“Helena,” he whispered, her name a prayer, a plea, a balm. “I’m so glad it’s you and not some other woman my mother is marching down from the main house for me.”
Helena shifted slightly. “Yes, I saw you with Lady Winifred. She is one of the…options then?”
Baldwin stared up at the house where the young woman and her mother had gone. “Yes,” he said softly. “She is, I suppose.”
“Well, she’s pretty,” Helena offered, her tone very careful.
He turned on her with a grin. “Are you now playing my matchmaker?”
She did not return the smile. “I think that would be too difficult.”
He nodded. “Yes. All of this is…difficult.”
“For both of us, I would imagine. You didn’t like her at all?”
Baldwin shrugged. “It isn’t about liking or not liking. She’s a nice enough young woman. I just don’t feel…anything when I’m with her.”
Helena swallowed hard. “I see.”
“Not like when I’m with you,” he murmured, and moved toward her a step.
She caught her breath and he saw her pupils dilate with desire. He loved to see that blossom in her, rather like the flowers Lady Winifred had been going on and on about.
“We’re so close to the house,” Helena whispered. “Anyone could see.”
“A valid point,” he said, and offered her an arm. “Walk with me? I’d much prefer your company.”
She looked like she would argue. Probably make a point that what they were doing was dangerous and wrong and not conducive to acceptance of the future either of them would soon face.
Instead, she sighed and said, “Of course. You know I couldn’t say no.”
She took his arm, and this time there was plenty for him to feel. Warmth and pleasure, desire and desperation. He was aware of every part of her that pressed to him, of the feel of each finger that curled into the crook of his elbow. He felt it all and he reveled in it.
“So what did you talk about?” she asked.
He glanced down at her as they began to walk farther into the garden, farther away from the house and whatever prying eyes there might see. “You really want to know?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Part of me does want to know. Part of me doesn’t. All of me is jealous and I hate myself for it.”
He shook his head. “You needn’t be jealous. Lady Winifred is quite a fan of flowers and all I heard about was roses, roses, roses for half an hour.”
She glanced up at him. “That’s all she could think of to say to you?”
“You sound incredulous. I may just bring out the dullest of subjects in people,” he said with a laugh that lightened everything about his mood.
He only felt that way with her, it seemed.
She smiled. “You may at that. I wouldn’t have picked that subject to talk to you about.”
“What subject would you have chosen?” he asked, and guided her into the covered gazebo.
She looked around with a blush, and he could see her mind turning. Working out the same problem he’d been pondering. Would they be safe enough here for a kiss? Nothing more, of course, there was too much danger. But could he kiss her?
She bit her lip as she released his arm and backed away. “My cousin told me she plans to pursue you.”
All of Baldwin’s happy, playful thoughts faded from his mind and he stared at Helena in horror. “Charity?”
“Yes, she is my only cousin who could pursue you, I think, since all the others are back in America,” she said, turning away to pace the gazebo. “She told me this morning after I returned from—from when you…”
