“I live in anticipation,” Helene said with a curl of her lip.
“I don’t know why you’re so preoccupied with the idea that Helene must reconcile with her husband,” Gina said to Esme. “It’s almost as if you wish Helene to return to her husband simply because you reconciled with Miles.”
“Nonsense,” Esme said tartly. “But Helene wants to have a child, and Rees is the obvious choice. If she finds herself in an interesting condition due to the efforts of some other man, who could say how Rees will react?”
“I don’t even care,” Helene said. “I would retire to the country and raise my baby.”
“But I would miss you,” Esme pointed out. “We would both miss you, and you would miss us. You would miss London.”
“No, I wouldn’t miss London,” Helene said stubbornly. “I agree with Rees as far as that goes: the season is a dreadful waste of time. As long as I had both my pianos in the country, I would be completely happy.”
“She’s right,” Gina said. “You were bored in the country, Esme. But the fact that you happily abandoned your Sewing Circle doesn’t mean that Helene would feel the same. For one, I enjoy living on our estate.”
“Be that as it may,” Esme said stubbornly, “it’s always better if a child’s father is his father.”
“Of course that’s true,” Gina admitted.
“And I’m the only one of us who has actually committed adultery,” Esme said. “So I can tell you with some authority that it makes a person feel rather loathsome, after the fact.”
“That may be true,” Helene said, “but bedding Rees makes me feel just as loathsome, I’m sure.”
Gina bit her lip. “You’ll have to give us some details, Helene.” And, when Helene said nothing, “You must, you absolutely must. Otherwise we’ll never be able to decide whether you should return to Rees or look farther afield.”
“Perhaps I should be the one to decide that!” Helene said tartly. But then she gave in. “Bedding simply didn’t work for us,” she said with a faint shrug. “I was disgusted, and he disliked the fact I am so thin. The pain didn’t go away after the first time, the way it is supposed to. In fact, it only really started to fade after several months, and by then it was clear that our marriage was an utter disaster.”
“Oh, poor you,” Gina said, giving her a hug.
“It was very distressing at the time, naturally. But I have come to the conclusion that the bedding process is not for me, and I can’t say that the fact causes me much grief.”
“I’d be inclined to ascribe that to your husband’s ineptitude,” Esme said.
“I agree,” Gina said, nodding.
Helene shrugged again. “It isn’t worth discussion.”
“Poor you,” Gina repeated. “Well, I vote for the Earl of Mayne. Why should Helene be forced to petition her husband for a child? Rees is living with an opera singer, after all. I say that Rees deserves what he gets. And I also think that Helene should not be forced back into a situation that causes her pain and humiliation!”
“That’s all very well,” Esme said stubbornly, “but I still think that Rees, unpleasant though he is in bed—and out, for that matter—is the better option. I simply believe that Helene will feel a good deal more comfortable if her son actually is Earl Godwin, rather than being illegitimate. And if we think ahead, what of your son, Helene? How would he feel if he knew that he was really an illegitimate offspring of the Earl of Mayne, all the time he was carrying the title of Earl Godwin?”
“Perhaps I’ll have a daughter,” Helene pointed out.
“The fact is,” Esme went on, “my little William has inherited the title of Lord Rawlings from Miles although he’s really Sebastian’s child. I don’t feel right about that although I am persuaded that Miles would forgive me, under the circumstances. But it also means that Sebastian’s eldest son won’t inherit his title…it’s all very complicated.”
“I forgot that you were entangled in something of an inheritance mess yourself, Esme,” Gina said.
“Luckily Simon Darby, who would have been Miles’s heir, is so hopelessly rich that he says he doesn’t give a pea about the inheritance or title. I actually think it’s hardest on Sebastian.”
“Miles was a decent, good man,” Gina said. “And so is Sebastian. But Rees isn’t. Oh, I know he’s not a murderer or anything. But I don’t think that he deserves very much consideration, given the way he has treated Helene. He threw her out of her house!”
“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Helene said, rather wearily. “The question is moot, for the moment anyway.”
“Have I told you how much I adore your hair?” Gina asked. “Are you using lampblack to darken your eyelashes? Because I am an expert on the subject. The best product is resin. It’s rather hard to find, but you can buy it in Haymarket.”
“I have been using black frankincense,” Helene said, perking up. “How does that compare to resin?”
There was a knock at the door. “An hour has passed, my lady,” Harries announced. He was holding a salver strewn with cards. “Twenty-four persons have called and left their cards; one person just arrived. Shall I announce him?”
“Who is it?” Helene asked.
“The Earl of Mayne.”
“Of course!” Gina said, clapping her hands.
When Harries had closed the door and gone to fetch their caller, Esme added quickly: “I do think that you should continue a flirtation with Mayne, for the moment anyway. Rees obviously responds to competition. Look at last night!”
“What about last night?” Helene said, wondering whether she should put on more lip color.
Gina answered her unspoken question by handing her a small pot of the color she had just put on her own lips. “Why are you beautifying yourself?” Helene said, taking the color. “You are married.”
“I could say the same to you,” Gina replied, grinning. “I would never even think of being unfaithful to Cam. But that doesn’t mean that I have to look like a corpse in the presence of a man as delicious as Mayne.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Mayne himself said, strolling into the room. “I have a peculiar dislike of corpses in a lady’s sitting room.” He bowed elegantly. “Well, this is a true pleasure. Three of the most ravishing women in all London in one room!”
Helene couldn’t help thinking that the earl had shown no sign of considering her ravishing a month ago. But it was hard not to appreciate his compliment. When he looked at her with those deep-set eyes, marked by straight black brows, Helene felt a thrill straight down her spine. He himself was, quite simply, ravishing.
“If you’ll forgive me, ladies, I will play Prince Paris. Surely you three are Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite.” He grinned down at them, and even Gina, who was starting to think that she’d left Max for rather longer than she wished to, felt a spark of pleasure. But then Mayne turned to Helene and gave her his madcap, suggestive grin. “As Paris, I award the golden apple to Aphrodite. Because she has been hiding her radiance for so long that it’s burst forth with particular brilliance.”
Helene raised an eyebrow, but Esme nipped in before her. “A tediously overwrought compliment,” she said reprovingly. “Surely you can do better than that! Besides, I was labeled the Aphrodite when I debuted, and I would take it very amiss to find that I’ve been demoted to Hera.”
“Every Aphrodite has her day,” he said, twinkling at Esme. “If you ladies would allow me a private visit with Lady Godwin, I assure that I could wax far more eloquent.”
“Well, I expect we shall have to give you free rein for your eloquence, Mayne,” Esme said, rising.
He bowed and kissed the very tips of her fingers. “It’s a pleasure to see you so radiant, Lady Bonnington.”
Esme laughed.
“Good-bye, Helene,” Gina said, pulling Esme toward the door. “No, don’t worry, Mayne. You can kiss my hand next time.” Giving him a conspiratorial smile, she closed the door behind them.
Mayne turned around
and looked down at Lady Godwin. She was faintly pink, and seemed to be examining her skirts with great curiosity. He sat down next to her on the couch, stretching out his legs before him. “I am enchanted to see you so unscathed by last evening’s debacle,” he said.
Helene could feel herself blushing so hard that her ears were going red. If only she didn’t blush so much! “My husband and I are—are friends, Lord Mayne. Truly, there is little disagreement between us.”
“That sounds remarkably refreshing,” Mayne said, picking up one of her hands and running his thumb delicately down each finger. His grin really was irresistible. Helene smiled at him a little shyly. She wasn’t used to the heady pleasures of flirtation.
“Won’t you call me Garret?” he said softly. “You did so last night.”
Helene just knew that she looked unattractively pink in the face. “I apologize for leaving the ball after I informed you that we would meet directly.”
He turned her hand over and began brushing kisses onto the rounded part of each finger. “The occasion lost all interest after you left.” He spread her hand against his. “How slender your fingers are, compared to mine. Musician’s hands.”
“Yes,” Helene said rather uncertainly. Her heart was thumping quickly.
Suddenly his fingers curled in between hers. “May I kiss you?”
Helene hesitated. He took that for a yes, and she caught one last glimpse of his dark eyes before his head bent and he brushed a kiss on her lips. And another. Another. His kisses were very sweet. Delicate. Helene relaxed. He had very large hands: without question he would be able to span one-and-a-half octaves.
“Do you play?” she said, against his mouth.
“All the time,” he answered. He went back to his brushing kisses, without seeming to be in any hurry.
Helene found that she was quite enjoying it. Then she realized that perhaps he hadn’t understood her question. “I mean, do you play music?” she asked.
“That too.” He moved closer and put a finger under her chin to tip it up. “May I play with you?”
Helene could feel her heart pounding so hard it was likely visible through the thin fabric of her gown. That was the important question, wasn’t it. And yet—she couldn’t do anything of that sort. “It isn’t the right time,” she managed.
He bent his head again and his lips drifted across hers. She wouldn’t mind if he tried to kiss her a bit more …intently. But he didn’t. Instead his mouth drifted off to the corner of her lips. “Curiosity is my besetting sin,” he said silky. “Also a ruthless wish to have things absolutely clear between playfellows. Is it not the right time because you are, alas, attached to that shaggy husband of yours, or is the issue a rather more ephemeral one?”
Helene opened her mouth to answer but he took advantage of it and slid inside. She found her arms around his neck without conscious volition. I don’t like this kind of kissing, she thought to herself, rather wonderingly. But she liked Mayne’s kiss. He was so debonair and restrained.
Finally Mayne himself drew back, and Helene was startled to see that he was looking at her with distinct hunger. No man had ever looked at her with that expression, although she’d often seen them looking at Esme that way.
“I want you, Helene Godwin,” he said, and there was a dark throb in his voice that made Helene’s legs feel weak.
“I couldn’t—I’ve never—” she stumbled, and then pulled herself together. “I’ve never done such a thing before.”
His hands were holding her face lightly. “You are so exquisite,” he whispered. “Was I blind before last night?” His fingers ran over her cheekbones. “I must have been blind not to see your beauty.”
“Thank you,” Helene said awkwardly.
Then his mouth came to hers again, and this time it was easier; this time she sank more naturally into the circle of his arms, and her mouth opened up to his with a little gasp. And when he let her go, Helene found that her hands were trembling.
“I hope that you will give me a place in your life,” Mayne said, and Helene registered the hoarse note in his voice with a feeling of pure triumph. “I generally do not think myself a fool,” he continued, with a rueful tilt of his eyebrows. “But I’ve been a fool. In the last few years, I’ve ranged far and wide amongst the ladies of the ton, Helene. Frankly, I’ve stopped caring very much if a particular lady refused my attentions. And yet I find myself caring a great deal about your answer. And that is a truth.”
Helene knew that he was, indeed, telling the truth.
Fifteen
In Which Helene Finds Herself Unaccountably Desirable
Helene was having one of the most thrilling mornings of her life. The Earl of Mayne had left her with her heart beating quickly, stooping over her for one second before he left and kissing her cheek. “You are utterly enchanting,” he whispered.
Helene had grinned like a fool. No one had ever called her enchanting. Mayne had left only when the butler announced that there were fifteen ladies crowded into the library, and then he strolled out so slowly that everyone knew exactly why she was pink and slightly breathless. All of which gave her a sense of power that went to her head like fizzy wine.
She didn’t even blink when he kissed Lady Winifred’s hand, and complimented Mrs. Gower on her reticule. He was hers. He turned back, for just a moment, before he took his cloak from Harries, and she saw it in his eyes.
Thus Helene greeted her guests with the smile of an utterly confident woman. “How lovely to see you, Lady Hamilton!” she said. “Your ball last night was a remarkable success.”
“Due to you,” Lady Hamilton replied cheerfully. “There’s nothing like a sensation to give one’s ball polish. I came to thank you, my dear…”
And so it went. The whole morning was a series of delightful conversations. Even Mrs. Austerleigh’s waspish comment that the Earl of Mayne was nothing more than a rakehell didn’t disturb Helene. She knew as well as anyone that Mrs. Austerleigh was lucky to have gained the earl’s attentions for one evening. She should have been happy with that, instead of lamenting his supposedly wandering eye.
“I find him a pleasant companion,” Helene assured her. “Nothing more.”
“But your husband!” Mrs. Austerleigh tittered. “Do you find him a pleasant companion as well? You could have knocked me to the ground with a feather when I saw Lord Godwin stride into the ballroom last night. I had to ask dear Patricia whether she actually invited him. An odd decision on her part, to be sure.”
“Rees and I are comfortable together,” Helene said cautiously.
“You must be!” Mrs. Austerleigh laughed shrilly. But her laugh broke off in midair as Rees himself strode into the room.
He ignored all her guests and walked straight over to her, with his usual lack of common courtesy. To Helene’s mind, his behavior presented an eye-opening contrast to that of the Earl of Mayne.
“Rees,” she said, holding out her hand for a kiss. It was a bit odd knowing that his legs were as muscled under those breeches as she had discovered last night. The very thought made her want to giggle.
“Helene,” he said, “I must—”
But then he seemed to realize that fifteen pairs of eyes were watching him with keen curiosity. “Perhaps we could speak in private for a moment?”
“Alas, this is not a convenient moment,” she said, her smile not slipping an inch. “If you send me a note, we could fix on a mutually agreeable time…next week, perhaps?” He frowned, probably thinking that she was acting like a recalcitrant servant.
Actually, Rees was making a rather unpleasant discovery that had little to do with servitude. He had forgotten, again, that this Helene wasn’t the girl he married. He seemed to have to make that discovery over and over: he had married a hysterical, high-strung young girl, easily driven to tears by a few strong words. But in the last few years, she had utterly changed.
“I would prefer to speak to you now,” he said. He turned and gave a hard-eyed stare to the madams twit
tering with each other, their teacups halfway up to their mouths, fairly trembling with curiosity. Finally Lady Hamilton put down her cup, hopped to her feet, and made a quick apology to Helene. The others followed suit like a flock of chickens running from a rainstorm.
“There,” he said with satisfaction, when the room was empty. He strode over and sat down on a comfortable looking couch. There was a cup of tea in front of him likely not even tasted, so he drank it.
“You are revolting,” Helene said, sitting opposite him. “I’ll pour you your own cup of tea if you’d like some.”
“I loathe tea,” he said. But he was interested to hear from her voice that she wasn’t really that angry with him. Perhaps tupping on a couch was the key to wifely good temper. He wouldn’t mind a few more sessions, if they resulted in a peaceful household. She was wearing another one of those gowns like the one she wore last night. He could see the long line of her thigh. Suddenly his breeches felt a bit tight.
“Why are you here, Rees?” Helene asked him.
“I’ve come to bring you back to the house,” he said bluntly. There were two cucumber sandwiches left, so he ate them. He’d been up since five in the morning, working on those damn orchestrations, and he was famished, even given the coddled eggs he ate for breakfast.
There was silence, so finally he looked up. Helene was looking rather amused.
“Don’t tell me you actually think I’m taking you seriously?” she asked.
“You’re my wife. I want you back. Tell your maids that I’ll send over a couple of footmen to carry your boxes.”
“You must be cracked!”
“No. Unless I’m much mistaken, we have decided to have an heir, and we may already have begun the process. Under those circumstances, obviously you have to move back into the house.”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t move into that house for a million pounds. And you cannot have really expected that I would do so!”
“I know you, Helene. You’ll want what’s best for the child. And living in his family home with a father on the premises is by far the best.” Darby had been absolutely right. He could see in her eyes that fatherhood was a potent argument.