been a substantial dowry and marriage to a second or third son from a prominent family.
If matters had progressed as they ought, she might have had children already, and in recent months, the fact that she didn’t, the thought of what might have been, was weighing heavily.
Up on the verandah—to her surprise—Westwood stepped outside. He strolled to the balustrade and peered across the yard. Helen was far away and hidden by the shadows, but he seemed to be gazing right at her.
Like a silly, besotted girl, her pulse raced as she wondered if he’d come out specifically to find her. What if he had? What did it mean? What would he do? What should she do?
As if he sensed her location, he walked down into the garden and headed directly toward her. Shortly, he appeared on the path.
They stared silently, both knowing it was dangerous for him to be there, but neither wanting to be the one to say so.
“Why are you out here all alone?” he inquired.
“I just needed some time by myself.”
“I looked around, and I didn’t see you. I was worried.”
“I’m fine.”
At his statement, her heart pounded again. He shouldn’t have been thinking about her at all. He shouldn’t have been watching her, shouldn’t have noted that she’d sneaked away. But he had, and at having his fondness so blatantly revealed, she couldn’t fight the surge of happiness that swept through her.
“The dancing started,” he pointed out.
“I can hear the music. It sounds lovely.”
“I was going to ask you.”
“To dance?”
“Yes.
She scoffed. “You couldn’t have.”
“Why not?”
“I’m your ward’s companion. People would have been scandalized.”
“How many times must I tell you that it’s my house, and I can act however I please?”
“I believe I’ve mentioned this before: You are mad.”
He grinned. “You wore the dress.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re very beautiful in it—as beautiful as I knew you would be when I picked it out.”
“Thank you.”
It was another indication of his elevated interest, and she couldn’t picture him with a seamstress, discussing fabrics and styles. Why had he noticed her? Why had he singled her out?
He was a rich, unwed earl. He could have any woman in the world. Why would he want her? It was too bizarre to be true.
He held out his hand, and she gaped, but didn’t take it.
“Dance with me,” he said.
“Out here?”
“Yes. You’re so concerned about prying eyes, and we’re all alone. There’s no one to see.”
She gazed about, knowing that he was correct and they had the large garden all to themselves. But still, the prospect of discovery panicked her. Then he smiled, his expression warm and tender, and in an instant, her reservations evaporated.
She placed her hand in his, and he drew her to her feet and snuggled her to his chest. The music playing inside was fast and merry, but they moved to a different rhythm, slowly swaying back and forth.
“I haven’t seen you in days,” he murmured. “It seems like an eternity.”
“Where have you been? I was afraid that you were...were...angry with me.”
“With you? Why would I be?”
“You asked me to be your mistress, and I refused.”
“I hate it when people tell me no .”
“I know that.”
“I have to admit that you often infuriate me.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I realize that, but you infuriate me anyway. It’s what I relish about your company.”
“It is?”
“Yes. I’ve never met anyone with your gall or temerity.”
“I’m fairly harmless.” “Not to me, so I’ve been trying to stay away from you.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t control myself. I thought it best to put some distance between us.”
“But you came back.” She was so relieved that her knees were weak.
“Yes, I did.”
“I’m glad.”
“You, my dear, make it impossible to behave as I ought.”
”Why is that, do you suppose?”
“I haven’t any idea, but it’s silly to keep fighting
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