. The anger on her face had been plainly visible, but there had been a stark look of fear in her large violet eyes.
“I know this must be difficult for you, Helen, but do you remember what this young woman looked like. It’s quite important.”
Despite his soft words, there was a fierce intensity to his tone. Helen’s gazed focused on Sebastian again as she sensed the tension in him. His features revealed nothing, but a tightly coiled spring could not have been more taut than he was at this moment. Why would he be curious about the woman she’d seen?
“She was about my height with dark hair, and her eyes were an extraordinary violet.”
“Damnation,” he exclaimed.
The rough display of frustration seemed uncharacteristic for him. In a sharp movement, he tugged his watch from his waistcoat pocket and flipped it open. He barely glanced at the timepiece before he snapped it closed and jammed it back into his vest.
“I believe it’s time I secured your brother’s freedom,” he said in a crisp tone. “When I return, I shall outline my expectations for your role as my fiancée.”
“You’re going now?” she gasped as relief swelled its way through her body.
“Shortly. I need to make some arrangements, but if things go as planned your brother will be here in time for dinner.”
Sebastian tugged the drawer in the middle of the desk open and withdrew several sheets of stationary. His movements quick and fluid, Sebastian reached for a fountain pen then bent over the desk to write. As she watched him, Helen suddenly realized he’d not mentioned taking her with him. She hurried forward to stand opposite him.
“I’m going with you.”
“Absolutely not,” he snapped as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “It’s not safe.”
“My brother doesn’t know you, and although he wouldn’t admit it, I have no doubt he’s terrified.”
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Helen. It’s too dangerous.” His handsome features stern and harsh, Sebastian slowly straightened upright. “In little more than a week, two women have been butchered in Whitechapel, not too far from Chantrel’s establishment.”
There was a grim note in the earl’s voice, and although she knew nothing about the murders, he obviously believed the danger was real. Neither the murders nor his stern expression was enough to persuade her to abandon her determination to go with him. The man had said he was going now. How dangerous could it be in the middle of the day? She would go whether he liked it or not.
Helen inhaled a quick breath as she tightened her mouth and stared back at him. Whenever she became this stubborn with Uncle Warren, she knew her punishment would be harsh. She’d learned over the years to select her battles wisely. This was one of those times. The earl wouldn’t thrash her for her defiance as Uncle Warren would. At least she didn’t think he would. She gulped back a sliver of fear. None of that mattered. Edward was her only concern at the moment.
“Be that as it may, I will go with you. It’s highly unlikely my brother will trust you. He is quite apt to bolt unless he sees me.”
“And while you’re in my care, I’ll do whatever necessary to keep you safe. If that means forbidding you to accompany me this morning, then so be it.”
“Then I shall remain in your carriage while you retrieve Edward from that wretched woman. But I will go with you.”
Anger darkened his face, but Helen refused to cower from him. Her chin set at a stubborn tilt, she forced herself not to flinch as his furious gaze bored into hers. This was a man who didn’t like to be thwarted, but she had little choice. For all his youthful swaggering, her brother would be frightened.
It was her fault they were in this horrid mess, and she wouldn’t allow Edward to experience fear any longer than necessary. He might even elude Sebastian and runaway. The thought sent a shiver of dread through her. If Edward saw her then he would know he was safe.
There was little to fear in the light of day, and if she remained in his carriage what could go wrong? Oddly enough she knew Sebastian would not let any harm come to her. It was this thought alone that enabled her to remain defiant in spite of his intimidating expression. Even the calculating glint in his eye did little to sway her resolve, and she glared back at him. When he realized his attempt to make her obey him had failed, Sebastian expelled his frustration in a loud whoosh of air.
“As you wish, Helen. But if you so much as step foot out of the carriage, I will extract a measure of punishment the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
“Thank you.” Her quiet gratitude made him release another snort of exasperati
on. His gaze skimmed over her figure in a critical fashion, and his jaw tightened with annoyance.
“Have you eaten this morning? You’re looking rather peaked. Is it the lack of nourishment or are you feeling the strain of defying me.” The condescension in his voice made Helen scowl at him.
“You, my lord, could use some lessons in good manners.”
“So I’ve been told many times.” The barest hint of amusement flickered in his dark gaze before it was snuffed out. “I’ll see to the carriage. If you’re not ready to depart in ten minutes, I shall leave without you.”
Without giving her the opportunity to respond, he quickly folded the note he’d written then skirted the desk and stalked out of the library. The moment the door slammed shut behind him, the tension streamed out her body and left Helen exhausted. Her hand pressed to her chest as if she could slow her racing heartbeat, she closed her eyes.
Despite his fury, Sebastian hadn’t even attempted to hit her. If she’d defied Uncle Warren in such a manner, her back would be on fire from his lashes. And yet, the earl hadn’t hesitated to blackmail her into this ridiculous charade.
“You were a fool to bring Edward with you, Helen Rivenall.”
Her words were a mere whisper against the book-filled library walls and its high ceiling. Would leaving him behind have made any difference other than Uncle Warren taking his anger out on Edward? She looked around the room. Two thousand pounds was a great deal of money to her, but the understated wealth surrounding her made her think that it was a small sum to the earl.
Nonetheless, she was profoundly in the earl’s debt, and even if Edward had not been in need of rescuing, she was certain the earl would still have forced her hand with this ridiculous plan of his. And, her conscience would have left her little choice but to agree. She swallowed the knot of dread rising in her throat.
Occasionally, she would hear tales of the Marlborough Set when she went into the village to buy weekly groceries. The stories had always painted a picture of theater, balls, and a gaiety she’d never experienced in her life. It was for that very reason she knew she wasn’t fit to be the earl’s fiancée. She’d never moved about in society of any form.
