She leaned farther, encircling his neck with her hands. “Is she concerned?”
“Who?” Declan’s voice cracked.
“Meg.”
“No,” he said flatly. “She’s confused. But not as confused as I am.”
Helena laughed, pressing her forehead to his, a quick nuzzle, and then slid away. She circled the chair to sit down in his lap.
Declan jumped as if something had bitten him.
She ignored this and shimmied deeper into his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed her palm on his chest. Did Lusk’s women drape themselves across him? Helena couldn’t say. But if she had the freedom to be playful and affectionate with Declan, she would sit in his lap. She’d wanted to be in Declan’s arms since they’d left the market. Helena’s longing was real and urgent and ever present. Miss Keep would have to pretend all of these.
She told the other woman, “You hold eye contact for prolonged periods of time.”
Helena gazed up at Declan. He stared back as if she’d burst into flames.
Miss Keep scribbled more.
“And you laugh at everything he says,” Helena added.
“My lady...?” Declan rasped. His voice was a warning.
Helena frowned. “Obviously, it would be difficult to laugh at something likemy lady, but can you see what I mean?”
She slumped a little in his arms, happy, in spite of herself, to be so near to him. “You ruffle his hair. You say things that are funny and spirited. You suggest that the two of you embark on outings or adventures that are provocative or unorthodox. Like... ice skating at night. Or swimming in winter.”
Now Helena was simply guessing.
She glanced at Miss Keep, and the other woman stared back with a look of applied absorption, forcing herself to understand. Beneath it all was a pale, tight panic. It was as if she’d just learned that her hospital was on the other side of a deep canyon, and all she had to do was flap her wings and fly to it.
“And this is howyoulanded the duke?” Miss Keep asked. “In the beginning?”
Now Helena laughed. “Good God, no. My parents arranged the betrothal. Lusk and I cannot abide each other. I could not fake a flirtation with him if my life depended on it. Nor would I want to. And honestly, Miss Keep? I’m not certain you could either. I... I’m not certain you are the correct girl for this proposition.”
Helena climbed from Declan’s lap and dusted her hands together. Declan shoved from the chair.
“If I was a duchess,” Miss Keep ventured, “I would be so much closer to realizing the work of my life.” The words sounded forced. Her face was pinched with reluctance. She studied her notes, looking at the words like the recipe for poison.
“Wanting to beaduchess will not be the same as becoming theDuchess of Lusk,” said Helena. “You’re a smart woman, clearly, and your aspirations are not merely noble, they are necessary. The world needs more doctors of every stripe. Who knows what you might accomplish all on your own? Quite a lot, I predict. And without having to sell your soul to the Girdleston family to do it.”
“I... I am so impatient for opportunities,” Miss Keep said.
“I believe you,” said Helena, “and I am sorry. But this was less of an opportunity, and more of a... terrible trade. I don’t believe it is the best trade for you. Will you forgive me for wasting your time? I... I had to be certain.”
Miss Keep closed her eyes, looked at the floor, and nodded.
As Helena and Declan made their way to the door, Miss Keep made assurances that she would not tell a soul that Helena Lark was in the clinic for any other reason than stomach distress.
Helena believed her, and she overwhelmed her with thanks and well wishes. At the last minute, Helena suggested that she might call on one Lady Moira Ashington to inquire about a consultation. If the girl was buying herbal remedies in Wandsworth, clearly she was open to alternative treatments. Even, perhaps, a young woman doctor.
When she said her final good-bye, Declan was already in the street. Helena collected a confused Meg and embarked upon the waiting carriage, her heart heavy.
When they reached the carriage steps, Declan was shaking his head.
“What was that?” he growled.
“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” And shewassorry. She’d been reckless with their plan and precipitous with Miss Keep’s rejection. The interviews were rife with anxiety and complications. The margin of error was significant.
