His eyes were glinting now like emeralds and Helena felt a sense of victory. “Even disappointment was better than ignorance?”
“Yes! And I met Mrs. D., which I cannot regret.” At his blank look, she continued. “She was in the coach with her daughter, the wife of a solicitor in Carting Corners.” He nodded that he knew the town. “So, I cannot wish to have foregone the adventure, not in the least.” Once again, he seemed disinclined to speak, so she continued. “And learning of your former reputation in London, sir, I had to wonder whether you regret that interval, or whether we agree in the merit of pursuing opportunity?”
“It is unwise to overindulge in temptations,” he said softly.
“Of course.”
He studied her for a long moment, as if he would read every one of her secrets. Then he turned away, sobering, and she liked that he gave serious consideration to her question. “You remind me of childhood tales, Miss Emerson, in which there is always an admonition to remain on the path when travelling through the forest. The warnings insist that leaving the path might offer adventure, those adventures will certainly include peril.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a nod. “And that is the conundrum. Is it better to remain safe or to learn the truth?”
“I wager I know your reply, Miss Emerson, which is the choice of every character in every recounted tale. But I must remind you that your own adventure, as you call it, might have ended very badly for you indeed.”
Helena sighed. “So, my brother’s wife has informed me repeatedly.”
“And Mrs. Emerson is right in that.” He leaned closer to make his point. “Your view is understandable, but short-sighted, Miss Emerson, for you might gain an experience you are unable to forget—or worse.”
“I do not understand,” Helen said, although she did.
“You might have been abandoned by your suitor, left without resources, and not had the fortune to meet one such as this Mrs. D. You might have been despoiled by your suitor and left in shame.” His eyes flashed at this very notion and Helena could not avert her gaze. His lips hardened to a thin line. “You might have died, Miss Emerson, which could hardly have been an outcome to be desired.” He lifted one brow. “I may assure you that many might have regretted that result.”
Did he count himself among such company?
Curiously, Helena found herself wishing that he might.
“It is certainly wiser to be prudent,” Helena ceded carefully. “But I should hate to lie on my deathbed, wondering at all I had missed by such caution.”
“It might be prudent for a lady so inclined to pursue adventure to have a protector, Miss Emerson.”
Helena looked up. “A protector?”
“Someone to watch over her and guarantee her safety.”
Helena wrinkled her nose. “A husband, you mean.”
“Or a guardian angel, though it would be simpler to ensure the attention of a husband.”
Had he made a jest? Helena studied him, uncertain.
“Marriageisa solution found satisfactory by many.” He stood then, once again indicating that he would leave. He hesitated a moment and his voice dropped low. “I wonder also, Miss Emerson, if you will ever be content with what you possess, or always be yearning for some prize you perceive on the horizon.”
Helena was chastised, for there was truth in his words. “I would have made you a poor wife, Lord Addersley.”
“That is one of the things we shall never know, Miss Emerson,” he said so lightly that it could not have truly mattered to him. “I suppose the greater question is whether you might ever regret your choice.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Of course.” His smile was thin and polite, a pale shadow of the unbidden one that showed his dimple. “It would have been churlish for me to make such an offer otherwise.”
Helena thought of her flight to the forest and subsequent rescue by her champion, of the incendiary kiss that stranger had given her, and flushed to her very toes. The viscount was so still that he might have been reading her guilty thoughts.
No, she could never regret any choice that had led her to her savior.
Could she convince that mysterious man to become her protector?
The viscount turned away crisply, as if he knew her interest had strayed to another man.
Helena did not wish him to be insulted and asked the first question that rose to her lips. “But what of your own time in London, sir? Do you regret that interval?”
