She glowered back. “I won’t go.”
He flinched as though she’d hit him. “Have you no pride?”
It was her turn for an unamused laugh. “Of course. Too much.” She shot him a straight look. “But unlike you, I’m not stupid with pride.”
His expression turned shifty, which bolstered her optimism that she was on the right track. “You’re talking utter rubbish.”
She folded her gloved hands in her lap and fixed him with an unwavering regard. “No, you are. You should know me by now, West. I’m steadfast and true. For pity’s sake, I remained faithful to that swine Crewe. Now I’ve chosen you, and I won’t be fobbed off.” Impatience roughened her tone. “As if your illness makes a shred of difference to my affection.”
More than affection. But while she was brave, she wasn’t brave enough to set her whole heart out before him. Not when she still wasn’t sure whether he meant to surrender, or crush all her chances of happiness. And all his chances, too, the stiff-necked wretch.
A long, prickling silence extended.
Suspense tightened her belly until bile rose in her throat. Was she wrong? Had she pushed him too far?
Then he dragged in a shuddering breath. He slumped as the resistance drained out of him. And with it, the rage-fueled vigor.
Relief flooded her, and she leaped to her feet, helping him back to the bench. “Should I fetch someone?”
“A keeper to take you away and lock you up,” he said, although the words lacked venom. He leaned against her, heavy and trembling and dear.
She wasn’t complaining. At least they’d bridged the cruel distance. She turned her head to kiss the ruffled dark hair. “Make your heroic declaration of self-denial. Then I can argue it away, and we can get on with the rest of our lives.”
Despite physical discomfort, a grunt of laughter escaped him. “You’re bloody sure of yourself.”
“That’s your fault.” Her embrace tightened. “You make me feel like a goddess.”
“I should have been more careful,” he muttered, but his arm snaked around her waist to draw her closer. “It’s all very well to sound so confident. I saw doctors in Russia, and again in L
ondon. These fevers could go on for the rest of my life. There’s no cure. I might get better, but it’s quite possible I won’t.”
She’d been right about what troubled him. Relief made her dizzy, but she stiffened her shoulders against any weakness. The fight wasn’t over yet. “So like a gallant fool, you decided to fall on your sword, and throw me to the wolves for good measure?”
He shifted to level somber green eyes on her. “You deserve my best.”
Heaven save her from stubborn masculine pride. “And it didn’t occur to you to share these ramshackle ideas?”
“I know your stalwart soul, Helena. I’ve known it all my life. You’d insist on standing by me.”
“Now who’s sure of himself?”
“I know you’ve…become attached. It seemed easier to let you go back to thinking I’m a worthless cad.”
“Easier for whom?”
“Hating me helped you cope with Crewe’s betrayals. I thought it might help again this time.” Obstinacy squared his jaw. She realized with a sinking feeling that she hadn’t won yet, although victory hovered close. “I can’t bear to be a burden on you.”
“So your vanity is more important than my happiness?”
“Vanity?” he snapped, sounding much more like himself.
Fear that even now, she still might fail, added an edge to her voice. A wonderful future opened up before them. She could see that so clearly. Why in Hades couldn’t he?
“Yes. Vanity. I don’t care if you’re ill—oh, that’s not right, of course I care—but it doesn’t change my feelings. In the past days, you’ve brought me alive. Surely you know that.” Tears stung her eyes, and this time she didn’t force them back. “For heaven’s sake, West, don’t let your conceit shut me away in the dark.”
“I was right—you do intend to stand by me. Blast you, I won’t have it. I won’t tie you to a wreck of a man.”
“You’re not a wreck of a man.” A tear trickled down her cheek. How things had changed. Once he’d been so certain, and she’d been the one to hold out. “You’re everything I want.”