In Bed with a Rogue (27 page)

She shook her head, her exquisite eyes still bright with tears. “No, you did splendidly. It was the best declaration of love I’ve ever had. That it is my first doesn’t lessen its value.”

Sebastian had never blushed a day in his life, but heat crept into his face. “It is my first time, too.”

Her arms slid around his neck and a shy smile spread across her lips. “An innocent.”

“Hardly.” His mouth touched hers as a bang sounded at the door. Helena jumped.

“Lass, are you in there?”

Bloody
Scot.

Helena scooted from the table. “I-I’m coming.”

“Liar,” he said low enough for her ears only.

She laughed softly, patting her hair then sweeping her hands over her skirts as she moved toward the door. Her hand paused on the handle and she turned back to him. Her smile faded. “Sebastian, I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to you again. I want to tell you I love you too, but I cannot.”

Cold seeped into his churning gut. If she didn’t love him in return, he’d made a fool of himself again. Just like with Gabrielle. And even though no one would know outside of Helena and him, he knew. Steeling for her answer, he asked, “Why can’t you say you love me?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “If I say it, I can’t retract the words. They will be forever between us, binding me to you even when I leave. I fear my heart would shatter if I let myself love you.”

Hope swelled within him and drove him to go to her. He took her free hand. “I may know a way we can be together.”

“Sebastian, come with me to Scotland. We can make a life there, after Eve is settled in marriage. Your mother could come with us.”

He sighed. If only the solution were that easy, but he couldn’t leave. His father’s sacrifice couldn’t be for naught. Sebastian was a baron and his duty was to his King and country. “Helena, I have—”

A louder bang shook the door. “Lass, is therea problem?”

“Only if you call a soon-to-be-dead Scot a problem,” Sebastian grumbled.

Helena’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “No killing. I made him promise, and I’m holding you to the same standard.”

Twenty-three

Helena and Sebastian were alone in the carriage since her maid had begged to ride in the open air after her bout of nausea. Ismay had never tolerated bumpy carriage rides very well, and this leg of the journey qualified as bumpy in more ways than one.

As the carriage shimmied and lurched over the lane, Helena braced herself against the wall and tried to think of something to say to Sebastian. His profession of love had knocked her off balance. It changed everything, and nothing.

The thought of leaving him carved a hole in her heart, an ache similar to the one she’d experienced those first months at Aldmist Fell knowing her family was out of her reach. Only this ache was worse somehow.

She loved him. Whether she held her tongue or shouted it to the world, the truth wouldn’t change. She loved him and she was going to lose him.

He arched a brow. “Do you want to talk about why you’re abusing your bottom lip?”

What?
Releasing her lip, she ran her tongue over it to soothe it. She hadn’t realized she was biting it. “No.”

The carriage wheel hit a deep hole and jolted her from the bench. She released a sharp cry when her bum smacked the edge of the bench and she slid to the floor.

“For the love of God.” Sebastian grabbed above her elbows and tugged her toward the seat beside him. His arm went around her, holding her in place as the carriage dipped again. His thigh and hip pressed against hers, interfering with her heart rate. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t slow her shallow breaths.

His hand slid to her nape. “Hold tight and you won’t be hurt.”

She closed her eyes as his fingers played with the loose hairs falling on her neck, intensely aware of the tingles raining down her body. Longing surged through her blood. She wanted to hold tight to him. To never let him go.

His free hand caressed her jaw. “Everything is going to be all right, Helena. I promise.”

How could he promise something out of his control? Blind optimism wouldn’t help anyone. “It’s not going to be—”

He tipped her chin and kissed her, holding her securely until her nerves began to calm. His mouth coaxed her to surrender and she wanted to fight—knew she
should
fight giving in to her desires—but she sagged against him. His warmth surrounded her and she sighed. Why did everything feel right with him when she knew it wasn’t? She had seen the refusal in his expression. He wouldn’t come to Scotland with her.

He eased back and his dark eyes captured her. She couldn’t look away. “Please…” A muscle in his jaw bulged, revealing the effort it took to force out his next words. “Please, say you will reconsider your plans. Stay with me.”

An undercurrent of hurt flowed beneath those simple words. No matter what choice she made, someone would suffer. She hated bearing the weight of others’ happiness on her shoulders. “If I don’t take Gracie and Pearl to Scotland, what chance do they have? You know as well as I they cannot live with me in London, and leaving Gracie with Lavinia is out of the question. Lavinia and I agree it’s not the best place for her. I cannot abandon my sisters again.”

“You did not abandon them. Don’t allow guilt to guide your decisions. I’ve traveled that road and it leads to no place pleasant.”

She cocked her head to the side, not understanding.

“Gabrielle,” he said. “I offered marriage to a woman I didn’t love, because I thought it would help Eve. I knew Gabrielle didn’t want to marry me, but I was driven to do right by my sister and I ignored what I knew was morally right. I should have released Gabrielle from the betrothal. Instead, I made matters worse for everyone.”

“You aren’t to blame for trying to make a good marriage match.”

“If you know two people love each other and come between them, you are responsible for everyone’s misery.”

She shook her head. “No, and I don’t see how this is relevant to our situation.”

“Because you are coming between
us
, or rather you are letting guilt get in our way.”

How could she argue? Guilt gnawed at her like a hound with a bone, but wasn’t he coming between them too? “You could live at Aldmist Fell.”

“I am needed here.” Irritation flared in his eyes. “My land is in England, and my duties require me to be accessible. There is more involved than making an appearance when the House of Lords is in session. I am cosponsoring an act to provide housing for soldiers injured in the war and—”

She held up a hand. “I am sorry. I was not thinking properly.”

His bluster died away, and he deflated on a long exhale. “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to be condescending. Fulfilling my role is important to me, and I tend to become dogmatic about it.”

Dogmatic, fiery, incredibly handsome when passion lit his eyes. If he were not opposing her, she would enjoy this side of him more.

He reached for her hand. There was a twinge of sadness to his smile. “I need you to understand why it is important.”

An ache throbbed in her chest. She couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting. She nodded to show she was listening.

“I wasn’t born with noble blood. My grandfather was only a doctor, but he was a successful one.”

Helena tried to hide her surprise, but her eyes widened. His origins were not so different from hers.

“Grandfather purchased a captain’s commission for my father in the cavalry when he was seventeen and charged him with distinguishing himself. Father always did as he was told and became quite the soldier, by all accounts. I was a young boy when he was deployed to Ireland to suppress the rebellions. When he returned, the King created the barony for Father as reward for his service.” Sebastian’s lips set in a grim line. “Mother said he was never the same after he returned from war. He had nightmares and sometimes thought he was back in New Ross. He couldn’t predict the spells, and after he had one in the House of Lords, he couldn’t make himself return. My father never finished the work most important to him, so I have taken up his cause.”

Suddenly, she felt foolish for asking him to come to Scotland. His place was here, but where did that leave them?

He shifted toward her, a sense of urgency in his tone. “My father sacrificed his sanity for us—Eve, Mother, me. I cannot let it be for naught. I have a duty to him that I cannot ignore.”

They sat in silence. She didn’t know what to say. Understanding didn’t make their situation easier. She squeezed his hand. “In the dining room, you said there might be a way for everyone to be happy. Is there really a chance?”

“There is always a chance, Helena.”

She took a moment to roll the word around in her head. A chance implied risk. Possibly failure. And consequences if they failed. Chance had been her enemy all her life. It had taken her home, her freedom. And yet, no matter how small the chance of success, it became a sliver of hope embedded in her heart.

“How?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

His easy smile appeared. “You’re the daughter of a wealthy Irish gentleman, my dear.”

“You know that is a lie. My mother was Irish, but we were far from wealthy and we had no land in Ireland.”

“I know,” he said. “Well, I didn’t know about your mother, but I know Prestwick created a different past for you. Tell me the story and don’t leave out any details.”

This was an odd conversation to have now, but Helena complied. “When we married, my husband told everyone I was the daughter of a gentleman, a reclusive landowner in Northern Ireland. Only the servants knew I wasn’t, but they valued their positions and told no one the truth.”

“Prestwick was quite the gambler, it seems.”

Helena had never thought of her husband as a gambler, but it rang with truth when Sebastian said it. Was Wickie the same as her weak-minded father? She swallowed against a bitter taste rising in the back of her throat. “He said no one would question the story, and he was correct. None of the wedding guests seemed interested in my Irish roots.”

Sebastian’s hand rested on her leg, possessive and yet comfortable. “How did your husband explain the fact you don’t sound Irish? Not even a little.”

“I had an English governess, of course. Wickie told everyone I was educated at my father’s estate.” She rolled her eyes. “While I can guarantee my education while living with my father was
educational
, it didn’t teach me to be a lady. Wickie saw to that once we reached Aldmist Fell. He hired a young woman to turn me into a lady and kept me hidden until we married.”

“Why take a girl from near poverty and groom her to become a wife? It doesn’t make sense when a man in his position would have no trouble finding a suitable mate.”

“Goodwill?”

Sebastian frowned, apparently not convinced of Wickie’s altruistic nature. “How old were you?”

“Nineteen. For three and a half years, I was his ward, although I rarely saw him. He was active on his land and traveled often. Then one day he summoned me to his study and said it was time for me to take his name.”

“Did you
want
to marry him?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “He offered security and respectability. I would have been foolish to decline his offer. It was very generous, considering he could have turned me out. I would have been grateful for a position with his staff.”

And relieved he hadn’t made her his mistress instead.

“Was there any mention of siblings in Ireland?” Sebastian asked.

“I don’t think Wickie ever thought about creating a family history for me beyond my father. I would have told anyone who asked that I have four sisters, but no one ever did.”

“Prestwick’s inattention to detail could work to our advantage then.”

Tightness formed between her brows, and he gently smoothed it away with his knuckle. His eyes twinkled. “How does this sound? Before you left Scotland, you received a letter from your Great-Aunt Mae in Ireland. She has been caring for Gracie and Pearl ever since your parents passed away, may they rest in peace. And soon she will be saying a tearful good-bye as your sisters depart for Dublin to catch a ship bound for England.”

It sounded rather nice, honestly. And promising. “I have an Aunt Mae now?”

“Yes, and an Uncle Patrick. You and your siblings spent every Christmas at your uncle’s estate. Cook made the most delicious plum puddings, and you used to sneak into the kitchen to watch her prepare them. She allowed you to lick the spoon afterwards. Don’t you remember?”

She laughed and sank against the seatback. “Perhaps not as well as you, but please, refresh my memory. What else did we do at Uncle Patrick’s?”

“You went riding—”

Horses?
Her eyes almost popped out of her head.

“You don’t ride?”

She shook her head.

Sebastian’s lips turned down. “That will never do. I’ll teach you to ride.” He slanted his head. “I suppose Gracie and Pearl will require lessons too.”

“I suppose they will. Our father—the
gentleman
—was dreadfully afraid of horses. He didn’t keep a stable.”

“A gentleman who doesn’t keep a stable? I’ve never heard of such a thing. How did he get from place to place?”

“He never left home. You must remember he was a recluse.” She wiggled on the seat to face him, warming to the idea of storytelling. “His fear of horses stemmed from his childhood, from the time a runaway team nearly ran him over on a bridge and he tumbled into the creek. He never taught us to swim either.”

Sebastian chuckled. “What a colorful make-believe family you have, my dear.”

“And those are just the stories fit to tell,” she said, batting her lashes playfully. “So Aunt Mae has been caring for Gracie and Pearl and now…”

“And now her gout is acting up. She can barely walk, much less keep pace with a ten-year-old girl. In her letter, she asked if your sisters could come live with you. You enthusiastically agreed and instructed her to book passage to London. It will break her heart to see Gracie and Pearl go, but she knows they will be in good hands with her trusted maid, Edith.”