The thought made her sad. She swiped at the annoying tears prickling her lids. To want him all to herself was foolish in the extreme. But she did.
She saw a future filled with heartbreak.
“Are you all right?” He pulled her closer and tucked her head onto his chest. He was warm and hard against her. His heart beat beneath her cheek.
“Yes.”
He thumbed her tears away. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” Liar. She did.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
As men often did, he accepted her answer without question and settled into silence, just holding her. When he spoke, his voice rumbled through her. “We shall be married at once.”
Her belly dropped. There was no joy in his tone, only resignation. Tears welled again. They annoyed her because she deplored weepy women.
And she was decidedly weepy.
“I can get a special license tomorrow. I know you wanted a large wedding. I’m sorry. We cannot wait.”
Helena propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at him. “I didn’t want a wedding at all.” Why she put out her lip, she did not know.
Well, perhaps she did. It was irritating that he was not over the moon with joy to discover she was, in fact, his betrothed.
Because she was over the moon—now that she thought on it. She was delighted beyond words that her James was Lord Darlington. That she was betrothed to him and not some other slug of a man.
She couldn’t imagine herself with anyone but James. Even as Edward had been smacking her bottom, she’d been imagining it was James’ hard hand. When he appeared in the room, for a brief, delusional second, she’d imagined she conjured him with her thoughts.
No. James was the only man for her. But he didn’t feel the same. To him, she was nothing but a chess piece in his grand game. A property to acquire. Along with her stables. As soon as possible.
He frowned at her. “No wedding at all? Surely you’ve discarded that nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
“Yes. Nonsense. We’re betrothed. We’ve anticipated the vows. Quite thoroughly. We are getting married.”
She didn’t answer. She hadn’t expected a declaration of love but certainly hadn’t expected his prosaic manner to sting so.
“Helena.” He sat up so he could look down at her. She sat up too. Lengthened her spine to make herself taller. Blast, sometimes she hated being tiny. “Put from your mind the prospect that you can avoid this marriage.” She disliked the way he shook his finger at her as he spoke. Her mutinous mood must have shown in her expression, because his became downright mulish. “What are you thinking?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and realized her breasts were bare. With sharp, short movements, she adjusted her bodice so she was not so exposed and crossed her arms again. “I’m thinking no one asked me if I wanted to marry you.”
“For heaven’s sake.” He glanced at her and paled. “You do, don’t you? You do want to marry me?”
Finally, some emotion. Unfortunately it wasn’t the emotion she was hoping for. It was the petulance of a boy denied a treat. “I’m not sure.”
“What? After everything we’ve shared?”
She rolled away from him and off the bed. She went to the mirror and tried to fix her coiffure. She could see him in the reflection, gaping at her, but she ignored the wounded look on his face. “You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry!” Really. He didn’t need to bellow.
“I cannot abide lies.”
“I won’t lie to you again. I swear.” His cheek bunched. “Besides, you lied too.” This, he muttered.
“And though you were betrothed to someone else—someone you thought was someone else—you seduced me.”
“I couldn’t help it. You were far too attractive to resist.”
Oh. Now he was trying to cajole her. She gave up on her hair and spun around. “Umm hmm. And how many women do you meet who are far too attractive to resist?”
“Helena.” This, he offered in a warning tone, but she was too wound up to stop.
“Lady Satterlee warned me about men like you—”
“Men like me?”
“Spoiled little lords who take what they want.”
“I am not spoiled.” He blinked. “And I’m not little.”
“Men who spend their days in the pursuit of wine, women and debauchery. I cannot bear it. I cannot. I don’t want to be one of those wives waiting patiently at home for her husband to stumble in smelling of cheap perfume and whiskey.”
“I shall never smell of whiskey.”
“Or worse. The ones who have ceased to care. The ones who attend house parties for the sole purpose of seducing a wayward footman.”
The tips of his ears went red. “You will not seduce a footman. Do you hear me?”
“The ones who weep their days away, living a lonely, desperate existence, only hoping, dreaming of the day her life will have some inkling of meaning.”
“There’s no need to be melodramatic.”
“Is there not?” She studied him from tip to toe. “I want a real marriage. With a man who is loving and dear. Not someone who only deigns to wed me to get his hands on my cattle.”
“Those stables are for us. For our future. The future of our children.” He studied her. Swallowed. “Is that what you think? That I only want you for those blasted stables?”
She stared at him.
“It’s not true. It’s not.” He strode across the room and swept her into his arms. “How can you think that?”
“How can I not?”
“Helena, darling.” He carried her to the chair by the table and sat with her on his lap. In this position, they were face to face. She could taste his breath. “You are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.” He kissed her. “You are funny and smart and oh, so brave. You’re delightful and sweet and I want nothing more than to hold you. Forever.”
His words sent a rain of happiness through her. Placated her. A bit.
“Nothing more?” She wiggled on his lap. The growing bulge there made a liar of him.
“All right. Definitely more. But sweetheart, I want to marry you for you. Yes, it was the stables that lured me at first. I wanted them very much. But then I met this minxish fairy who turned my head. She enchanted me. Say you will marry me. Say you’ll be mine and mine alone.”
She glanced at him through lowered lashes. “Does that mean no more visits here?”
He blanched. “What?”
“Edward said they have…viewings.”
“Damn Edward.” James bristled. “Do you have any idea how it felt, walking in here and seeing his hands on you?”
“I should very much like to watch.”
James, enrobed in his fury, gaped at her. “What? Watch what?”
“Watch Naughty Nellie get her spanking.”
“God.” His cock surged against her hip. He buried his face in her hair. He barked out a strangled laugh. “Helena. You cannot come back here. You’re a lady. You’ll be my wife. Lady Darlington. It wouldn’t be fitting.”
“Edward had me wear a mask. He said ladies come here all the time, just incognito.”
“Please stop talking about Edward.”
“If I wore a mask you could bring me here.” She leaned closer, stroked his cock, whispered in his ear, “And we could watch. Together.”
He shuddered. “Darling, you will be the death of me. I swear it.”
“Promise me you will bring me here from time to time.”
“Helena—”
“Promise me if I marry you our life won’t be dreadfully dull.”
He kissed her. “Not for a minute.”
She sighed and nestled her nose into his neck. He smelled wonderful. “Then I will.”
He leaned back to get a look at her. “You will?”
“Yes, James. I will marry you.”
“Thank God.”
He bent his head to kiss her but she forestalled him. “I wa
nt a wedding. At St. Paul’s.”
“Absolutely, darling.”
“And a beautiful dress seeded with pearls and a long train.”
“Naturally.”
“And a reception. All my friends shall be there.”
“I’ll get the special license today.”
“Special license?” She bristled. “I think not.”
“We must, my sweet. We cannot delay.” He bussed her lips. “What if there’s a child? Trust me, it won’t be a problem. The archbishop owes me a favor.”
“I won’t have people talking.”
“I cannot wait a month.”
She trilled a laugh. “One cannot plan a wedding at St. Paul’s in less than a month.” Deviously, she shifted her position, nudging against his insistence. “Please?”
He crumbled.
“Oh, all right.” He kissed her again and this time it lasted for a while. Quite a while. When his hand skated over her thighs and across her hip and then up to cup her breast, she wriggled with delight. When he thumbed a nipple, she sighed.
Things were just getting very interesting when someone knocked at the door.
“What?” he snarled.
The door opened and Moncrieff poked his head in. “Are you two almost finished in here?”
Helena laughed, but James was not amused. “Be gone, Moncrieff.”
“I need my room.” He whined like a child.
“We should go, James.” Helena stood though James tried to keep her on his lap.
“Go?”
“Yes, do,” Moncrieff urged.
“It is getting late and Violet will be wondering where I am.” She picked up her mask from the table and slipped it on.
James gaped at her, his cheeks a trifle mottled. “You’re not going back to Wyeth House.”
“Why ever not?”
“Are you mad?” He gestured at the deviant peering through the half-opened door. “He tried to seduce you.”
“I did not.” Moncrieff managed to arrange an innocent look on his face. “I was very restrained.”
“You turned her over your knee.”
“Only because she provoked me.”
“She what?”
“She gored me in the apples.”
James glanced at Helena. “Did you do that?”
“I did.”
He kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”
“Now please. Would you mind vacating my chambers? I have a need.” He gestured to the inefficiently clothed girl standing behind him. She gave a saucy wave.
“Must you be so vulgar in front of my bride, Moncrieff?”
“Me?” He chuckled. “I’m not the one holding her captive in a house of ill repute. And if I have anything to say about it—”
“You don’t.”
“Lady Helena, you are more than welcome to stay at my home.” He waggled a brow.
“She’s not staying there. I will take her to my house in town.”
“Ah yes.” Moncrieff leaned against the jamb. “A much more appropriate solution for an unmarried lady. The harpies of the ton will gobble that up.”
“Well, she’s not staying with you. She’s my bride.” Again, James was snarling. Helena found she quite liked it. As long as he was snarling at Moncrieff.
The duke put a palm to his chest. “I swear, on all that is holy, I shall show her every courtesy you showed my bride.”
“My point exactly.” Why such a declaration made prickles of sweat pop out on James’ brow, Helena had no clue. But clearly the prospect unnerved him. “She’s coming with me, to my house. Now.” To underscore this dictum, he grasped her elbow, quite firmly, and towed her toward the door.
Helena broke away. “But Violet—”
“Send her a note.” He reached for her again and she danced out of range.
“No, James.”
He stopped, stock-still. Shock rippled across his handsome features. His jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”
Oh dear.
Her heart went out to him. She should have warned him. Someone really should have warned him, before he agreed to marry her. Apparently they hadn’t. No one had so much as whispered the truth about her stubborn streak. For when Helena Eloise Simpson made up her mind, she would not be swayed. Not even by a deliciously seductive earl.
“I said no.”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“She said no. I heard her. I don’t know why you missed it.”
James glared at Moncrieff. Then he glared at Helena, remembered, and studiously fixed a conciliatory expression on his face. He took both her hands in his and squeezed, as though such tenderness would turn her head.
“I’m not going to your home.” She slipped from his grip and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not until we’re married.”
He rather sputtered for a moment. “You cannot stay here—”
“Indeed not.” Moncrieff again. He appeared to be enjoying this.
“And you are not staying at his house—”
She collected her wrap and headed for the door.
“Helena Eloise Simpson!”
She tossed a smirk over her shoulder. If James thought merely bellowing her full name would bring her to heel, he had a lot to learn about women.
“Darling.”
All right. That was better. She slowed and shot a meaningful glance at him. “I will be staying at Wyeth House until the wedding.”
He went a trifle green. “B-but darling. You can’t… You can hardly understand… You don’t know…”
“About the orgies?” Now he looked very ill. “I am quite aware of the reputation of Wyeth House.”
“So.” Moncrieff straightened. “Have you an interest in orgies?”
James’ glare silenced him but did nothing to scuttle the duke’s grin. Helena’s glare, however, sobered him quite effectively. Or perhaps it was her next words that unnerved Moncrieff.
“However, those days are over.” She illustrated this point with a sharp slash of her hand. “Now that Violet and her family are there, no more such nonsense will occur.”
“Hardly nonsense.” Moncrieff had no call to pout.
Helena narrowed her eyes at the duke and he shrank back. “Your Aunt Hortense will be arriving soon so there will be adequate chaperonage. Wyeth House will become a bastion of respectability. Violet and I will be on our best behavior and only partake in the most refined pursuits.”
“Such as, I don’t know, browsing the library?” Moncrieff made this suggestion in the most innocent manner. But both he and Helena caught the underpinnings of his barb.
Helena rounded on him. “And you, sir—”
“You’re quite alluring when you wag that finger, you know.” He grinned down at her from his towering height, clearly amused by her ferocity.
James growled but Helena ignored him. She poked Moncrieff’s chest with that finger—and hard. “And you, sir, will be on your best behavior. You will be the perfect gentleman and you will not tease me or toy with me or attempt to seduce me. In my presence, you shall be as chivalrous as a knight.”
He smirked. “Or?”
Helena leaned in close and hissed, “Or I shall make your life a living hell.”
It was not a tone she often used, but when she did, she did it well.
Moncrieff froze and studied her. All humor faded. He swallowed slowly. His gaze flicked to James; a hint of trepidation lingered in those deep-brown depths. “Darlington,” he suggested in a croak, “I would be much obliged if you could get a special license.”
Chapter Sixteen
James took Helena back to Wyeth House in a coach for hire. As an added security to her cloak and mask, he had the coach pick them up in the mews. He swept her quickly from the back door of Madame Chantilly’s and into the conveyance so no one would see.
It was not his custom to be overly possessive and protective of a woman, but with Helena, these instincts consumed him.
Once they were settled in their seats, he remo
ved her mask, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Ah,” he murmured. “Alone at last.” He loved that she set her small palm on his cheek.
“We had better enjoy this, James,” she said between busses. “I doubt we shall be alone again for a long, long while.”
He stiffened—and not in a good way.
Well, in that way too.
Horror and something of a panicked arousal snarled through him. It was true. Until they were married, society would be watching their every move. Blast.
He should have taken her again. He should have kicked Moncrieff’s smirking ass out of his chambers and taken her again.
“I don’t think I can bear it.”
“Of course you can.” She nestled closer, merely proving his point. His cock, so recently sated, rose again. He fumbled for her hem. She caught his hand. “There’s hardly time for that.”
“I’ll have the coachman take the long way around.”
“No. We must wait.”
Dear God. That tone again. She’d used it before, once with him and once—even more satisfactorily—with Moncrieff. He loved the way she’d silenced that ass with a look. A mere glance. It gave him some measure of comfort about the prospect of Helena remaining under the Dark Duke’s roof.
If the need arose, she was not too timid to put him in his place. She’d gored him in the apples, for glory sake. The thought made him grin and he pulled her closer. “You will be on your best behavior, darling, won’t you?” he whispered.
She sat back and studied him. “Why are you so worried?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Why are you so worried about me staying with Moncrieff? He’s quite manageable.”
Manageable? “He lured you to the most decadent haunt in London.”
“Only because I was slightly befuddled by that drink he gave me.”
James blanched. “What drink?” Did he really need to ask?
“He said it was the Water of Life.”
Fuck. He wiped a palm over his face. “You are never to drink Moncrieff’s whiskey. Do you understand? It is a vile brew.”
“It was quite nice. Once I got used to it.”
“It’s the getting used to it that will do you in. You must always be on your guard with him. Do you hear me? I hate that you’ll be staying under his roof.”
“Why?”
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