Page 86 of The Haunted Duke

“Helena, I am so sorry I let this happen to you.”

“Your secrets almost got us killed!” she snapped, her green eyes shining with hurt. “My father told me of the letters he sent you. Threatening you for weeks! Why did you hide this from me?”

Guilt made Evander grimace.

“I wanted to protect you,” he rasped, his emotions and the smoke lingering in his lungs making him hoarse.

“That is always your answer,” she said, shaking her head. “But keeping me in the dark about such things very clearly did not protect me!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking on the last word. “I nearly burned alive, Evander. I nearly lost you too.”

“I know,” he said quietly, and he did know it, felt it settle into him like another scar. “I was a fool. I told myself I was sparing you the worry. All I did was leave you unprepared for the one thing that could have gotten you killed.”

Helena’s chin trembled, though her eyes stayed hard on his.

Then, to his surprise, she rushed at him, grabbing him by the lapels and yanking him down so she could smash her lips against his. At once he was lost in the kiss, and picked her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. There was anger in her kiss, but he accepted it, taking it gladly as their lips and teeth and tongues clashed passionately against one another.

Then she wrenched her head back, and the fierceness in her gaze rivaled that of his own demons.

“Do not ever keep secrets from me again. Do you understand?” she demanded.

“I swear it,” he panted, then pushed her head back toward his for another possessive kiss. “I swear it,” he said between kisses, drinking in her wrath and love as if it were the sweetest wine. “No more secrets.”

This time, as their kiss ended, it was tender. He bowed his head in submission to Helena as her soft touch traced down his ash-streaked face, over the burns in his ruined shirt, to the scars that lay beneath, no longer afraid that he would scare her away.

“Now take me home. I wish to bathe with my husband.”

Epilogue

One Week Later

“It is a boy!” Damien crowed.

Just this morning, a footman had hurriedly pounded on their door, breathless with the news that Caroline’s labor had begun, and Evander and Helena dressed so quickly that Helena’s hair was still half-pinned when their carriage reached Damien and Caroline’s townhouse.

As Helena and Evander stood hand in hand in the foyer, they both smiled as Damien approached them with open arms. Both lifted their free arms and accepted the usually stoic man’s warm embrace.

“Congratulations!” Helena cooed as Damien stepped back. “Where are they? I wish to see them!”

“Come, sister!” Elara called before Damien could answer. They looked beyond Damien’s shoulders and found Elara, grinning and giddy, bouncing on her feet midway up the stairs. “Come, come, you must see! The baby is perfect!”

“And Caroline?” Helena asked, already hurrying toward her sister-in-law.

“She is perfect as well,” Damien said, his pride obvious in his deep voice. “Exhausted, but perfect. Go up. She would love to see you.”

Evander watched as his wife and little sister joined hands and hurried up the elegant gold-and-marble staircase, a smile stretching so wide across his face that his cheeks hurt.

“Congratulations, old man,” Evander offered, turning to Damien after a moment.

Damien pulled two cigars from his inner jacket pocket and extended one to Evander. Just as he was about to take it, a hand shot between them and swiped it up. With a raised, bemused brow, he turned and found Adrian grinning as he popped the cigar between his teeth.

“Too slow, old boy,” Adrian teased, talking around the cigar.

“Where did you come from?” Evander asked.

Damien grunted as he reached into his pocket once more and drew out a third cigar.

“Like a stray cat, that one,” Damien muttered. “He lets himself in whenever he pleases. Little George and Caroline find it amusing, but I have yet to decide so.”

“You love it,” Adrian said around his cigar as he winked. “You just will not admit to it.”