“I expect she will be busy, which should keep her out of trouble.”
Cora lowered her head.
Mr. White took the money from his mother and brought it to Helena. “I deeply regret what has happened tonight, my lady. This money is ill-gotten gains, and I will not allow it in my home. It cannot erase what my mother has done, but please, accept it as reparation.”
Helena pushed his hand away. She couldn’t stomach the sight of the small stack of bills. Was this all her reputation was worth?
“There must be something we can do,” Helena said. Even as the words left her lips, she knew it was hopeless. Showing up at the editor’s door demanding the story not be printed wouldn’t solve anything. The truth about her past was no longer a secret, and word would spread one way or another.
Sebastian helped her from the chair. “We should go.”
Cora stood too and threw her arms around Helena. “Please forgive me, Helena. Please do not disown me. I’m sorry.”
Helena halfheartedly hugged her back. “You are my sister. Nothing will ever change that fact, but you need to straighten up and stop behaving like a child. You have a good man who loves you, and a family that needs you.”
Her sister nodded and swiped at her tears. “I know.”
Mr. White walked Helena, Sebastian, and Fergus to the door, insisting they come through the shop. He withdrew a key to unlock the metal gate across the glass-front door and apologized again.
She smiled sadly. “I do not hold you responsible, Mr. White.”
Sebastian placed his arm around her shoulders and ushered her to the carriage. His warmth filled her with sadness. She didn’t know how she would survive losing him.
“What time is it?” he asked Fergus.
Fergus extracted his watch with a sigh and checked the time. “It is three o’clock.”
Sebastian mumbled directions, then climbed into the carriage and sat beside her. As the carriage started with a small jerk, he gathered her in his arms. “Mother and Eve will be asleep, but I am sure they will understand.”
Her despair interfered with her ability to comprehend. “Pardon?”
“They should hear the news from us.”
Her face flamed. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so very sorry.”
“Almost three weeks with no scandal. We had a nice stretch.” He twirled a strand of hair that had fallen at her cheek. “Scandal is our family legacy, I’m afraid. You will grow accustomed to it in time, my beloved wife-to-be.”
Her breath caught.
He smiled and kissed the end of her nose. “You didn’t think this changed anything between us, did you? I have never been happier than I have been with you these last few weeks, Helena. You are my life, my meaning. I cannot turn my back on us.”
Fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks. “But what about your mother and Eve?”
He swept his thumb across the wetness and sighed. “I wish I could spare them, but what is done is done. There is no going back. Mother and Eve are resilient enough to weather the storm, and so are we.”
Nothing would be the way she had imagined, but he was correct. She would persevere, just as she had endured the last nine years. Only this time she wasn’t alone.
Her throat felt thick with emotion. This time she had this loving, kind man by her side. Her sisters were back in her life. And she would be part of a family again.
She trailed her finger along the curve of his dark brow, the gentle slope of his nose, his lovely mouth, and his strong chin. Her hand rested on his chest. No, nothing was exactly as she’d imagined, but she had everything she wanted, and the only thing she had ever needed.
Sebastian.
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
His lips brushed against hers, moist and hot like the summer evening. He enveloped her: his scent, his taste, the feel of his taut muscles beneath her palm. His hands made slow passes over her back, spreading fire through her veins. She strained into his kiss, and he lifted her onto his lap with ease; his fingers nestled into her hair. When he pulled back slightly, his mouth hovered over hers. They shared one breath, one heartbeat. His eyes glittered in the dim interior of the carriage.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Thirty
Sebastian woke before Helena. Sunlight streamed through her bedchamber windows, brightening the already cheerful yellow walls. She was half sprawled atop him in the bed, her soft hair covering his shoulder and arm like a luxurious blanket. Her bare breast was flattened against his chest. He hugged her and placed a featherlight kiss on her forehead, being careful not to wake her. He hoped she would remain in blissful unconsciousness a while longer.
The knot that had formed in his throat last night when they learned Helena’s past would be exposed had doubled in size. He had feigned bravado with her in the carriage. Not that he doubted their ability to persevere. They would. But the weeks ahead would be difficult.
The ladies who had befriended her would give her the cut direct in the streets. There would be no invitations. Lady Eldridge would be forced to disown Helena if she hoped to save face herself. And they were likely looking at months of hurtful lies being printed about Helena. About him. Possibly Eve.
His sister and mother had been amazing in their acceptance of Helena last night when he woke them. His mother had sat with Helena on the sofa, holding her hand and lending quiet strength.
And Eve… She had been classic Eve.
You love her, Sebastian James Edmund Thorne, and if you do not marry her, I will crown you with this—she grabbed a three-pronged candelabrum from the sideboard and shook it. This! You are happy. Do not muck it up.
He had laughed and ruffled her hair to hide his swell of emotion. I have no plans to break our betrothal, poppet, but your approval warms my heart.
He wouldn’t leave Eve’s future to chance, however. Her happiness was important too. Today he would seek out Sir Jonathan and double his sister’s dowry. The gentleman could take her far away, on one of his expeditions. If there were someplace safe enough Sebastian could agree to let her go.
He tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. He didn’t want to send away his sister. It would break Mother’s heart. And his.
They could all retreat to Aldmist Fell until the scandal died away. Sebastian would have to give up his work for the King’s former soldiers, but surely his father would have wanted him to take care of family first. Perhaps Ellis would agree to cosponsor the act in Sebastian’s stead.
Helena began to wake. She exhaled, her breath dancing across his skin and stirring the hair on his chest.
He stroked her soft cheek. “Good morning, love.”
“Morning,” she mumbled and stretched long like that worthless cat she had rescued.
Now that he wasn’t smarting from the feline’s vicious claws, the surprise attack was a bit humorous. He chuckled, jostling Helena.
She rose to her elbow. “Why are you laughing?”
“I was just wondering if that hellcat is going to pounce again while I am putting on my trousers.”
She rolled to her back, her sweet dimples winking up at him. “I put her out of the chamber last night. You are safe.”
“Thank you.” He gave her a sound kiss then crawled from bed. “I should go.”
“Where are you going? I thought you would stay long enough to break your fast.”
He grabbed the trousers he had discarded on a chair early that morning. She sat up in bed and the covers fell to her waist. Her pale pink nipples puckered in the cooler air. His morning cockstand returned. With a soft groan, he turned his back to her and shoved his leg into the trousers. “I need to call on Sir Jonathan. He should know what has happened.”
“Do you think he will break the betrothal?”
Sebastian shrugged and fastened the front fall of his trousers. “I intend to offer him more incentive to go through with the marriage.”
“I’m so sorry for everything,” she said with a weary sigh.
He turne
d toward her. “You are not to blame. Remember, we will get through this together.”
“I know.” She rubbed her nose as if fighting back tears. “Your mother and sister were wonderfully kind and understanding last night.”
“They love you, just as I do.” He pulled his shirt over his head, moved to the bed, and kissed her. “Get dressed, love. I can stay long enough for us to enjoy breakfast together. Be quick about it.”
Her dimples reappeared, and she scrambled from bed to yank the bellpull.
Belowstairs, Sebastian sent Fergus to purchase a copy of The Informer. He wanted to know what damage they were facing. Less than half an hour later, Helena joined him in the breakfast room. She wore a simple apron-front frock in a light green shade that complemented her eyes, and her hair had been simply arranged.
“I should call on Olive this morning,” she said. “She should hear the truth from me. I hate to think of her reading the paper before I see her.”
It was still early enough for the countess to remain abed if she had attended a party last night.
The front door opened and closed, and Fergus appeared in the doorway in moments. The paper was tucked under his arm, but he also held a calling card. “Milady, you have a caller this morning. Laird St. Ambrose has requested an audience.”
Helena’s eyes rounded. “Oh! I suppose you should show him to the drawing room.”
Fergus nodded and stalked from the breakfast room.
Sebastian lifted his eyebrows. “St. Ambrose?”
Helena shrugged one shoulder, wiped her mouth with the napkin, and set it beside her plate. “I should see what he wants.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed when a dark red blush spread to her forehead. He pushed back from the table. “We will see what he wants.”
He offered his escort and she linked arms with him.
St. Ambrose was sprawled on the settee, his arm propped along the back and his foot casually crossed over his knee. He rose in deference to Helena and acknowledged Sebastian with a slight nod.
“My apologies for interrupting when you already have a caller, Lady Prestwick.”
“You aren’t interrupting, my lord.”
Sebastian arched a brow. “Indeed not, sir. My betrothed and I were just discussing the details of our wedding.” It was rather possessive of him, he knew.
“Congratulations, Thorne.” The marquess smirked. “And my sympathies, Lady Prestwick.”
Helena cleared her throat and lowered to one of the chairs. “Well, I suppose we should get to the reason you are here. Or should I order tea first?”
Sebastian took up position behind her seat.
“No, please.” St. Ambrose waved away her offer. “I won’t take up much of your time, but I have news. It’s fortuitous the baron is here, since it relates to his interests as well.”
“You saw The Informer,” Helena said. “It wasn’t Cora, not that the culprit matters at this point.”
St. Ambrose offered an enigmatic smile. “I know Cora is not responsible. It was her mother-in-law.”
Sebastian blinked. “I’m surprised The Informer would divulge its source.”
“It is not standard practice, no. Neither does The London Observer, A Lady’s Companion, or The Talebearer. But as the primary investor of every gossip rag in Town, I am privy to the sources. No story is printed without my knowledge and approval.”
Sebastian’s body tensed, his fingers curling into a fist. “What the hell are you saying? That you approved the story about Lady Prestwick?”
“I am saying that story will never be printed.” His eyes burned with a fierceness Sebastian hadn’t known the marquess possessed. “It would ruin Lavinia’s family, and I will protect her and the ones she loves with my last breath. And I will destroy anyone I must if necessary.”
“You truly love her,” Helena said softly.
“Yes, I love your sister.” The marquess shoved his fingers through his hair, his expression miserable. “Cupid is a vindictive little creature, is he not? I love Lavinia and she loves me, but it seems our differences are an obstacle to our happiness.”
Sebastian experienced a jolt of pity for the man. Even under the direst circumstances, Sebastian and Helena could be together. They might have to endure stares and whispers behind their backs, but St. Ambrose was in love with a courtesan. Miss Kendrick would never be accepted in their world.
St. Ambrose addressed Helena. “I have offered marriage to your sister. She has denied me repeatedly, but I will not tether myself to anyone else.”
Helena’s mouth dropped open. Sebastian didn’t know what to say, but the marquess didn’t seem to require a response.
“I have spoken with my brother about my wishes, and he is aware he will one day inherit the marquessate. The title will pass to my oldest nephew after him. I will never marry unless Lavinia agrees to become my wife.”
What manner of insanity was this? A gentleman would shirk his duty for—for…
True love.
Sebastian had no call to pass judgment. Love made a man do any number of mad things. Even he had been willing to walk away when it came to a choice between his duties and Helena.
Helena shifted on the chair. “You own every gossip sheet in Town? How could that be?”
“I was willing to pay whatever price was presented. He who controls the gossip controls everything. Now Lavinia has no reason to worry about anything unsavory being printed in the papers when we marry.”
Helena’s hand covered her heart. “Has she agreed to marry you?”
“Not yet,” St. Ambrose said with a smug smile, “but I am told I can be very persuasive.”
Sebastian snorted softly. He had said something similar to Helena not long ago. Obviously, there was something about the Kendrick sisters that brought out a gentleman’s competitive instincts.
Suddenly, it dawned on him that St. Ambrose was not only responsible for saving Helena’s reputation, he had been shredding Sebastian’s the last few weeks. He scowled. “What was that nonsense about dragging up my past and questioning my sanity after Lady Gabrielle’s elopement?”
St. Ambrose’s grin spread. “They are gossip sheets, Thorne. I have to allow the papers to print something to keep everyone happy.”
“And I would feel happier drawing your cork,” he said as he rounded the chair and advanced on the marquess.
“Wait.” St. Ambrose held up a hand, laughing. “No more. I promise. We are as good as family now. You will never see your name in any of my papers again, nor anyone related to you.”
Sebastian halted in front of him and dropped his fist. He wasn’t likely to get a better offer. “I will hold you to that promise.”
He stuck out his hand and St. Ambrose shook it. “You have no cause for worry.”
After the marquess left, Sebastian had to see for himself that St. Ambrose was telling the truth. He retrieved the paper from Fergus and sat on the settee with Helena, flipping through the pages slowly. When they reached the last page without any mention of Helena or Prestwick, she closed it with a breathy laugh.
“That is it. We remain untouched by scandal.”
Sebastian’s lips curved up. “Is that so, Lady Prestwick? Untouched, you say. That will never do.” He tugged her on his lap and grabbed her bottom with both hands. She squealed and wiggled, making the task of touching her more enjoyable.
“Sebastian, the door is open. What if someone sees us?”
“You heard St. Ambrose. We can behave as scandalously as we wish without rumors of it ever finding its way into the papers.”
She stopped trying to crawl from his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I look forward to many scandalous moments with you, sir. I have heard you are worth the risk to one’s reputation.”
“Then I shall endeavor not to disappoint you.”
Her lovely eyes glowed and the dimples he had fallen in love with winked at him. “You could never disappoint me, Sebastian. In any way.”
And then he kissed h
er like a man who loves a woman should, with passion, tenderness, and a drive to always meet her expectations.
Epilogue
Olive had wanted to make a fuss over Helena’s wedding, but Helena took a stand and insisted the ceremony at St. George’s be kept small. There would be opportunity aplenty for Society to scrutinize her and Sebastian at the extravagant wedding breakfast being held at Eldridge House afterward. Now she just wanted to be around the people she loved most.
Ismay shook out Helena’s champagne-colored skirts in the church foyer before handing her a bouquet of pale pink hothouse lilies. “You look lovely, milady.”
Gracie took up position beside Helena’s maid and tipped her head to the side. She ran a critical eye from Helena’s head to her toes and back again. A wide smile broke across her face and she nodded, bouncing the tiny curls Ismay had made with the iron before they left the town house.
Helena’s youngest sister had come to live with her three days earlier. She hadn’t seemed disturbed in the least by the move, but Helena was still a bit wary about taking her to live at Thorne Place after the wedding. Her little sister had undergone many changes in her young life already.
Olive poked her head through the double doors leading to the sanctuary. “It is time. Are you ready, my dear?”
“Fergus is retrieving something from the carriage, then we will be ready.”
Her loyal Scot and his sister were staying in London until the end of the Season. Then they all would travel to Aldmist Fell in the autumn.
Opening the door wider, Olive held out her hand. “Come along, Miss Gracie. I need someone to keep me company while your sister and Lord Thorne exchange vows.”
Gracie went to her readily and took her hand. “Shall I help you back to your seat?”
“Oh yes, dearest. I’ve quite forgotten my way.” Olive winked at Helena before allowing Gracie to pull her down the aisle. The door swung shut.
Tears threatened to make an appearance, but Helena blinked them back. Olive had become a most precious friend, accepting not only Gracie, but the truth about Helena’s past. Helena and Sebastian had agreed it was only right to be honest with Wickie’s cousin, so she could decide if she wanted to continue an association with Helena.
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