“Desperate,” she filled in when he could not.
His head dipped. “Yes, Helena. I was desperate. I thought I could hide in my chamber like some kind of petulant child. To drown my frustrations just this one time. It was churlish and wrong, but I knew I’d be no good company at the party. But when you came in—”
He cut himself off and Helena caught her breath. The pain slashed on his face was so real. “Baldwin,” she whispered.
“No, don’t offer me comfort,” he said, his tone hard. “I do not deserve it. You came to check on me, which was far more kindness than I deserve from you. I rewarded that kindness with markedly ungentlemanly behavior.”
Helena shook her head, but he held up a hand and looked like he would continue this self-berating indefinitely. But she could not let it stand. Not now. Not when her own thoughts on the matter were so different.
She stepped forward, uncertain what she could do to stop him from his self-recrimination. She touched his arm and it became clear. She lifted on her tiptoes, caught his cheeks in her palms and kissed him.
For a moment he was stiff, surprised, but then he softened and his arms came around her as he sighed against her lips in surrender. She deepened the kiss, tasting him for just a moment before she blushed and backed away.
He stared at her, but he did not return to talking.
“Stop,” she whispered. “Please.”
He sighed, ragged and pained. “But—”
“Please, won’t you let me speak?” she asked.
She could see him battling with her request. He clearly wanted to confess more. To berate himself further. To try to convince her that he deserved censure for those beautiful moments in his study.
But finally he nodded. “Yes, yes of course.”
“If the grass weren’t so wet, we could sit together,” she said, motioning to the lakeside.
His eyebrows lifted and then he strode off to his horse. He opened the saddlebag and removed a folded blanket, which he spread out before the lake.
“You are always prepared,” she said with a laugh as she took her place.
He shook his head. “Not me. I was meant to ride with Simon this morning, so my man put the blanket in, just in case we wished to stop and chat.”
“Well, I’m glad for it.” They settled onto the blanket and she drew a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong last night, Baldwin.”
His expression twisted with more of the guilt he carried around with him constantly. “You are a lady,” he insisted.
She sucked in a breath. “No, I’m not. Not by any standard that could be used to judge one such.”
He looked confused. “I don’t know what you could mean.”
She sighed. “You must recall last night. You were not so very drunk, Baldwin.”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I recall it and there is nothing that happened that would make me think you’re not a lady. Just that I am not a gentleman.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, and yet she could stop herself from what she was about to do. To say. She didn’t want to. Baldwin had already given so much of himself to her. The only way to comfort him that he was not a monster was to make him understand her own secrets.
“Do you recall when you said that someone had hurt me?” she pressed.
His eyes came shut and he made a low sound in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “You told me I was right, but I went forward anyway. If I’d been a little more sober—”
“You went forward because I wanted you to,” she insisted, catching his hands and forcing him to look at her. “You did not force anything on me. You told me again and again that I could say just a word and you would stop. I never said a word because I didn’t want that.”
“Still, what I did was wrong,” he said softly. “There is the topic of ruination—”
“Do you think you’re the only one with secrets, Baldwin?” she interrupted with a shake of her head. “You did not ruin me last night. Not just because you didn’t…you didn’t…take me. But because even if you had, you would not have been the first to do so.”
She watched his face change. He went pale and his expression tightened. Her heart broke as it did, for she knew what would happen next. The censure, the distancing, perhaps even the talk.
