“Helena.” He bowed formally, his guts still churning with the horrible revelations Elijah Decker had made, his knuckles throbbing with the aftereffects of his call upon Lord Algernon. The pain had been worth every bit of the satisfaction of watching his fist connect with that bastard’s jaw, however. “I did not expect to find you here.”
“Nor I you.” Her hand lowered, revealing the creamy elegance of her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Was any woman’s neck as delectable as hers? Gabe could not summon an image of one to his mind. The day was gloomy, the skies gray with the ominous portent of rain, and yet she shone like a beacon.
He recalled her query and swallowed, trying to gain control over his tumultuous thoughts. “I met with Lady Jo’s husband, Mr. Decker. He had a great deal to say, all of which was disturbingly enlightening. The only course of action seemed to be to confront Lady Beatrice and let her father know the deviousness and treachery his daughter has been about.”
That was putting it mildly.
But Gabe could not face the full implications of Lady Beatrice’s plans for Helena. Not if he wished to continue functioning. Not if he wanted to confront his former betrothed and make her pay for what she had been plotting to do to Helena.
“I just met with Lady Beatrice myself,” Helena said softly. “I do not think an interview with her on your part is necessary, though if you deem it such, I shan’t offer any opposition.”
Her graciousness in this, as in every matter of their marriage thus far, could not be denied. He had been searching for the perfect countess, the wife who would never betray or disappoint or hurt him. The wife who would be loyal and true. And all along, he had been looking for her in the wrong place. He had seen her in the wrong woman.
Because as he gazed upon Helena, Countess of Huntingdon, this magnificent lady he had married, he knew with sudden, undeniable clarity, that the woman who was the perfect wife for him in every way was the one he had wed.
Grandfather had been wrong, and breaking his vow to wed Lady Beatrice had been the best decision Gabe had ever made. A sudden rush of peace traveled over him, profound and sweeping.
He had to swallow against a knot of emotion rising in his throat. “I am sorry, Helena. So damned sorry.”
For more than he could say.
“I am not nearly as concerned for myself as I am for you and what it would have meant for you had their plotting come to fruition.” Helena’s gaze upon him was unbearably tender. “And I am sorry for ever aligning myself with such a hopeless blackguard. If I had not arranged for that assignation, I never would have lost my necklace.”
He reached out, grazing his fingers over that stubborn chin of hers. “But then, you would have never wed me, and I, for one, am heartily glad you did.”
Her lips parted. “You are?”
He could kick himself anew for being a cad. “I am.”
There was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes. “But I am nothing like the woman you would have married before I came along and ruined your plans.”
“Thank God for that,” he said with great feeling. “What did you say to Lady Beatrice? I want to be certain she will never cause further problems for you. I had intended to see her father, to inform him of everything his daughter has been about.”
Helena smiled. “I told her about a handkerchief now in my possession, one embroidered with her initials and with her favorite flower, which her co-conspirator managed to filch from her. I warned her that if she ever attempts to interfere in our marriage or cause trouble for us, I will use the handkerchief against her in the same manner she would have used my necklace against me.”
He ought to have known she could handle herself. She was the smartest, bravest woman he knew.
“When Decker’s ruffians met with Lord Algernon, they managed to get him to surrender the necklaceandthe handkerchief?” he asked, impressed, though he knew he ought not to be surprised.
Mr. Elijah Decker was a man of cunning and grit, and he had built his empire upon both. Gabe was once more grateful Helena possessed such good friends. But here was a reminder of the fact that she had not come to him, her husband. Instead, she had sought the aid of others.
“They did,” Helena confirmed, grinning. “Lady Beatrice was not impressed with the notion of her actions spreading all over London. I do believe her days of meddling and consorting with Lord Algernon are decidedly over.”
“They had better be, or she will answer to me,” he growled, a protective surge for his beautiful wife hitting him.
Helena clasped his hand, holding it to her cheek. “Thank you for wanting to defend me.”
“You need not thank me for that, Helena.” He frowned at her. “I also paid a call upon Lord Algernon, and I can assure you he will never trouble you again without fear of further retribution. I am your husband, and shielding you from all harm is my duty.”
The moment the word left his lips, he regretted it, but it was too late.
Helena released his hand and took a step away from him. “Of course. Shall we travel home separately, my lord? I left in such a hurry that I neglected to ask that my carriage be brought round.”
He hated the distance she had put between them. Hated too the conflicting emotions inside himself. But there was one thing he knew for certain—he was not about to send his wife home in a separate carriage.
“We shall go together in the brougham.” He offered her his arm. “I will see that the other carriage is notified.”
