Page 27 of The Lady Tempts an Heir
“What did he say?”
“His letter was short. He merely conveyed his thanks in my contacting him. He says that he will look over the proposal that I sent, and he is currently entertaining several offers.”
“Several offers? Oh no, this will not do.” Violet rose and began pacing. “That sort of interest will drive the price higher.”
Helena sighed. That was precisely her fear. Multiple parties could only mean that they would all eventually end up bidding against one another. She could not waste the charity’s limited resources by expending them on the purchase price alone, not with the refurbishments needed, which meant it was very likely that they would lose the priory. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re correct. I sent a letter in reply all but begging for a chance to meet him in person and plead our case. Obviously, I haven’t heard back yet, but I’ll let you know the moment I do.”
“I hope he will at least hear you out. I’ll have Christian contact him as well. He mentioned that he had met Sir Phineas some years ago and offered to speak to him. Perhaps with Christian’s support, he can be persuaded to acquiesce.”
“Thank you, Violet. That would be most helpful.” She didn’t hold out much hope of it swaying the gentleman, however.
Violet nodded. “You know how much this charity is coming to mean to me. I could do nothing less.”
The sound of the front door opening had Helena on her feet again. Butterflies swirled in her belly as she heardMaxwell’s deep voice. A moment later, he and August appeared in the doorway. Helena was reminded of the first time she had seen him in that very spot, and all of her impressions from that day came back—his impressive height and breadth, the force of his sheer presence—only now she knew what it was like to feel his lips on hers.
His gaze met hers, and the power of it nearly sent her sinking back down to the settee. The intensity and the way it drifted quickly down to her mouth before he looked at Violet was the only acknowledgment from him that the kiss had happened. If a simple kiss that hadn’t even been particularly long or deep could do this to her, what would making love to him be like? She admonished herself as soon as the thought crossed her mind, but it was far too late to stop the heat rising in her face.
“August.” She forced herself to greet them in turn. “Mr. Crenshaw. It’s so good of you both to come on short notice.”
“I must say that my insatiable curiosity would have had me here sooner if your note hadn’t specified four o’clock,” August said.
Mrs. Huxley walked in with a tea tray followed a moment later by Huxley, who carried another tray laden with sandwiches, small cakes, and petits fours. They all settled themselves as Helena poured the tea. It wasn’t until the servants left them alone that Helena took a sip of hers and cleared her throat, trying and failing to dissolve the lump that had grown there. Why was it so difficult to come forward with what they were doing?
She didn’t know, but Maxwell seemed to understand her reticence, because he gave her an almost imperceptible nod from his chair opposite her. Shifting toward his sisters on the settee, he said, “I’m certain you both noticed that Lady Helena and I danced a few waltzes last night.”
“Is that what they’re calling kissing in the conservatory now?” Violet muttered from behind her cup.
Maxwell’s eyes narrowed at his sister in displeasure, hisbrows coming together in that fierce scowl that was absurdly attractive, and a bolt of desire shot right through Helena. Her lips parted in a gasp that she managed to silence at the last moment, as heat roiled inside her, turning her molten. She shifted, drawing Maxwell’s smoldering attention, which did nothing for the heady dose of lust she was battling.
“We... um... that is to say we spoke in the conservatory, but nothing happened, whatever you may have heard.” She could not admit to kissing him. She had barely managed to admit it to herself; she would not discuss it in front of his sisters.
Maxwell stared at her, and for one terrifying moment she thought he meant to betray their secret, but he lowered his eyes, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he said, “Lady Helena and I have decided to pretend a flirtation.”
“Pretend?” August piped up. Apparently, even she had thought it had been real last night.
But could Helena blame her for the mistake? She herself had got so caught up in the game that she had kissed him. It was mortifying! She had to do a better job at keeping her attraction to him under control. He wanted children, children she could not give him,andhe lived in New York. This would not do at all.
“Yes,” Maxwell saved her by answering. “Papa wants me involved with someone by the end of the year, and it seems expedient to let him believe that Lady Helena and I have developed a relationship.”
“But why?” August shook her head. “Why must he be led to believe anything? He wants you married, but you are your own man, Max. He’d hardly be able to force a marriage on you.”
“That is true, but he could make things unpleasant if he believes I’m not proceeding down that path. We never thought he and Mother would force both of you into marriage, but here we are. With his health as precarious as it is,I believe it is better, easier, to play along for a while until he recovers.”
August pursed her lips in thought, and Helena could almost hear the gears churning in her head as she tried to poke holes in her brother’s logic. She was too inquisitive for this sort of subterfuge, but they could not come out and tell her of the awful ultimatum her father had delivered.
“This seems extreme,” Violet said into the silence. “To what extent will this go on?”
Maxwell cleared his throat. “Well, before I leave for New York, I’ll propose, and Helena will accept. Once Papa is better, likely by spring, we’ll call the whole thing off.”
Neither of the sisters appeared convinced.
“Let me see if I understand this,” August said. “You’ll court Helena, and convince all of her friends and family that you are in love, and then you’ll call it off in a few months?”
Put like that, she did make it sound radical.
The moment Maxwell opened his mouth to reply, Helena took over, positive that if given half the chance he would explain his theory ofwantversusloveand she would be a puddle of mortified jelly by the time he finished. “Yes, that is what your brother means, but that isn’t precisely the whole story. You see—and Violet might have already explained to you—the London Home for Young Women is in trouble. My father, bless him, has made it known that he doesn’t entirely approve of the endeavor and some... well, several...most”—she winced at the truth of the word—“of our donors have decided that now is not the time to give to such a cause. It is my belief that with a strong male figure at my side lending his support, my father will come around and his friends will come with him.”
“I’m certain I could persuade a few donors on my own, as well,” Max added, his voice firm and deliberate.
