The Duelist's Seduction (8 page)

Helen stifled an embarrassed giggle and buried her face in his chest as though to hide herself from the world. Gareth found himself laughing, too. It was a loud, rich laugh, one he hadn’t made in years. What was she doing to him? In a mere matter of a day, she had turned his world upside down. She was open and honest about herself and her life. And brave. He couldn’t forget that, either, the way she’d risked her life to save her brother’s knowing she would die. What woman of his acquaintance would have dared to risk her life? None that he knew. Helen was different. She was real and beautiful and so full of life. Each time he looked at her, something inside him seemed to shake off a century’s worth of dust and awaken. Being around her made him feel alive.

“Let’s get the horses ready. We should get a ride in while the day is young.” Gareth reluctantly pried her away from his chest and set about saddling the horses.

They rode at a nice canter for nearly an hour, over the meadow, down the hill, and through the neighboring lands. Gareth chuckled as Helen rode her mare through a flock of panicked sheep. They both nearly fell out of their saddles with laughter as they watched the wooly creatures bolt in all directions to avoid being trampled by her horse. The sheep gathered rebelliously into a flock several yards away, bleating melodramatically at having been attacked.

“Heavens! That was quite a ride,” Helen said as she watched the sheep shifting restlessly as her horse stomped and huffed.

“I daresay, the farmer, Mr. Pennysworth, won’t be pleased to find we’ve been scaring his beasts. Come, let’s away, Helen,” He chuckled and lightly tugged the reins of his horse, guiding it to turn around.

Gareth watched Helen the entire time they were out riding. He could not keep his eyes off the halo of her golden hair or the mischievous grin as she drove towards the sheep. Her little laugh was music to him, music he’d been missing for years.

Sing my little thrush, please sing to me
. She was beautiful, she was perfect, and he would have to let her go. That brother of hers would eventually show up, and Gareth would have to deal with him when the time came. Damned if he knew what to do with Martin Banks. The fool might still insist on the duel, now over Helen’s honor. What a mess he was in. His eyes strayed to Helen, and her easy smile made all of the problems with his choice to have her fade. She was worth the trouble. He knew he could not keep her for long. Ambrose’s words came back to him. He was ruining her for her brother’s debts. Debts she shouldn’t have to pay, and he’d destroyed all chances of her making a good match. On the field after the duel that hadn’t mattered to him, in fact he’d relished the thought of hurting Banks by saddling him with a sister who would never make a match. But now…now he saw he was only hurting Helen, a brave, innocent woman who didn’t deserve any of this. Yet there was no way to undo the damage he’d done.

Marriage was out of the question. He had nothing to offer her besides his name and his body, and he knew only too well that a woman like Helen would need his heart to survive a marriage. For him, it was seduction, plain and simple. He had no right to anything else. He’d lost his right to love a long time ago. God would not give him a second chance, not after blessing him with Clarissa. That sort of love, he was sure, came only once. He had his turn and lost. Helen was nothing more than a cruel reminder of what he could never have.

CHAPTER THREE

Helen spent the remainder of the day exploring the house, reading in the expansive library, and being spoiled by the numerous cooks in the kitchen, who were more than delighted to let her taste pies, pastries, and other dishes they were preparing. Gareth had to leave on a business related matter but had assured her he would return in time for dinner. Helen found the house felt empty with his departure at first, but Mary soon distracted her with activities. She was allowed to play freely on the pianoforte in the music room, she was encouraged to explore the gardens, and she was positively forced to try on gown after gown once they arrived late in the afternoon from Bath. About halfway through the day, Helen was sure this was an elaborate and wonderful dream, and that eventually, she would wake to find herself back in Bath, ever watchful of her brother and their meager finances.

Once Mary had finished fitting all of the new gowns, she left Helen to her own devices. The day was still clear and fine and the warm sun was setting in the western sky as Helen entered the gardens once more. She found a stout tree near the garden wall and decided to climb it to better see the sunset. Climbing was something more suited for a young child, not a woman of one and twenty, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Here, she was free to do as she wished, to eat, to play, to laugh, even to climb. In this private world, she had been swept away by the sense of timelessness. She could do whatever she wanted, and at the moment, she planned to climb a tree to get a better glimpse of the reddening skies beyond the gardens.

Returning to her chamber, she quickly donned her brother’s breeches and shirt. It was the best attire for climbing. Her new white muslin gown would have been completely ruined. Helen shared her brother’s athletic build and found it easy to grasp the lowest branches and hoist herself up. The bark was rough beneath her palms, but she ignored the sting of the minor scrapes on her sensitive skin. By the time she stopped ascending, she had a fair view of the sunset over the garden wall.

The sun was now a crimson apple hanging low on the horizon as though waiting to be plucked. Thick beams of gold light tickled the waving grasses of the meadow, deepening the emerald colors. It was that one hour of the day so often missed during the bustle of activity, when the world seemed frozen in that golden span of time. A hush descended over the land, bird chatter was quieter, and no breezes whipped the branches or grass. There was only a soft silence, like when a mother puts her babe to sleep in the late afternoon. The air was filled with the promise of what night might bring, yet the flurry of activity for the evening had not begun. It was a sacred time.

“How the devil did you get up there?” Gareth’s voice boomed.

Helen jerked, nearly falling from the branch she balanced on. She glanced down, seeing him at the base of the tree, looking up at her. Ten feet separated her from Gareth and the ground. It was no great distance, really.

“I climbed, of course.” She laughed at his look of surprise, her heart sliding down from her throat and back into her chest as she steadied herself again. “How did you find me?”

His brows drew down into a slight frown. One of the gardeners saw you come out here in your brother’s clothes. He was worried you were planning to leave, so he kept track of where you went.

This time, it was she who frowned. “You’ve had your servants watching me?”

“Well…” He glanced away, guilty. “Not really. I merely told them you were not to leave the grounds without me. It was more the fact that you were walking around in breeches that got the man’s attention, rather than my order for him to keep an eye on you,” Gareth answered.

“Oh,” she exhaled. It did make sense. She’d jumped to conclusions about him and had been wrong—well, not entirely—but still wrong enough to feel the uncomfortable weight of her own guilt at making such suppositions.

“Shall I call the head gardener for his ladder?”

She sighed. “No, I can get down. I just wanted to see the sunset.” Her eyes once more returned to the peach colored skies aflame around the setting sun. She could have stayed there forever, watching the slowly changing colors, forgetting every worry that hung heavy on her soul.

The tree gave a little shake and branches whispered around her. She glanced back down to see Gareth climbing up toward her. He balanced himself at the fork of the large branch she was sitting on and the base of the tree. He tested the branch to see if it would hold his weight. There was a single moment, when he raised his eyes to her face, that she saw something in his expression that gave her a little shiver. Desire and contentment tinged with desperation as he gazed upon her, as though she were a great prize held high above his reach. No one had
ever
looked at her that way. She knew enough women who would have used that look to their advantage, but her first instinct was to go to him, to kiss away the sorrow in his eyes and the tightness of his mouth. Even though he’d ruined her, she couldn’t resist him.

When he was satisfied the tree would hold him, he opened his arms to her. Without thinking, Helen slid over to nestle herself back against him as they watched the sunset together.

“How was your day?” His warm breath stirred the curls of hair dangling against her neck.

“Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. It has been so long since…” She caught herself.

“So long since what?” His lips pressed lightly against her cheek. She shut her eyes, wishing she could tell him, but shame kept her quiet.

“Tell me, Helen.” Her name on his lips weakened her resolve to remain silent.

Silence fell between them as she hesitated. He didn’t press her to speak. He simply held onto her, as though they had countless hours to simply exist together in the same sphere, a single word unneeded. It was this sense of comfort he created that made her able to trust him with the vulnerable truth of her situation.

“It has been so long since I had a day where I could do as I wished, not have to save my food so Martin could have more, not have to mend yet another tear in my only shawl, not have to fear the whispers and societal slights against me and my brother at the assembly rooms. A day where I could be myself.” She felt the telltale burn of a blush, but she couldn’t stop it.

Gareth, whose hand had been rubbing up and down her back, stilled the movement. For a breathless moment, she feared he’d move away.

“How long has your brother been losing money at the tables?”

“For nearly three months. He only waited a month after our father died before he started frequenting the gambling hells. We started out with so little. He claimed he could win enough to keep us well situated in Bath. We had only just moved here a few weeks after Papa died. We took a pair of small rooms with a low rent, but Martin said we needed more. That’s when he began haunting the card tables.”

Gareth’s hands rubbed her hips, the touch soothing, rather than erotic. “I take it he never listened to you when you asked him to stop.”

“No. The first few times he returned with his pockets empty, I fought with him. Our rows were terrible, and we said unforgivable things to each other. After that, he started slipping out after I retired to bed each night. I knew what he was up to, of course. In the mornings, his eyes were red and his clothes rumpled as though he’d slept in them. It was so obvious, but there was little I could do to stop him.” Helen’s voice broke as raw, painful emotions ripped through her.

Gareth said nothing and his silence worried her. Would he cast her out? Now that he knew the truth? He caught her chin, turning her face towards his. His eyes were warm and compassionate as he breathed two words.

“My darling…” He kissed her softly, sweetly. “I’m so sorry.”

It was just the sort of kiss she had thought would be her first, one full of emotion where heat was secondary. Yet there was passion behind the tenderness. She could feel it in the depth of his lips and the warmth of his arm that encircled his waist.

Gareth finally broke the kiss, but he rested his forehead against hers, keeping her close as though he didn’t desire to separate himself from her. “We should get down. Mary will be angry if we are late for dinner.”

He climbed down first and held out his arms for her to jump. The invitation to give herself to him was beyond compelling. She resisted, climbing down the last few branches on her own until she saw the hurt in his eyes. Hesitating, she studied his face. His expression was so different than before. Pleading glimmered in his eyes, and she let herself surrender to him, allowing him to help her down the last branch to the ground.

Mary kidnapped Helen the moment they were both inside.

“Look at the state of the pair of you! Covered in leaves and heaven knows what else,” she chastised, but Helen thought she saw a glimmer of a smile on Mary’s lips.

“We’ve been climbing trees.” Gareth flashed Helen a conspiratorial grin.

“I can
see
that, sir.” Mary retorted. She plucked Helen’s arm off his and took her to her bedchamber, muttering under her breath about trees “being a gardener’s concern”. Helen bit her tongue to stop from laughing.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up and into a proper evening gown.”

Mary helped her wash up and change. Helen wore a fine burgundy evening gown with short sleeves. It had a very low neckline, which Helen kept tugging up until Mary caught her.

“Let the gown be, my dear. You have a fine figure, show it to your advantage.”

“But it’s dreadfully low,” Helen whispered in a scandalized tone.

Mary raised a wicked eyebrow.

“Yes it is.”

Helen’s cheeks heated but she realized it wouldn’t matter. At this rate, she’d likely not be wearing the gown past dessert. She hadn’t forgotten the incident in the meadow earlier that day and the promise that had lingered in Gareth’s eyes. Tonight he would seduce her, fully and completely. It was inevitable and she saw little point in fighting it, especially when she knew she wanted it just as badly as he did. She was quickly becoming addicted to the ecstasy of his touch.