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Nicholas tamped down on the urge to smile; he didn’t find the subject amusing in the slightest, but there was a certain enjoyment to be found in the depth of Helen’s reaction.How fierce she is when beset by fury!So long as I am not the object of it…
“I’m afraid so. I’ve had this same result so far. I’m making inquiries outside London. There might be someone in Edinburgh. At the university.”
Her hand moved dramatically through the air. “Dash going all the way to Scotland! I have a Scotsman in London who fits the bill!”
Fits the bill?He assumed that was some sort of American turn of phrase, but her meaning seemed clear enough.A Scotsman in London whom she would know. One who—“Macalester!”
“Mr. Macalester indeed,” she replied with great relish.
Her satisfaction and excitement spurred his own, though his mind was on her rather than on mathematics and engineering.
“He’s not a professor, I know,” she said, “but he’s more than proficient in his field. Having spoken to him and seen that model of his wheel, there’s no question about his aptitude! Moreover, he was willing to speak with me at length, remember? He took no offense that a woman wished to converse about his work. In fact, it was as if he didn’t notice I was a woman at all!”
Oh, he took notice.It’s a daft man who could be in your presence and not notice. “You’ve hit upon a brilliant idea, Helen. I’m kicking myself for not thinking of it. It makes perfect sense! He’s a busy man with all his projects, but I daresay his own curiosity would make him inclined to consider it.”
“Oh! It gladdens me to know that I may have helped. Pen seemed so frustrated over the situation. In fact, I’ve said nothing to her about my idea, as I wouldn’t want to disappoint her further should it not work.”
“I’ll speak to Macalester and let you know what comes of it. Would you consider chaperoning them if he accepts?”
Her eyes widened as giddily as a child’s opening a present. “Yes!” She took hold of his arms, smiling widely. “There are benefits to being a widow and of a certain age! I shall serve as a chaperone and learn from Mr. Macalester as well! Oh!”
As if he were single-handedly responsible for her joy, a burgeoning sense of satisfaction lifted Nicholas. Or was he besotted by her radiance? He couldn’t say, he only knew that being in her presence felt like traveling on some journey to a place he’d never been and hadn’t even known to dream about. He felt alive, excited, and above all, certain that he would do anything to keep her smiling.
“You find as much delight in the idea of meeting with an engineer as others might in an audience before the Queen. Or in a chest full of jewels.”
Her laugh was throaty. “Yes. All it takes to please me is a waterwheel genius and a shipload of silver bullion!”
Nicholas stepped closer and cupped her face. “They’re yours. All yours.”
She’d been jesting; he was not. Hearing his utter sincerity, her amusement faded, leaving wonderment in its place. “You came to me today.”
His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “As soon as I received word.”
Clutching the lapels of his coat, she stared up with burning eyes, and he could hold back no longer. He wanted to be as close to her as the moonlight on her luminous skin. His hands remained gentle on her face, but soon, the ardor of their kiss escaped its bounds.
She gave and took generously, and though he could not quite believe that her hunger could equal his own, he reveled in her response. All the care he had tried to exercise the past month melted away; all the polite space he had kept between them closed.
Hesitant raindrops tickled his scalp, but he ignored them until they fell more forcefully, pelting his forehead and the back of his neck. He pulled back from the kiss but not from the embrace, and they both stood panting, unable to let go in the now-moonless darkness.
Soon the rain changed; water fell from the sky in sheets.Damnation!They were both increasingly drenched by the second, yet it did nothing to cool their desires.
Nicholas bent to give her one last kiss before spiriting her back to the house, but her fingers threaded into his hair. He arched over her, using his body to block the rain. They kissed until his hair was so plastered and soaked the rivulets poured onto their faces.
Her happy laughter carried over the rain, and she pulled at his hand—guiding him not back toward the house, but over the soft ground off the path and into the garden. He ran after her, following her to the partial shelter of one of the huge established trees. The branches well above them provided some but not much protection, as its spring leaves were furled into buds begging for release.
He shrugged off his coat while Helen pressed her back against the knobby trunk. Lifting his coat above their heads, he pressed it against the tree, draping it over them, his body a frame over hers. The oiled cloth provided some temporary resistance to the rain, creating a cocoon for him and Helen against not just the pelting rain, but the rest of the world.
He ran his lips up the side of her wet neck, and her fingers pressed into the muscles on his chest. Her voice was breathy. “That night at your parents’s—in the music room after the dinner party…”
He rumbled low against her neck, the aroused sound conveying what her voice had—that neither of them could forget how it had felt to be in each other’s arms.
“I desired you and thought you desired me. But after that, you kept your distance. I’ve wondered…”
“God, Helen,” he breathed near her ear, then kissed along her jawline. “How I desired you then and every day since. But you’re here in England under my protection. If I were your brother and returned to find that anyone had taken advantage of you—”
“You’re afraid of my brother?”
“I’m afraid ofyou—of how you feel about being here. Being kept prisoner. How in good conscience could I…” He shook his head, knowing he ought to be more torn in this very moment about touching her under the circumstances. “I don’t want you to feel cornered. Forced. You’re not.”
