She shot him a skeptical look. “If you say so.”
He put on a theatrically innocent look. “I was lonely in Russia. You can’t blame me for pondering…natural matters.”
A huff of ironic laughter. “I’ve reached the conclusion that you think about natural matters most of the time.”
He caught her close for a quick kiss, an explicit promise of more to come. “A man needs a hobby.”
Helena caught his hand, and they ascended the stairs together. “Do you remember we used to come here that summer before you went to Oxford?”
“I do. Those are among my most precious memories.”
She frowned as they stepped through the tall door. “I’m su
re that’s not true. We were very innocent.”
“That was part of the charm.” He smiled with that singular sweetness that she found increasingly difficult to withstand. A sweetness he seemed to direct at her alone.
She tore her gaze from his face, if only to hide how close she came to giving him everything he asked. And released a gasp of delight. “West, this is magical.”
The marble summerhouse wasn’t designed for February days, even fine ones like today. But he’d set braziers around a circular table covered in cream silk. Savory scents rose from porcelain dishes, and a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket.
West helped her remove her vermillion riding jacket. Another light kiss, before he stepped away to lift the champagne bottle. “I’m glad you approve.”
Helena shifted closer to the table, battling the urge to cry, silly as it was. “You took such pains.”
His eyes were disconcertingly perceptive. “I ordered a few servants around. They were glad of the occupation. With Silas and Caro so wrapped up in each other, they’re at a loose end.”
“No, you devoted real thought to this.” Her voice was husky.
“Perhaps a moment or two. And don’t worry—I told the staff I wanted to give you a treat before I took you over to my stables. I made everything sound aboveboard.”
Pleasure and surprise vanquished reticence. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
His smile was tender. “That’s a crime. A woman like you should have swains scattering roses in front of her wherever she goes.”
She gave a cracked laugh. “That doesn’t sound very practical.” She took in the massed flowers adorning the table and set in vases around the room. “Anyway, I prefer lilies.”
The champagne cork popped, and he filled two crystal glasses. “You always did.”
He’d remembered her favorite flower? She’d thought this morning’s lily was just a happy accident. God in heaven, she was in dire trouble. If he hadn’t gone to such effort—and if she wasn’t completely under his spell—she’d take to her heels.
She swallowed and tried to sound relaxed and amused. But the hand she curled around her glass trembled. “I hope you left a few flowers. There’s a wedding next week.”
West raised his glass to her, and while his tone was cheerful, something momentous swam in his eyes. “One or two. Caro won’t lack for a bouquet.”
“No lilies, though.” The champagne was cold and crisp on her tongue, and did nothing to combat her giddiness.
He pulled out a chair for her. “There’s plenty of other flowers.”
Helena sat, unfolded her damask napkin, and placed it across her lap. “One of the benefits of marrying a botanist is that Caro will never lack for floral tributes.”
West dropped a kiss on her shoulder, making her shiver with anticipation. So far, his caresses had remained circumspect, but the promise of pleasure hummed around them. This meeting in the temple would have a very different end from those clandestine encounters when she was sixteen.
“Nor should you.” He sat and caught the hand she’d laid on the table, bringing it to his lips. “Be happy, sweet Helena. Everything will work out one way or another.”
Chapter Ten
West leaned back from the table and raised a glass of excellent claret to his lips as he studied Helena. Right now, she didn’t look like the self-contained countess with the formidable brain, who had alternately awed and fascinated London society. Nor did she, thank God, look like the unhappy Lady Crewe who had held her head high through the shambles her repugnant husband had made of her life.