“Lord Grandhill, how wonderful to see you,” Teresa said excitedly, and offered him a quick curtsy as she blushed.
“Lady Teresa,” Morgan greeted her with a bow of his head, then turned back to Helena. He winked as he bowed his head towards her, and Helena felt her fingers twitch in excitement as he gave her a knowing smirk. “Lady Helena.”
“I was not aware that you are a fan of the oral arts.” Helena commented and gave him a cheeky smile in return.
Morgan’s smile momentarily turned wolfish, but he composed himself, twisted his mouth into a serious expression and nodded.
“Unfortunately, tonight I am,” Morgan admitted, motioning his head to Ambrose, who was conversing with Mimi’s older brother, Christopher.
“Your brother insisted I attend,” he went on, “as a favor to Chris. Admittedly, I am bored out of my mind.”
“You do not enjoy poetry, Your Grace?” Teresa asked politely.
“Quite the contrary,” Morgan stated, his gaze warming Helena’s bloodstream. “I believe well-written prose can be quite…invigorating.”
Helena blushed as she thought of the words they had exchanged the other night. Although they had not been poetic, she appreciated their innate art and beauty.
“Lady Teresa, would you mind if I stole Lady Helena away for a moment? Family business,” Morgan asked politely.
“Of course,” Teresa agreed. “I shall go and fetch us some drinks, Helena.”
Helena and Morgan remained silent as they watched Teresa walk to the nearby refreshments table. Morgan took a slow look around the room, as though ensuring his words would be safe from neighboring ears.
“I owe you an apology for the other night,” he murmured to Helena, taking a small step closer to her. “I fear I went too far with your lessons.”
Helena felt a sweep of indignation move through her as she heard the worry in his voice.
“I assure you,sir,you did no such thing,” she replied, her tone low and icy as she smiled at him sweetly. “I am quite aware of what I can and cannot manage, and I have no regrets. I apologize, however, ifyoudo.”
Although she knew that Morgan was only looking out for her, she was offended by his statement. Morgan instantly noticed the change in her demeanor.
“I never said such a thing,” he replied coyly.
Unable to help herself, Helena asked the question that had been burning in her mind since the first night they had come together.
“So you are enjoying this then?” she asked. “Not too much of a chore for you?”
Morgan chortled as he swayed closer to her and ran the tip of his index finger up the back of her hand.
“You are no chore, Helena, and I havegreatlyenjoyed my time with you,” he whispered back, his tone infused with desire. “But it is imperative that I know you remain comfortable with what we do and that you are not feeling coerced.”
Anger doused Helena’s blooming arousal and she frowned at him.
“The only force I am feeling is from my brother and his idiotic insistence that I marry this year,” she answered testily. “If you do not wish to continue mylessons, that is fine, but if I?—”
“Easy, my little Persephone,” Morgan whispered soothingly. “I never said that. In fact I have found immense joy in conducting your lessons. Likely far too much for my own good.”
Despite her initial burst of irritation, Helena felt herself becoming calmer upon hearing not only her pet name, but also his admission.
“Apologies,” she whispered back, eyes darting around the room. “I have found myself ill-tempered of late. It is hard to relax when every man you see around your brother is your potential future husband; a husband you have no connection to, whatsoever.”
Compassion overshadowed Morgan’s smirking face.
“He only wants what is best for you, Helena,” he offered. “With everything that happened with George, the original suspect in their fathers’ murders, and how close Lydia and Ezra came to dying, he wants to be sure he has someone by your side to protect you.”
Helena sighed wearily.
“I know,” she whispered. “But his protection is starting to feel like a death sentence.”