“What?” Helen’s pulse quickened. These days, he rarely spoke to her without Sebastian being present. “Are you certain?” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her thundering heart.
She felt his presence keenly before he said, “Miss Langley.”
A shiver rippled down her spine, but she straightened and turned to face the man she had loved for seven years.
“Mr St Clair. Good evening.” Her tone conveyed a respectable politeness so opposed to the wild rush of panic racing through her veins. “Sebastian said we might see you this evening. He has gone to fetch lemonade.” She gestured to Mina. “You know Miss Ferrington, of course.”
He inclined his head, and she caught a hint of his musk and amber cologne. The fragrance evoked thoughts of a confident, deeply sensual man. No, Nicholas would never smell of cow dung. He would never smell anything but divine.
Offering a playful grin, he peered around the Grecian urn. “Where are your friends tonight? Typically, there are four of you clinging to the walls like ivy.”
Yes, disgraced women found safety in numbers.
“Miss Ware and Miss MacTavish had a prior engagement.” It was a small lie. After hearing the fortune-teller’s prediction, Lillian wished to avoid the Duke of Dounreay. “Something to do with the Archeological Association’s quarterly meeting.”
He pursed his lips, and her heart wept a little for never knowing their taste. “Yet you’re more interested in the study of horticulture than digging up old relics.” He referred to the reason she remained near the potted plants.
“Those named in theScandal Sheetare considered tainted. Like lepers, we must distance ourselves from the hypocrites who hide behind masks of morality.”
She laughed.
He did not.
His tight mouth revealed his displeasure. “Let us pray Mr Parbrook remains in France. Sebastian will kill him if he dares show his face in town again.” He firmed his jaw and looked ready to throttle the scoundrel, too.
Her heart sank to her stomach at the memory of that fateful night three months ago. Nicholas had been quiet and subdued at the Hamptons’ soiree. Upon leaving the ladies’ retiring room, she had seen him disappear down a dark corridor. The urge to follow had trampled over the logical part of her brain.
Who knew Mr Parbrook was on the hunt that night?
Who knew he needed a bride with a sizeable dowry?
And yet it wasn’t the stain on her reputation that kept her awake until dawn. It was the image of Nicholas standing still in the doorway, assuming she had arranged an assignation.
“It was a misunderstanding, nothing more,” she said, knowing he did not believe her excuse that she had needed a moment away from the stuffy ballroom. She could hardly admit to stalking him.
Those magnificent blue eyes met hers briefly, and she felt the usual jolt in the pit of her stomach. “I credit you with more sense than to take a man like Parbrook as a husband.”
More sense?
She had lost her wits in a field seven years ago.
“If I marry, it will be for love, not because a rogue tried to force my hand.” And so she was destined to spend her life alone. The only consolation being Nicholas had vowed never to wed.
Life could be worse. She might have suffered Mina’s fate. Jilted by her betrothed, who escaped reproach by spreading lies she was less than chaste. Her wastrel brother had done nothing to quell the rumours, and to Mina’s horror, the story had appeared in theScandal Sheet.
Sebastian arrived to hand them their lemonade. “Sorry I took so long. I met Camberley in the queue, and he quizzed me about the North York mining investment.” Then he mentioned he had asked Nicholas to join them, which explained why a man who could dance with any woman in the room stood near the potted ferns.
“Camberley is having doubts?” Nicholas asked.
Sebastian gave his friend a knowing look. “When you failed to attend the meeting, Camberley feared you had withdrawn your pledge.”
She caught a flicker of something strange in Nicholas’ eyes. Like the night at the Hamptons’ soiree, he seemed tired and troubled. Mostly, he was so calm and composed.
“I trust you reassured him,” he said, giving no reason for his absence or the sudden lapse in confidence.
“Of course.” Sebastian patted his friend playfully on the arm. “Let’s not bore the ladies with matters of business. I’m sure they find gentlemen’s talk rather dull and seek more frivolous entertainment.”
Helen suppressed a snort. Sebastian thought the Thursday night gathering with her friends amounted to them drooling over an issue ofLa Belle Assemblee. She always kept her ribbon basket to hand, just in case he appeared. Instead, they discussed unsuitable subjects. Hence how she knew what happened between a man and a woman in bed.