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Mr. Tate’s distinctive rap sounded on his office door just as he sat down in his chair.
“Return in fifteen minutes,” he called out.
“Very good, sir,” came the muffled reply.
Hello, old friend, he thought, pulling out his weighty marble rock. Sighing deeply, he shifted it from hand to hand and dispensed with a few last thoughts about the gathering he’d just attended.
Relations between Chadbourne and Robertson remained tense at times but were mostly smoothed over. The two men possessed the same set of guiding principles, and thus their firms operated by that same code—investing in the latest advancements, protecting their workers, seeking efficiencies, and taking calculated risks.
It was their styles that varied. Though they rarely disagreed about substance, their respective mannerisms and ways of viewing the larger world prompted misunderstanding and annoyance.
One more long meeting separated Nicholas from Helen’s company, and unless he indulged his daydreams about her now, he wouldn’t be able to function through it intelligibly. His clerk and everyone else would have most of his attention shortly; for now, he closed his eyes and held his rock, wishing he was holding her.
Sharing a pillow in the dark last night, their limbs entwined like vines, Helen had described her latest impressions of the growing attachment between Pen and Macalester. Nicholas had disconnected from her words and instead focused on her tone. The subject was one he would have to face in earnest eventually, but it was the last thing he wanted to think about with Helen pressed against him.
“Can you imagine their children?” she had mused dreamily. “Sharp as needles, their minds. Possibly very naughty, they could be, but such beautiful children.”
Nicholas marveled at her aspirations for Pen—and hoped she was becoming more sanguine about her own fate. She had as many jagged edges as his marble rock, especially when she felt pushed.
Hearing the joy and wistfulness in her voice as she spoke of children tested his resolve not to test the waters about their future. When she’d lapsed into silence afterwards, her body soft against him, had she, too, been wondering about their own babes and who they would take after?
Learning that Helen had been trapped—if not tricked—into marriage with Robbie through fear of pregnancy, explained, at least in part, her efforts to ensure she didn’t become with child out of wedlock. Every tidbit he gleaned about her marriage and the Gray family made her desire for independence all the more understandable.
But damn it, she had to know by now that he was no Robbie and the Siderises were not the Grays!
Nicholas squeezed the marble until it bit into his palm and fingers.
The knock at the door surprised him, but when he checked his pocket watch, he found that indeed, a full fifteen minutes had elapsed already. Alas, the rest of the day would not pass as quickly.
Nonetheless, at a quarter to seven, he was finally admitted into Helen’s house, wearing his evening attire, a black tailcoat over a white waistcoat.
But Helen was nowhere to be seen.
He looked to the butler, then followed Farnworth’s gaze to the door of the drawing room.
Odd. She’d always met him in the foyer on the evenings he accompanied her out.
“Helen?” he asked witlessly, finding her sitting on the settee with her back to him, as if she hadn’t heard him arrive.
She rose and turned to face him—and stole his breath. The pale-pastel satin gown skimmed her voluptuous body as his hands wanted to. Swept up like a goddess’s, her dark-red hair was encircled by a crown of olive leaves.
Unlike that first dinner party at his parent’s when he first spied this gown, he was no longer obligated to conceal the depth of his reaction. He strolled to her, his eyes gleaming and hungry. His hands skimmed over her round hips, and a shiver ran through them both.
His gaze dropped to the smooth bodice that cupped her bounty. “Perhaps it’s best that we stay in tonight. I want to feast on you for supper.”
A few minutes later, breathless but determined, Nicholas drew back from their embrace. Shaking his head ruefully, he ran a fingertip over her wet bottom lip.“I want to stay, you know I do—but we’re expected.”
Her eyes drifted closed, and she shook her head. “I’m uncertain I’m going tonight.”
“What is it? Are you unwell?”
“I—I’ve spent too much time with your family, Nicholas. It’s…unwise. Excessive. It would be best to—”
“What’s happened, Helen?”
She swallowed, then spoke in a near-whisper. “I don’t think I’m…welcome. Not anymore. It seems that…” After clearing her throat, she told him about her attempted visit that afternoon. “I think you should go without me tonight.”
He cupped her face with one hand and stroked the silky hair at her temple with the other. “Oh, Helen. Even if what you suspected was true, I wouldn’t leave you alone. We would spend the night here as we have been—together, in bed and out. But I assure you, there’s been a misunderstanding. I know without a doubt that you’re most welcome, as ever. Both my family and I are looking forward to your company tonight.”
