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“Good evening, Helen. I received your message and am at your service.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened with a mixture of delight and sheepishness. “In my haste, perhaps my message lacked circumspection. I—I haven’t called you here on anurgentmatter. It could have waited…”
He smiled. “You asked that I call at my convenience, and it suited me to come as soon as possible. If I’ve interrupted anything—”
She nodded, regarding him with a mysterious smile. “You’ve interrupted a great deal, haven’t you?”
Only the quiet presence of the butler kept Nicholas in check. He wasn’t ignorant of the upheaval he had wrought in her life; she wasn’t referring to whatever she’d been doing this evening, of that he was certain. No, between them a great current rippled—and had ever since the moment they met.
“In this case,” she continued, “I had my nose deep in some ledgers, courtesy of one Penelope Sideris. I thank you for saving me.”
“The impish gleam in your eye gives you away, I’m afraid. You adore it.” He cocked his head. “That first day in my office—I wondered what would happen should you ever meet my sister.”
“Oh?” She looked taken aback, but recovered quickly enough. “The matter I contacted you about—it relates to Pen. Something good! At least, I hope it’s of interest.” Her gaze moved to the door behind him. “It seems the rain has stopped?”
“For now.”
Her restless excitement surged over him, so her next request did not surprise him.
“Would you accompany me outside? I can’t stand being trapped inside any longer.”
“Far be it from me to stand between you and freedom, Helen. Come. The skies threaten to open again, but let us stroll a bit before they do.”
After a maid brought Helen’s cape, they stepped outside together. Eager to go out, she had declined her maid’s offer to fix her hair, leaving the girl wide-eyed. She accepted his arm, but as soon as the door closed behind them and they stood alone on the porch, she stopped.
A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. Sighing contentedly, she lifted her face toward the moonlight. After a moment, she squeezed his arm, then tugged him enthusiastically.
He chuckled. “Were the walls closing in on you?”
“They were! I thought of going out alone once I heard the rain slow, but not at night, of course. Had I pulled a servant out with me, they would have hovered, and I can’t stand that either.”
“Good timing on my part.” His gaze searched fruitlessly for the moon, suddenly hidden once more. “We shouldn’t be deceived by the night sky. It’s cloudy still. I don’t think the rain is quite done with us yet.” When they reached the end of the block, he paused, looking down into her eyes, shiny in the buttery glow of the gas streetlamp. “We’ve a decision to take together.”
Helen looked from him up to the heavens. “Whether to turn back. We could stroll back and forth in front of the house, where refuge is near, should the rain resume.”
“You’re ahead of me every step of the way, Helen. Yes, that’s what I meant. There is shelter behind us. Or”—he indicated with his chin toward Connaught Square and the communal garden nestled within—“ahead is the unknown. The weather may be fair or foul.”
“It may,” she acknowledged reasonably, her regard watchful. “But there are some knowns there, too, aren’t there? The beauty of the trees. The peace of so few outside at the moment.”
He made an indistinct sound of agreement. “All that. But the rain could come with a start.”
“I’m not afraid of the rain,” she countered softly.
“Perhapsyouaren’t. What if I am?”
They both laughed, and she shook her head, denying his question.
“Very well. I’m not. Regardless, we would be in it together, wouldn’t we?”
“Unless I fly like the wind when the first drop falls. Leave you to drown.”
“Such rough words. Delivered with bravado even.” He shook his head. “But I think not.”
She lifted her chin. “You believe you know something of me. Perhaps you do. What, then, will I choose? To pace in a line? Or risk being caught in the rain?”
“You crave security,” he observed quietly. Though her gaze hardened, he continued. “You have sense to you, Helen. It’s cleverness to protect oneself, and I’ve told you before—you do it well. But you’re bold, too, aren’t you? You don’t avoidallrisks. You’re brave. As soon as we stepped outside, you relished the breeze on your cheeks.”
“Many words, yet few answers, Nicholas Irons.”
