“I will be your mistress,” she suddenly said. “I will spread myself before you, do whatever you want. I will—”
His arms dropped to his sides in shock. “Good God, Helaine, I do not mean to blackmail you! What kind of monster do you think I am?”
Her knees went out from beneath her and she sank to the couch in terror. “What do you want?” she said. “There are so many lives dependent upon me. I pray you remember that. Not only my mother, but now Penny and the boy. Wendy would survive. Dressmakers always need a talented seamstress. But the rest of us…” Her voice trailed away. What would she do if he turned against her? He touched her shoulder then. She had seen him move forward, had steeled herself for his caress. What demands would he make?
He stroked her cheek just once, and then let his hand fall away. “I shall call for my coach. I will stay here, Helaine, and he will return you to your home.”
She looked up at him, feared that he was merely delaying the inevitable. Eventually he would call on her and demand something. Men always did. How many times had her father done something nice for her? Out of guilt or charity or simply because he had won at the gaming tables that night. He would gift her with something, say it was because he loved her, but then weeks or months later he would turn it on her. He would point to his gift, whether it be a necklace or the food on the table. He would rail that he had done that for them, and he’d demand that they repay him in some way.
“I am not a monster,” Robert repeated, though it was clear he didn’t expect her to believe him. “I will never tell.”
“And will you never lose control? Never become angry with me and wish revenge? Never—”
“Helaine!” he snapped, clearly offended. “You have no reason to fear me!” Then he huffed, his gaze going to the ceiling. “How can I convince you? I have already sworn that I will do nothing to interfere with your business. My sister has decided to make your shop fashionable. I stand here like a monk, though God knows that’s not what I want. I still find you beyond beautiful. What else can I do?”
She had no answer. He could promise her the moon right now, but she wouldn’t believe him. “There is nothing,” she whispered, wondering how it had all changed so fast. “I have no faith in men’s promises. I should have remembered that before I began this night.”
“So we are all villains merely because of our biology?”
She lifted her hand in a gesture of futility. “Biology, rearing, education, I don’t know. But no man has ever proved himself true to me. None have looked to my thoughts before theirs, to their family before their lusts.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I have never betrayed you like that.”
“You were about to.”
“You cannot know that. You damn me without ever giving me a chance.”
She bit her lip. Was that what she had done? She didn’t know, and she hadn’t the focus now to figure it out. So she straightened to her feet. “Thank you, my lord,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I can honestly say that I will never forget this night.”
He nodded, his gaze still searching her face. “Nor I.” Then he crossed to the door, opened it, and called for the innkeeper, instructing the man to have his carriage readied immediately. When that was done, he turned back to her, gently holding up her wrap and gloves.
“You will wish these,” he said neutrally.
She nodded and forced herself to step up to him. It wasn’t that hard. Indeed, now that she was leaving, she found herself wanting to go back to the moment before. What if she’d closed her eyes when he stripped her of her gown? What if she’d clung to the oblivion of passion? Would she even now be experiencing pleasure the likes of which she could only imagine? She doubted the end would be any different, but the memory would be. The knowledge would change as well. She would finally know what women experienced in their marriage bed.
“I am sorry that I couldn’t be different,” she said as much to herself as to him. “I am sorry that I cannot find a way to give us both what we want.”
The side of his mouth quirked up in a rueful smile. “Your fears are natural, Helaine. I have handled this badly.”
She shook her head. “You are a man used to getting what he wants when he wants. I should never have thought otherwise.”
He had been putting her wrap on her shoulders when she spoke, but at her words, she felt him shift. He laid his hands flat on her shoulders and gently turned her around. “So that is my excuse, you think? I am a man and an aristocrat, so I must by definition hurt you? I have no control of it at all?”
“You didn’t tonight,” she said, her chin lifting as she challenged him. “Your every intention was to charm me, to pleasure me, to make this a night when everything was perfect. And yet I will leave here more unsettled, more afraid, and more uncertain than ever before.”
He grimaced. “I will not reveal your identity, Helaine. To anyone. I swear it!”
“And what is my forfeit when you do?”
He threw up his hands. “What do you want?”
“A livelihood, my lord. Promise that if you ruin me, then you will give me the means to start anew.”
He nodded. “Done.”
She searched his eyes, reading his intention in every line of his body. He meant what he said, and he was generally believed to be a man who honored his debts. She felt her breath ease out in relief. She no longer feared total disaster. If he destroyed her, he would do what he could to make amends. It wasn’t much, she reminded herself. A dozen things could change between now and then. A passionate promise today could mean nothing at all tomorrow. But it was the most reassurance she could have right at the moment.
“Thank you,” she said. Then there was no more time. The innkeeper returned to say the carriage was ready.
She left then, her gaze lingering as long as possible on his face. She wanted to memorize the texture and the colors to hold close to her at night. Perhaps she would damn him someday, but for tonight, she simply felt a longing for what could have been. If only things were very different, they could have had something wonderful together.
If only…
“Good-bye, my lord.”
“Good-bye, Mrs. Mortimer.”
Then she walked away.
Robert stayed in the inn for hours after she left. He ate roasted almonds, stared into the fire, and thought. First he cataloged his emotions. He felt everything from anger that all his plans had been for naught and elation that he had escaped a viper-tongued, inconsistent harpy. That was a childish fit of pique, but he indulged it for a few moments. It was allowed in the privacy of this little room.
Eventually he admitted that he was to blame. She had told him they would not lie together, that she would not be his mistress. He was merely angry that his plans to circumvent her morals had failed.
Which led him to shame. Deep and penetrating shame. He recalled in detail all those times when he had felt superior to his father, more levelheaded than his younger brother, more morally upright than most of his peers. Did he not care for sick prostitutes? Had he not thrown his father out of the house for accosting a maid? While his peers were drinking and whoring throughout London, he was the one working, trying to salvage his brother’s tuition money from his father’s latest business inspiration. He was a prince among men, the most constant, moral man of character in London.
Until Helaine. The moment she’d stepped into his sights, he’d planned her seduction with the same force of character that he’d applied to managing the family estate, disciplining his father, and raising his younger siblings. In short, the only reason he was accounted a man of good character was because the right temptation had not yet crossed his path. Once Helaine had appeared, all his virtue had flown away and he’d become as depraved as all the rest.