Page 28 of The Lady Tempts an Heir
The proof of his support settled within her like hotchocolate on a cold winter morning. She did her best not to savor it, but that was impossible.
“Do you really believe that your father will come around so easily?” August asked, raising a skeptical brow.
“Papa has been after me to entertain the idea of another marriage for a while now. I do believe this will help. There’s also the issue of it being somewhat unsavory for a single woman to support women who some believe have questionable moral character. Mr.... um, Maxwell will serve as a buffer temporarily. Once things are up and running, and we call off the arrangement, it will be too late because everyone will see how well the charity is working.”
The room was silent for a moment too long. Sweat prickled the back of her neck. Taking a linen napkin from the table, she discreetly patted her mouth. She felt as if she were under interrogation and losing the battle with the truth, though she couldn’t understand why. Everything she had just said was entirely accurate. No one had to know that she had secretly, at some point, developed an interest in Maxwell that went beyond the rules of their ploy. Not even twenty-four hours later and she was already on the edge of failing.
“I suppose that makes sense.” August picked up a biscuit and took a bite as she continued to turn the issue over in her mind.
Violet looked pensive, but also a bit sad. “I know it was no secret that I wanted you two to... well, you know... but for some reason this makes it seem even less likely to happen.”
“It was never going to happen, Violet.” Maxwell’s voice was flat, making him sound bored.
Helena tried not to let his words hurt her, but they did. “It simply doesn’t make sense, dear. We live in two separate worlds.” Maxwell straightened a bit, prompting Helena to add, “He wouldn’t want to move to London, and I’m afraidI’m in no position to leave,” lest there be some mistake in what worlds she meant.
“That brings up an interesting point,” August said. “What of your father, Helena? I know that you want him to come around with your charity, but I daresay Lord Farthington will not want Maxwell as a son-in-law. I’m certain he’d want a titled noble for you. This could all backfire if he can’t be persuaded.”
“I have made it known that if I do marry again, I will choose my own husband. He has had years to come to terms with this, and I would never select a titled gentleman.” They all seemed to look at her in question about this, so she hurried onward so she wouldn’t have to answer them. “I don’t anticipate a problem.”
The conversation continued for some time after. August or Violet would volley questions, and she or Max would answer them. By the time Helena walked the sisters to the door later, she was convinced that they might actually be able to pull this off. It was only when the door closed behind them and she turned to see Maxwell waiting for her in the doorway of the drawing room that her earlier doubts began to resurface.
Huxley quietly removed himself from the entry hall as she walked toward Maxwell.
He watched her intently the whole way. His gaze sweeping over her features and lingering on her mouth before coming back up to her eyes. “It was right to tell them,” he said when she came to a stop before him. “Thank you for suggesting it.”
“I’m glad we were able to convince them without having to tell the whole thing. If August ever suspected...” She drifted off, unable to finish that.
He gave her a nod of understanding. “You really do care for them, don’t you?”
“Yes, they’re almost like my own sisters.” Only that was too close to the trick they were playing, and it reminded herof how she had behaved last night. Her entire body felt as if it were flushing in humiliation, though her face burned the brightest. “I want to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have...” But she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. To acknowledge the kiss out loud seemed to be a sort of sacrilege.
“Don’t, Helena. You have nothing to apologize for.” And just that quickly his eyes seemed to darken as they settled on her mouth briefly. “I liked it.” There was no hint of a smile on his lips or in his gaze as it met hers. The fire that always burned beneath the surface of their exchanges began to crackle, making itself known. It felt as if an electric current had come to life, buzzing between and around them.
“You liked it, too.” There was that hint of a smile around his lips.
She opened her mouth to refute the statement even though it was true. Her first instinct always seemed to be to counter him, but what if she didn’t? What if she acknowledged the heat between them? Then he might kiss her.
She shouldn’t kiss him again. It would be foolish in the extreme, but already she wanted to feel his mouth on hers, and this time she wanted to touch her tongue to his, to taste him, to know what it was like to have some small part of him inside her.
Huxley cleared his throat from where he stood near the base of the stairs, and she realized she had been leaning toward Maxwell. The butler had returned with Maxwell’s coat and held it ready for him to slip it on. Maxwell didn’t seem very affected by her lapse in decorum. He moved around her and allowed Huxley to help him into the coat. How had she been thinking of kisses while Huxley was so near?
“Will you be available for the theater tomorrow evening?” His voice was bland and formal.
She had to fight to find her voice. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
He gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Good afternoon, Helena.” And with that, he left, but not before she caught the wicked gleam in his eyes as he turned away.
This was all part of the plan, she told herself. There was no reason to look forward to seeing him tomorrow or to even be particularly concerned about what she would wear. But she was too busy cataloging her wardrobe in her mind to listen to good sense.
Chapter 10
There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.
Oscar Wilde
Max had seen Helena twice over the course of the next week. They were never completely alone on those outings. August and Evan had accompanied them to a dinner, while Violet and Christian had attended the ballet with them. They had been seen together enough times to start people talking about them.
Even he had seen a few of the mentions in the papers. Mother had helped this along in her unadulterated joy at their supposed mutual interest. Just this morning she had spent a considerable amount of time at breakfast delighting over how often their names were mentioned together in various gossip sheets. One brave speculator had even wondered if there might be a wedding announcement in time for Christmas—a conjecture that was so on the mark Max wondered if they had overplayed their hand. Perhaps they should take a break for a week to whet the appetites of the gossipmongers.
