Chapter Sixteen
Normally Helena loved breakfast. She’d never been a picky eater, and Baldwin’s cook was talented in every way. But this morning, she found that everything before her tasted of sawdust and even the smells turned her stomach. But the reason had nothing to do with the quality of the food.
She glanced down the table and watched as Baldwin leaned toward one of the eligible misses who currently surrounded him. His prospects, as she knew he called them. The women from whom he would pick a bride. Including her cousin, despite all his arguments to the contrary.
And today he seemed determined to connect with those women. She wasn’t angry. Of course she understood. But oh, how it hurt to look at it. To see him talk with those women and know that one day he would touch one of them the same way he’d touched her.
“Miss Monroe, you do look lovely today.”
She jolted and turned to look at Baldwin’s mother. The Duchess of Sheffield had taken a place beside her a few moments earlier, but had been engaged in conversation with the Duchess of Abernathe until this moment. Now she smiled at Helena.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Helena said with a blush. Her dress was not as pretty or fancy as some of the other ladies’ gowns. By design, she supposed. Charity was very stingy about hand-me-downs. She generally only gave Helena the plainest items in her closet. Still, she liked the color, a happy blue with a spring-green overlay.
“My daughter and her friends speak so highly of you,” the duchess continued. “Charlotte has so enjoyed having you here.”
“Her Grace is very kind,” Helena said. “I very much enjoy spending time with her and the other duchesses.”
“Tell me more about yourself,” the Duchess of Sheffield pressed. “Charlotte says you are a great reader.”
“I do enjoy a good book, yes. To be taken away to a whole other world, to lose oneself for a few hours. It is my favorite thing.”
The duchess nodded. “I’ve always felt the same way. We will have to compare reading lists, as I am in the mood for something good.”
“Certainly,” Helena said. “I’d be happy to share. Actually, I finished a very good book on the trip out to Sheffield. My cousin is not a reader, so if you’d like it…”
The duchess gave her a warm smile. “That would be lovely, thank you.” She shifted slightly and her gaze moved to Baldwin. There was no mistaking the worry she felt. The pressure. All of Helena’s warm feelings faded as reality returned, as it always did.
“You are…concerned for your son?” she asked carefully.
The duchess looked at her slowly, one eyebrow arched. “Am I so obvious?”
Helena shrugged. “Only if one is observant.”
Now the duchess held her stare. “And you are when it comes to Baldwin, I think.”
Helena’s breath hitched. It seemed she wasn’t the only observant one. She thought they had been careful, but the shift in the Duchess of Sheffield’s demeanor told her it wasn’t careful enough.
“I’m a bit on the fringes, that is all, Your Grace,” she said. “I notice everyone.”
The duchess nodded, but her expression remained as focused as before. Helena had not diffused its intensity or understanding. “I’m a mother,” the duchess said slowly. “It is my prerogative to worry about my children. Charlotte is so happily settled now, so I’m afraid my concerns all shift to Baldwin.”
“I should not have pried,” Helena said softly. “I apologize.”
“No, it’s clear you are a…you’re a very good woman,” the duchess said. “No one could spend a moment with you and not like you. You seem to care for my children, as well, so I appreciate that.” She looked off at her son again. “Baldwin has responsibilities, Miss Monroe. Life is often not fair in that way, but it is what it is. We must accept. We must…we must accept it.”
Helena stared down at her plate, the food now turning her stomach even further. The duchess wasn’t just talking anymore. This was a statement directed at Helena. A gentle statement, yes. One kindly put, but it did its job nonetheless. She was discouraging Helena from a pursuit of Baldwin.
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. The discomfort of embarrassment. The faint resonance of loss. But she could not let those things show. As always, she had to pretend.
In fact, the only place where she didn’t have to pretend were in those stolen moments with the very man she had just been told could not be hers. And time was running out on what they could share.
Which made her desperate, indeed.
Baldwin stretched his back as he entered his chamber, where he actually smiled at his bed. What he wanted more than anything was to sleep off what had turned into very long day. He’d spent his entire afternoon with the prospects. His mother had made certain of that. She hadn’t even been particularly subtle about it.
And they were fine. They were all fine. Nothing truly wrong with a one of them, save perhaps Charity, who he didn’t like at all. The rest had one common issue. They weren’t Helena. Helena, who he kept looking for in every crowd. Helena, who had been kept just as busy as he had, by her wretched uncle and cousin. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought his mother and Helena’s family had coordinated their efforts to keep them apart.
Only his mother wouldn’t work in league with Peter Shephard. She had some standards, even in her desperation.
He moved to ring the bell and call his valet, but before he could do so, there was a rustling behind him. He turned and was shocked when Helena, herself, stepped from the shadows in the corner of his room.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide and her hands trembled at her sides as she whispered, “I—should I have come?”
He didn’t answer, not with words. He could find none when his emotions and his desires were swelling up inside of him. Instead, he crossed the room in a few long strides, gathered her against him and kissed her. She immediately softened, winding her arms around his neck, gasping when he caught her backside and drew her even closer.
“I have great hopes that this isn’t a dream,” he murmured against her lips.
She smiled. “It isn’t,” she reassured him as he began to kiss her neck. “But it isn’t quite reality, either.”
He drew back and looked down at her. So lovely and so perfect and yet so out of reach. He cleared his throat. “Then let’s celebrate the fantasy while we can. But first, a question.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“What about your cousin?”
“Charity is snoring in her bed, believing with every fiber of her being that I am asleep on the settee in her dressing room. She’s never been one to get up in the middle of the night, so we are safe in that regard.”
“Good,” he said, backing her toward his bed slowly. “Then I can keep you all night. Or nearly so.”
She shivered and he paused, forcing himself to recall her past, feeling the potential for fear and anxiety. He took a deep breath and leaned with her against the high edge of his bed.
“I want to make love to you, Helena,” he whispered. “I want that more than anything. But not if it causes you grief. So tell me, is that what you want?”
She didn’t hesitate, but nodded immediately. That put some ease into his heart. As did her words when she said, “All I can think about is you, Baldwin. It won’t last. It can’t. But I want tonight.”
“Good,” he said, and slid his hands to where her simple gown fastened in the front. He never broke her gaze as he slipped each button free. “But if you need me to stop or wait or go slowly, I want you to tell me. We have all night. And I want to make it perfect.”
Helena shuddered as Baldwin parted her gown and revealed the plain chemise beneath. His warm fingers slid beneath the fabric and slowly eased it from her shoulders, down her arms, her hips, and let it fall around her feet.
She shifted slightly, uncomfortable about being seen in such a revealed state. Her shift was thin cotton, washed too many times, and she knew it was almost see-through in some places. Under that she wore a pair of drawers, the pleated edges of which peeked out from beneath the chemise. She felt her skin getting hot as he just stared at her, silent. Reverent, even.
“You are so beautiful. I want to memorize every line of you. I want to burn this image in my mind forever so I never lose it, no matter what age and infirmity bring.”
She shivered at those sweet words. And again when he tucked a finger beneath each thin strap of her chemise and tugged it down, too. Inch by inch her skin was exposed, lower and lower until her breasts were bared and kissed by the warm air in the room.
She turned her head, unable to meet his eyes anymore.
“So lovely,” he muttered, more to himself, it seemed, than to her. As her chemise fluttered to join her gown, he lifted a hand and gently cupped her bare breast. He stroked his thumb over her nipple and electric pleasure sizzled through her veins until she gasped in surprise.
He slid a hand beneath her knees and lifted her onto his bed. She settled against the pillows and watched as he stepped away and stripped open his jacket buttons. He cast it aside, the same with his waistcoat. He unwrapped his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it from his trousers, he tugged the contraption over his head and her world just…stopped.
He was something. Broad-shouldered, perfectly muscled, with just a sprinkling of chest hair that made a path into his trouser waist. She had not had much experience with naked men. Her attacker hadn’t undressed. Her only points of reference were garden statues that made her eyes boggle.
This was different.
He tugged his boots off, then moved back toward her, leaving his trousers in place, just as her drawers were. He took a spot beside her on the bed, rolling to his side to face her.
“Still fine?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. You must understand, Baldwin, what happened, I’ve already been broken from it. But broken bones heal stronger. I’m that.”
“Yes, I can see that’s true. I admire it enormously.” He met her gaze. “It doesn’t mean that I won’t take care with you. Not just because of your past, but because you are lovely and wonderful and you deserve to be—” He leaned in and traced his tongue around her bare nipple. “—worshipped,” he finished.
She arched beneath him, in wonder at all the amazing things this man could make her feel and want and do. Tonight she wanted everything. It might be the only time she experienced such bliss.
There was no turning back from her needs now.
If he sensed that surrender, he made it clear by lifting her breast a little and going back to licking. Sucking. Little bursts of pleasure shot through her every time he did so, mimicking the way her body fluttered when he touched her intimately. This wasn’t release, exactly, but it drew her toward it. Muted pleasure that promised so much more.
“There is nothing like your taste,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ll never forget it.”
She lifted to him, her fingers combing into his hair as he sucked a bit harder, right to the edge of pain, but never over it. Just enough to make her feel alive and wanted and free.
As he pleasured her, he slid a free hand down the apex of her body, stroking his fingers over her bare skin until he came to the drawstring of her pantalettes. He pulled away from her breast and lifted his gaze to hers.
She was shaking. She knew he could feel it. Anticipation pulsed through her, but also anxiousness. Also fear. No matter how long it had been, the fear fluttered back and settled in her chest.
He glanced down, and together they watched his fingers work to untie the bow on the drawstring. With a few expert flicks of his wrist, he untangled the string and let the tension off her waistband. Slowly his hand slid in, over her stomach, across her mound. Her legs opened, granting him access to her sex once more.
He stroked there, sliding the wetness of her body across her sex. “It hurt before,” he said.
She sucked in her breath, trying not to go back to that dark night and the man who had stolen her innocence and her dreams in one cruel act. “Yes,” she admitted.
“It won’t tonight,” he promised. “Tonight is about you and your pleasure. If you trust me, I will make every effort to wipe away the past and make this time, this first time, something you do not regret.”
She gasped as his finger breached her slightly. “I already regret nothing,” she managed to croak out as the pleasure he could so easily generate began to build. “Please, just…just give me this.”
He gently pumped his finger in and out for a few strokes, then pulled away, leaving her body clenching against nothingness. He took himself off the bed and she stared as he unfastened his trousers and shucked them off in one smooth motion.
Her eyes boggled. Half-naked was one thing, fully naked another. She hardly knew where to look. Trim hips? Heavily muscled thighs? Or that thing between his legs. A cock, she’d heard it called. It was hard and jutted toward his stomach.
He said nothing but moved to the bed. He caught the edging of her drawers and tugged them off, tossing them over his shoulder and leaving her as naked as he was.
They stared at each other. His face contained as much wonder as she knew her own did, although a man like him had to have had lovers before. She was merely the next in a line, so why he appeared so enthralled was beyond her.
He moved closer, placing a hand on her calf. He watched her face as he drew his fingers up and up, skin on skin in places where no other person had ever touched her. Now he brought her to life, making her ultra-aware of everything he did to her.
He moved to the bed again, but his time he caged his body over hers. She gasped as his mouth covered hers. But kissing was comfortable, it didn’t make her afraid. Soon, she sank into the stunning desire he created as he brushed his lips against hers. Anxiety faded as he continued to kiss and kiss her, replaced by the warm desire that bubbled up in her entire body.
He drew back and she felt him shift, using his knees to part her legs a little farther, wedging himself into that snug spot so she felt the hard length of him just brush against her sex.
His gaze held hers, steady and calming, and he pushed forward. She felt him breach her, and immediately she tensed against the impending violation and the pain that would follow. No matter what he said, she knew what it would be like.
He stopped immediately and looked down at her with concern. “Gently, Helena,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
She drew a few long breaths. Trust him. That was easy in some areas, but in this…not as much. Still, she breathed, slow and deep, willing her body to relax. To cede control to him because he promised he would not take advantage of it. Bit by bit she relaxed, and it was only then that he moved again.
He stretched her with every inch, and she kept waiting for the pain. But it didn’t come. If anything, it was a delicious sensation of being filled up. His cock hit her in spots she didn’t know existed, and the pleasure she had felt before when he touched her or licked her murmured below the surface, whispering promises she didn’t know were possible.
Finally he fully seated inside of her and rested his forehead against hers. His breath came short and his hands gripped into fists as he pressed them into the pillow around her head. He was fighting for control, to be easy for her.
It meant the world.
“I want to move,” he ground out, his voice rough with passion. “More than I have ever wanted anything in my life. But I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
She wiggled around him and a shock of pleasure shot through her. It must have done the same for him, for his elbows buckled slightly and he let out a garbled sound.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please!”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He rolled back and thrust deep inside of her. She lifted to greet him, overcome by the luscious, powerful movement of his body within hers. She gripped him, grinding up and moaning as pleasure tore through her.
He continued, his body rolling over and through her. He dropped his mouth to hers and she opened. They devoured, neither one capable of finesse as mind departed and body became king.
She was shocked by how quickly she was lost, her body moving in a natural rhythm, her mind emptying of everything but the intense pleasure that built with each and every thrust. She shook as he continued that wonderful tempo, drawing her forward, forever forward, forever toward release.
When she found it, it was more powerful than it had ever been before. Pleasure exploded within her, and she cried out. He covered her mouth with his to mute the sound, and she keened against his lips as her fingers dug into his shoulders and her body pulsed out of control with wave after wave of release.
He increased the speed of his thrusts, dragging her relentlessly through sensation. His body tensed, he let out a low growl and then rolled away from her as he came against his hand and flopped back on the pillows beside her.
They lay like that for what felt like a blissful eternity, and then he moved to his side once more and faced her. Concern lined his face, erasing the peace that release had seemed to temporarily grant him.
“Are you well?” he whispered.
She shook her head with a smile. “You worry too much about me, Baldwin. I came to this room wanting exactly what just happened. And if my keening and crying out didn’t tell you, I got everything I wanted and more.”
He smiled at her description and leaned in to kiss her. She cupped his cheeks and reveled in him. Reveled in the warmth that remained after this powerful joining, reveled in the still tingling pleasure of her body.
That was a gift, and she would cherish it for the rest of her life.
He pulled back and said, “My prerogative is to worry, Helena, and to take care to make everything about this perfect for you. You deserve that. You deserve so much more than I could ever give.”
Her heart swelled with those words. Swelled with feelings she had been trying to ignore, trying to combat, since the first moment she’d turned and found this man on the terrace watching her count stars.
But there it was, and it was as undeniable as the physical draw between them. She loved him. Suddenly and impossibly and powerfully, she loved this man with all that her heart could hold and even more.
She loved him, and she knew that he could never be his. Except for tonight. Except for here.
She cupped the back of his neck and drew him down for another kiss. This one was slower, though, deeper, and he shifted as he began to stroke his hands over her body. She shivered and pulled away.
“Show me,” she whispered.
His eyes went wide, but his pupils dilated with renewed desire that matched her own. And as he rolled to cover her once more, she surrendered everything to him.
And knew there was some part of her that she would never get back.