Loving Helen (26 page)

A first kiss is a special thing and must be undertaken with the proper amount of preparation. Timing, location, and of course the person whom you shall kiss, are all of the utmost importance. Should you feel ready to experience your first kiss (and only if you feel ready — do not let that dunderhead brother of yours force you to it!) meet me at the gazebo at sunset.

Yours, Samuel

Helen reread the note left beside her breakfast plate a third time, then clutched it to her, a treasure she was certain she would keep forever.
As will be the memory of my first kiss.
She had every intention of meeting Samuel that evening at sunset. And though that was a good eight hours from now, her heart beat rapidly in anticipation.

Still holding the letter close and feeling rather dreamy, she started toward the stairs.

“Miss Helen, are you ready to play?” Beth called from above, a second before she began sliding backwards down the banister.

“Goodness,” Helen exclaimed, catching her at the bottom. “This is a new trick — and not one I am certain your father will like.”

“Mama used to do it.” Beth beamed. “Uncle Nicholas says I am just like her.”

“A high compliment indeed,” Helen said, feeling slightly less happy at the reminder of Elizabeth as she tucked the note into her pocket. The last woman Samuel had kissed was his wife.

Whom he still loves dearly. And whom he imagines himself to be conversing with this very moment in the garden. Will he tell her of me?

Helen tried to imagine the one-sided conversation but could not, though she guessed it included his asking Elizabeth’s pardon for a kiss he must give to a poor girl who would otherwise never experience one.

He is humoring me; that is all,
Helen thought, her mood turning quite glum.
And making certain that I am prepared, lest Lord Sutherland really does appear at the moment of our departure.
No longer quite so certain that she wished to meet Samuel this evening, Helen took Beth’s hand and began the climb to the nursery, resigned to, but finding less satisfaction in, resuming her role as a governess in training.

Eight hours later Helen peeked around the corner of the house. Samuel stood inside the gazebo, his silhouette highlighted in the setting sun. Pulling her cloak tighter, she took a deep breath and willed her heartbeat to steady. She had been here several minutes already, arguing with herself, trying to decide which course of action was best.

Kissing Samuel was a poor idea that would only bring more heartache. On the other hand, if she did not take advantage of this unique opportunity, might she spend the rest of her life regretting it? This was likely to be the only kiss she would ever receive, and from the only man she would ever care for.

I should allow him to kiss me. I must.

Before she could change her mind yet again, Helen stepped from the shelter of the house and into plain view. She held her head high as she walked toward the gazebo and Samuel, who still had his back to her. When she was close enough that he might hear, she called out to him.

“Good evening, Samuel.”

He turned suddenly, a look that almost seemed a combination of relief and happiness lifting the corners of his mouth and deepening the brown of his eyes. “You came.” He walked forward, his hand held out to her as she ascended the steps.

“I had to — I wanted to,” she clarified, lest he think Christopher had forced her to it. Beneath Samuel’s searching gaze, she felt her face heat.

He brushed his fingers gently across her cheek. “You are very pretty when you blush. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She shook her head. “Not until now.”

“Good. The person who gives you your first kiss ought to compliment you as no one has before. For example ...” His hand fell from her face. “You are the finest three-person waltz dancer I know.” He held his hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, “Though you must not tell that to the third in our party. She would be most upset with me.”

“I shall not breathe a word of your compliment, sir.” Helen pressed her lips together with her finger.

He nodded his approval. “In addition to your dancing skills, you sew the loveliest doll clothes I have ever seen.”

Helen arched a brow. “And you are a connoisseur of doll clothing?”

“Of course,” he said in mock seriousness. “You know my Beth. She demands only the best.”

“That she does,” Helen agreed, feeling some of her anxiety ease with his teasing.

“Which brings me to my next compliment,” Samuel said. “You have the caring and instincts of a mother. No doubt you shall be a great one someday.”

Would that I might.
She swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable. “That is not likely, but I thank you.”

“Beth has absolutely shined beneath your tutelage.”

He still finds my best to be with children.

Helen shook her head and tried to keep the building emotion at bay. “She cannot help but shine, no matter who is fortunate enough to be her companion.”

“Speaking of companions,” Samuel continued as if he had not noticed her discomfort. “You are an excellent partner at the theatre.” His smile broadened, as if remembering that pleasant evening. “You have more courage than anyone I know.” He took her hands, squeezing them lightly. “You are possessed of a fine intelligence and a quick wit. And you are not at all shy, as I was once led to believe.”

“Goodness,” Helen exclaimed, tugging her hands from his and bringing them to her warm cheeks. “You had best be careful. So many kind words are likely to go to my head. I believe I feel slightly dizzy already.”

“Then my ploy is working,” Samuel said, raising his hands in a sign of victory. “But I am not finished.” His eyes narrowed as one corner of his mouth quirked up. “You have a gift for espionage, the likes of which I did not realize until you confessed them to me on this very spot.”

“
That
is no compliment,” Helen said glibly.

“To me, it is,” Samuel said. “I admit to feeling very flattered that you watched me. That you sought me out to walk with me that morning.”

“Only because Grace had told me how young ladies at balls go about catching a man’s attention,” Helen admitted. “I foolishly believed that if I wore my prettiest dress and curled my hair, you would take notice of me.”

Samuel cocked his head to the side. “You wished me to notice you — even then?” One brow rose, as if he did not quite believe her.

Helen sighed heavily. This was not at all how she’d imagined this evening would go, but now that she’d begun speaking, she realized she needed to confess the whole of it — to finish what she’d begun to admit yesterday. She looked past him as she spoke.

“Last October, I worried that all would not go well with Grace and Lord Sutherland and that we would find ourselves outcasts once more. I knew it very likely that Father would force me to marry. So I thought that if I must marry, I should at least prefer to wed a man who had shown me kindness.” She dared to glance at him. “
You
had shown me kindness.”

“I see.” The teasing had left Samuel’s voice. “And now that your father is gone, you will not be forced to wed anyone.”

“No.” She turned away.

He will not kiss me now that he knows how I had thought to use him.

“May I assume, then,” Samuel continued, “that if you chose to pursue a man, it would no longer be an act of desperation, but perhaps something your heart genuinely desires?”

What is he asking me?
“Ye-es.” Helen spoke hesitantly.

“Look at me, Helen.” He so rarely asked anything of her, and never commanded, that his order took her by surprise.

She turned to him as he’d requested and found him to be standing very close. “Oh!” She startled as his arms came suddenly around her.

“I am going to kiss you now,” Samuel said, looking at her, his face so near, his lips hovering just above hers. “That is what you came for, right?”

She nodded, not daring to take her eyes off his, lest he begin before she expected it.

“What should I do with my hands?”

Samuel looked at her arms, which were pinned at her sides by his. “Put them on my shoulders.”

“Why?”

He smiled. “Because I would like them there. And so you may easily push me away if you find that you do not care to be kissed after all.”

“Oh.” She was positive that her face was on fire, but she rested her fingertips on his shoulders. “I’m scared,” she said, the admission falling from her lips before she realized what she was saying.

“So am I.” His eyes filled with tenderness. “I have only kissed one other woman, and nearly four years have passed since then. For a very long time, I did not think to ever have the privilege again.” His head came forward, but instead of kissing her, he merely leaned his forehead against hers. “And now that I have it, now that I have you in my arms, I am very much afraid. I want this to be a beautiful moment for you, Helen. And for me, I don’t want it to end.”

It doesn’t have to.
“It is beautiful already,” she whispered, then smiled. “I thank you for not making me share it with Christopher.”

Samuel chuckled as he pulled back to look at her. “We most definitely will not share this with your brother.” He leaned forward again, this time with intent in his eyes. Helen felt hers flutter closed as his soft, warm lips brushed against hers, then lingered, moving gently, filling her soul with a sweet warmth.

I love you, Samuel.
She must have only thought it, as her mouth was too occupied to speak, but she longed for him to hear the words, to know that the pretend had become so very real for her. He’d said he did not want this moment to end.

But it did. He pulled back, head still tilted slightly as he studied her with inquisitive eyes. “Well?” A corner of his mouth quirked up as if certain of her answer.

“Well yourself,” she said, feeling suddenly bold and fixing him with what she imagined to be a rather heat-filled stare.

“Did you enjoy your first kiss?” he asked, sounding slightly less confident.

She hesitated. “Yes. But …”

“What?” His brows wrinkled with worry.

Helen bit her lip to keep from laughing. Then feeling she had tortured him long enough, she set out to do the opposite. “I do not think my hands should be on your shoulders. Because I have no intention of pushing you away.” Never taking her eyes from his she moved closer, sliding her hands over his shoulders to the back of his neck.

Now Samuel’s eyes were wide with astonishment, and Helen felt an entirely new emotion, as if she were in possession of a great power she had just discovered. “And I think it ought to be the lady who decides when a kiss is ended, especially if it is her first. Your kiss was quite good until you ceased it abrupt —”

His mouth covered hers again, and she closed her eyes.
Absolute bliss.
His arms tightened at her waist, and Helen sighed contentedly. But still Samuel’s lips caressed hers.
What have I done?
She realized it would be up to her to pull away, and she wasn’t at all sure that she could.

As for me, I don’t want it to end.
Could that possibly mean
—

“Papa, Miss Helen, what are you doing?”

They broke apart at once, and Helen wasn’t sure whose face appeared redder — hers or Samuel’s. Beth danced at their feet — her own bare, and no cloak or winter wrap about her.

“What are
you
doing?” Samuel scolded, then snatched her up.

Instinctively, Helen stepped forward, took Beth’s feet in her hands, and began rubbing them briskly. “She’s frozen.”

Samuel unfastened his coat and wrapped it around Beth. “Where is Mary?”

Beth shrugged. “She told me to stay out of mischief while she went to take my dress downstairs to be washed. I used my paints on it, and she was very cross with me.”

“Oh dear,” Helen said.

“Your
paints
?” Samuel asked.

“This is my fault. I gave them to her.” Helen tensed, awaiting his reaction. “Beth is very creative, and I thought — painting might be a good outlet?”

“Her creativity has never been the problem,” Samuel grumbled, but Helen thought she could see the start of a smile beneath his gruff words.