blue eyes, she managed to glare at him. “I thought that he was you, Chris. What’s this…rake doing in your bed?”
The marquis managed to mask his laugh with a cough.
Chris ignored her question. “Collect your clothing and get dressed at once, Helena.”
She swung her legs off the bed and attempted to yank the cover with her, but Waverley held his end in a firm grip. “Oh no you don’t. Not before my host hands me my dressing gown.”
Darlington glanced around him, found Waverley’s robe on the back of a chair, and launched it toward the bed as if it were the main sail of a ship.
The marquis let go of his end of the quilt when he rose, and Helena fell off the bed, quilt and all.
“Cur,” she grumbled as she wrapped the quilt around her. She said, “Turn your heads!” She held the quilt with one hand, gathered her clothing with the other and sidled across the room toward the dressing screen.
When she emerged a few moments later, she turned her head from Chris to Waverley and back to Chris. She jutted her chin out. “How is it that this rake is occupying your bed chamber?”
“You chose the wrong chamber,” growled Darlington. “This is the guest chamber. The Marquis of Waverley is my guest.”
Oh dear! Was I in bed with a marquis? Her heart sank at the mortification.
“You owe me an apology, Darlington,” Waverley drawled, examining his fingernails. “The young lady is most certainly not one of your maids. Indeed, she woke me from a deep sleep.” He turned to Helena and added, “You needn’t blush, ma’am. I merely supposed I was in the midst of a delightful dream.” He stretched, yawned and ran his fingers through his hair.
“A nightmare, more like!” she said bitterly.
His eyes danced with amusement. “Allow me to assure you, ma’am, that nothing drastic occurred. You were not violated, ma’am. Not by me, in any event.”
Nothing drastic occurred? What of your engorgement? What of the heat that seared my loins? You call that nothing, you cad? “Why is the marquis here, Chris?”
Waverley took a step toward her, picked up her hand and kissed it. “Darlington was kind enough to offer me his hospitality, ma’am.”
“Don’t touch me.” She drew her hand away.
Darlington stepped between them. “How did you get in here, Helena?”
She glanced at the open door to the balcony.
“You climbed the oak tree? You’re not a child anymore. You might have fallen and broken your neck.”
“Would you care to make an introduction, Darlington?”
“Sorry, my lord. This is Lady Helena Fairchild, my betro…my next door neighbor.”
“Pleasure, Lady Helena Fairchild.” Waverley made an exaggerated leg.
Helena cast her eyes down. “How do you do, Lord Waverley,” she murmured, appalled at what she’d done to this man, at the embarrassing places her hands had been, at how readily he had responded. At how much pleasure she’d felt.
“It isn’t polite to stare,” said the marquis, his eyes filled with amusement.
“My apologies, sir. For…for calling you a rake.”
“Accepted, ma’am.”
Chris interrupted. “I’m waiting for you to give me your explanation, Helena.”
“Nothing happened, Darlington,” repeated the marquis.
“He’s right, Chris. I haven’t been compromised.”
“I beg to differ! The mere act of being in bed with a naked man is enough to be deemed a compromise.”
“Is it indeed?” she challenged hotly. “The fault is yours, then, for having driven me to this desperate act.” Her breath exploded in anguished bursts. “We need to talk, Chris. In private.”
“Lord Waverley will excuse us, I’m sure.”
Waverley held the door open for them. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Before Helena could make some biting retort, Darlington grabbed her by the elbow and attempted to push her toward the door, but she refused to budge.
“No, Chris. The servants…”
“They’ve all gone to bed. We’ll finish this in the library.”
Her heartbeat seemed to her loud enough for him to hear. Finish this? What can he mean? Finish what? Her insides turned cold. They spoke not a word as he led her downstairs, but once inside the library, she broke the uneasy silence.
“Tonight was nothing more than a horrible mistake. I wanted to welcome you on the night of your return home, Chris. Besides, what difference can it make? Are we not to be married?”
Chris paced back and forth, hands clasped behind him. His eyes narrowed as he answered. “You don’t know what you’ve done, do you? You don’t even know who the marquis is, do you?”
“If he’s a peer, he’s a gentleman. He won’t breathe a word of this.”
“Oh, won’t he? Waverley’s bounced around Europe for years, ever since he left India. That’s why it took me all year to find him. Do you know what they call him there? No. How could you?”
Helena recoiled at his fury. “You needn’t shout at me. Well? What do they call him?”
“I found him at Madame Z’s bordello, 12 rue Chabanais. A bordello! He chose to live there as a matter of convenience. When I asked for him, she laughed and said, ‘Ah, oui. Le roué Anglais.’ I found him in bed with three young er…ladies. You can imagine my shock.”
“Why had you sought him out?”
“I was sent to bring him home to England by order of the Regent.”
“I see. And the marquis is known as the English rake in Europe? I’ve never heard of him. Perhaps his reputation isn’t known here.”
“If it isn’t, it will be. Rumors travel like the waves across the English Channel. When it becomes known that you have been in bed with him, your reputation is ruined.”
“Then we must marry at once. Make it right. You know I love you, Chris.”
“Marry you? Ha! You’ve rendered that impossible! We’re finished.”
She turned ashen. “Finished? Am I to understand that you no longer wish to marry me?”
Chris forced a laugh. “How can I marry a woman who disgusts me? You destroyed all hope for our happiness when I saw you naked in bed with Waverley, like a common light skirt.”
Helena searched his face. Was this the man she had loved since she was a child? Disillusionment assailed her. She said evenly, “Have you lost your desire to marry me? I cannot believe my ears.”
“Believe that I’m done, Helena. You destroyed all hope for my marital happiness when you bedded the marquis. You know my ambition. I mean to become an ambassador for England one day. Your brash conduct has shown me that you can never be a proper wife for a man with a diplomatic career.”
Had he battered her with a cudgel, he could not have wounded her more. Determined not to weep, she bit back her tears and said, “What a pretty speech, My Lord Ambassador. How noble of you to think of England before the woman who has loved you all these years.”
He ignored her angry words and said, “In spite of what you may think at this moment, I’m a man of honor. I’ll call on your father in the morning to inform him it is your decision to cry off. I don’t intend to tell him why. Perhaps that will salvage your reputation. The duke is free to announce that it was you who broke it off.