At that, the weasel turned a bright pink and glanced at Rand with decidedly more wariness. "Indeed."
But it was not Rand he needed to be wary of, for Helena leaned close and said confidentially, "And I must tell you, he has taught me something I feel you must know, Baron."
"What is that?"
Her gaze fixed on Rand as if he were the only man in the room. "Women can have pleasure, too."
As the Baron muttered some unintelligible comment and scurried from the room, Rand laughed. "Your way was much more satisfying than the duel I was about to propose, my love."
Her eyes widened and he realized what he had said too late. "It means nothing."
"It means that I have won our wager and I may ask you for anything. Or did I get the details of the wager wrong?"
"You did not." He waited for her to ask him for the one thing he could never give her. "But you should remember that you can ask for water from a stone, but you shall never get it."
She moved closer to him. "Then I suppose I should be grateful I know you can give me what I want."
"You forget—"
"I have forgotten nothing about that afternoon. But if you wish me to beg, I am prepared to do so."
"What?" His mouth dried suddenly. She couldn't mean...
She moved to the door and turned the key. "First, no more interruptions, I think."
She leaned against the locked door and tapped her finger against her bottom lip. "Second, remember that silly promise I made you make? The one about —?"
"I remember." Too well.
"I want you to break it."
"Helena—"
"Now."
No, his mind said sternly. Unfortunately, he was in thrall to a stronger willed part of him at the moment. He crossed the room. Lifted her into his arms. Kissed her. In an instant her skirts were around her waist and her legs were locked around him.
"If you want pleasure, we should take our time," he whispered against her neck, even as he freed himself and slid into her.
"I won the wager. What matter if you pay in full now, or in the future," was all she said, her breath hot and fast against his ear as his movements pressed her back and up against the door. Her urgency drove him, his fingers found and stroked her until she moaned against his lips. As his climax thundered over him, he thought he might disappoint her, and then he felt her convulse around him as she, too, went over the edge.
Regret flooded over him in the next moment as he realized what he had done. He pushed away from her. To his surprise, as her skirts fell to the floor she looked almost untouched. Except for the flush in her cheeks and the dazed light in her eyes.
The languid wave of sleep did not come. Instead, he felt only a frantic need to set things right. "This does not mean I love you."
"Yes it does."
"No. You can't force someone to love you." A gate he had not been willing to open in years, one that he thought rusted shut forever, swung open inside him. The unvarnished truth escaped him. "It is not safe if my grandfather believes I love anyone or anything." He could see she doubted him already, but he gave her only truth. If she condemned him, she would do it with all the facts. "He has driven away or destroyed everything I have ever loved. So I have decided not to love anyone or anything."
She kissed him. "Love is not what you decide, you foolish man. It is what you do."
"I cannot allow it. I will not allow it."
She kissed him again. "And what you do not do."
He groaned. "Grandfather was a spymaster in the years we fought Napoleon. He has a network, still. Spying on me...and those who love me."
Another kiss. "You allowed me to paint you nude."
He closed his eyes. "All my life he has taken care of me. But there has been a price. Anything...any one who loved me...who I loved back, he took away. A puppy, a tutor, a...friend."
"The village girl? Jenny Bean? What happened to her?" Her face twisted as she began to comprehend what he was telling her. "You were there that night. That is why you are afraid for me. But you don't fear what you will do. You fear what he will do."
"Jenny was sweet, Helena. Like you. She didn't approve of me, she'd heard stories...but she liked me. Tried to reform me."
"What did he do?" Her voice twisted with bitterness. "What did he do that Marie and all the village thinks you did?"
"She had a reputation in the village. For going out with the young men...she wasn't a whore, Helena. But she liked her pleasure —"
She closed her eyes. "What happened to her?"
"We were in her cottage, just talking. Three men came in. Two of my father's men. And a former beau of hers. My father's men held me while her beau—"
She interrupted him, her eyes full of horror. "Held you?"
"They had to beat me unconscious. When I awoke, Jenny was gone. I was in a madhouse. My grandfather told me that I needed to cut away my sentimental streak or I would always be a weak man. He made it clear I would not be released from the madhouse unless I agreed to forget Jenny."
"He threatened your freedom."
"I left for London. Sent him a fortune in debts to pay. Let him believe I no longer cared about Jenny. About anything. I vowed never again to care for someone. To make them vulnerable."
"Not even me." It wasn't a question.
"You most of all." He had to make her understand. "Don't you see? If I love you, he will see you hurt."
"But..." Her face drained of blood and she sagged against the door. Finally, he saw, she understood.
Unfortunately, so did he. If she could see that he loved her, no matter his protests, his grandfather would not be fooled. No wonder the old man had tested him by insisting he not live with Helena. "And now, somehow, he has guessed how I feel. Perhaps because I fought so hard to convince him the child was mine." He caught her gaze, held it. Willed her to understand. "If I do not stay away from you, he will see you destroyed."
She fought the truth as she stared at him wordlessly. At last, she asked, "So what are you saying?" He knew she wanted him to say it aloud.
He moved to hold her tight to him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and closed his eyes striving to embed the feel of her like this in his memory. "That I have foolishly, recklessly, hopelessly fallen in love with my wife despite all my best efforts, and I must not see you again until I have ensured my grandfather is no threat to you, or to our child."
She argued, "
We
must ensure your grandfather is no threat to our family. Not you. We. You are not alone in this any longer."
He kissed her. "The duke and your sister will ensure you are safe. You will ensure we have a healthy child. I will take care of my grandfather."
"How?"
"I will be more ruthless than he is, of course. I tried to do it, once, long ago. But I fell short." He kissed her grimly. "But I will not do so again."
Wordlessly, she came into his arms, kissing him with more urgency.
He sighed into her neck. "This is not wise. My grandfather will be told of our meeting."
She bit his earlobe gently. "We should make the most of it, if he is to hold it against us both."
* * * * *
She had no word of him, no word from him, until late one moonless night, she gave birth to her son. His son.
"He is a beautiful boy, like his father was," Nanny Bea proclaimed with a proud coo.
Miranda and the duke came in to congratulate her, speaking softly in the still of the night. As they all bent over the babe, examining the tiny fingers and toes, Rand came into the room.
"I hear from Nanny Bea that I have won my bet. A son, in just less than ten months' time."
Helena thought he looked thinner, more pale, but his expression was the same devil may care smile that she had captured in her sketches.
He stood by the side of her bed and pulled back the blanket to examine his son's face. The newborn stared up into his father's eyes with sleepy fascination. But Rand's smile slipped. He glanced at the duke. "His eyes are blue."
"So I have noted." The duke's voice, too, held a hint of worry.
Nanny Bea took the infant and swaddled him tightly with a cluck of her tongue. "All infants have blue eyes for the first few months," she said as she bustled the child into the nursery that had been set up in the next room.
Helena sat up. "Is there something wrong with our son having blue eyes? I have blue eyes and they have served me well through the years."
Rand grinned. "You have beautiful blue eyes, and our son would be lucky to inherit them."
"But?" She asked impatiently.
His expression grew darker. "But I wagered my grandfather that our child's eyes would be green."
"You wagered—" She broke off, heat suffusing her face as she realized why he had made that bet.
Miranda bustled over to give her a hug. "No need to worry. We'll allow no one near enough to that sweet little nephew of mine for a good few weeks yet. By then his eyes could be green as grass."
The duke stood, too, patting Helena awkwardly on the shoulder. "There is no need to worry. We've kept you safe, and we will continue to do so." His eyes were trained upon Rand, as if the message were more for her husband than for Helena herself.
Rand's eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Not for much longer, your grace."
The duke nodded. "The marquess has sent word that he will arrive in London next week. We will send Helena and the boy to Valentine and Emily at Anderlin. They will be safe there while we deal with your grandfather."
"Deal with him how?" Helena asked, noting that the men seemed to have plans prepared for the arrival of the marquess. Plans of which she had been told nothing.
"That is for your husband to tell you. We will leave you to be private." The duke exited with a smothered yawn.
"How will you deal with him?" Helena asked, fighting the fatigue from the long hours of labor.
Rand sat beside her and rested her head on his chest. "Rest, Helena. The duke and I have matters well in hand. We should find agreement with my grandfather soon enough."
"What kind of agreement?"
"A home for us, and the funds to manage its upkeep. And no more worries about poisoned tea and cut girths."
She nuzzled into his shirt sleepily, "I wondered that it took you so long. I thought perhaps you had decided I was not worth the trouble after all. You should have told me about the wager on the color of our son's eyes."
"You are worth all, my love." He pressed a kiss into her hair, and whispered, "I did not want to give you one more thing to worry over."
She fell asleep in his arms, but woke alone, to the sound of her son's cry.
* * * * *
Helena finished gluing the whiskers on her cheeks and turned to her anxious audience. "How do I look?"
"Like a prime noodle." Nanny Bea shook her head.
"I should have tied you girls to your beds." Miranda shook her head in time with Nanny Bea. But then concern shadowed her face. "Are you certain you are well enough for this?"
"A month recuperating from a birth is enough." Despite the gravity of the situation, she could not suppress a smile. "As you will find out soon enough, duchess."
Miranda did not smile, although the placid way she moved her hand over her slightly rounded abdomen indicated she had only anticipation for the event. But she was not distracted from her worries.
"I can't wait any longer to find Rand. The marquess has already sent a note demanding that I come back to Parsleigh with him."
"Surely your husband will not want you to go with the marquess? There is no need to hunt for him now, is there?" Her sister's concern deepened her voice.
Where would he be? A gambling hell? A club? "I don't know. But I have to find him." Helena remembered how he had promised to be more ruthless than his grandfather this time. She didn't doubt he had meant it and meant it still.
"He ought to have come to you, so that you would not worry."
Helena laughed without amusement. "Rand never does what he ought. Griggson says he has not seen him in a week. Not since Marie stopped the marquess from stealing my son from his cradle." His grandfather had proved as ruthless as Rand had said he was. In just a few weeks there had already been a failed abduction attempt — foiled by a quick-thinking Marie, who had proved herself more than a timid child when she had pretended to agree to give the boy to one of the marquess's paid spies and then told Helena what was planned. Without shame, the marquess had then sent a terse note, smuggled in by a tearful Marie, stating that he would cut Rand off without a penny if Helena and "her son" were not settled into the dower house again within the week.
Miranda gasped. "You are afraid what he may do."
Helena did not see the point of denying the truth. "I am indeed afraid of what he will do to protect us. His grandfather has left him precious little choice. The marquess was not even swayed by the duke's influence in the matter. He has threatened to sue for custody of our son if I do not travel to Parsleigh. Rand will not stand for that."
"I'm afraid of what the earl may do, too. He was always a gentle boy, until he was pushed too far." Nanny Bea reached into her apron pocket and rummaged around. "I cannot keep his last secret any longer, even if he turns me out for betraying him." She pressed a folded paper into her hand. "You'll find him here, milady. At Avonmeade."
Helena looked at the older woman in puzzlement. "Where his illegitimate sons are housed? How can you be sure?"
"That's where I'd be if it were not for you and your son. He'll be there. You'll see why for yourself." The woman patted her hand, and tightened it around the map. "Just see you don't let appearances fool you."
Helena went cold, as she registered Nanny Bea's mix of regret and resolution. "Another one of his secrets?"
"The last of them. And the biggest of all." There was more than regret in the Nanny's expression. There was outright fear. "If the marquess were to find out...you mustn't let one of his spies see you."
That was the last of Helena's worries. "In my disguise, I will be just another young buck to them, no doubt."