Page 47 of A Dream of Redemption
She lied. Shehadthought that. She was nervous, and not from maidenly embarrassment. She wasn’t nervous because he was standing in front of her and she was remembering what they had done to each other in the throes of passion, but because of what he might’ve said to her brother.
Hurt ricocheted inside his rib cage. Was she merely playing with him, as Simon had suggested? Surely if her talk of a future together were true, she would not be so anxious.
“You’re petrified that I’ll tell your brother about us.” Her face blanched white and he inwardly cursed. Pain made him lash out. “You’re a hypocrite. Our future? What future? How will you stand by me in society if you can’t bear for your brother to know about us?” He turned away, too hurt to stay in the same room with her.
She grabbed his arm and made him stop. “Yes, I was afraid. That’s the truth. But only because I know my brother, and I know when the time comes he needs to be handled delicately or he could make things difficult for us.”
“And when will the time come, when you’ve had enough of me? When I have titillated you enough, pleasured you enough? When do you think you’ll have had enough of playing this game? You might not have anything to lose, but I can lose everything. I can lose my respect and pride and my livelihood. And then there’s Simon. Whatever we do affects him too.” He moved to stand in front of her, hands on hips, anger getting the better of him. “I know what it’s like to have nothing and I intend to never experience that again.”
He tried to harden his heart as the tears welled in her eyes. “Please don’t be angry with me. I do love you, it’s just—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I’m not doing this. It’s too hard, and too risky.” When he mentioned the risk, it wasn’t the risk of his livelihood being destroyed that he was worried about. It was his own heart he was protecting. Already it was breaking thinking that she had used him, that she didn’t really love him. Why this sudden wavering? “Has Marisa talked to you?”
“I haven’t seen her for a few days. I’ve been busy with Beatrice, organizing the charity luncheon.”
So not the truth of his past, she still did not know the worst and already she doubted a relationship was possible. He needed her out of his life. Yet Marisa hadn’t seen her so wouldn’t have told her that Helen should step back from helping with the orphanage.
But he would. “I think it would be best if you stepped away from your efforts with the orphanage. We need to put some distance between us and I can’t do that while you are involved.”
Helen reached out her hand to him but he could not take it. “You can’t mean that. At this point in time you can’t hold it against me that I don’t want my brother to know about us. I just need more time so this is done correctly.”
“Can’t you see?” he said softly. “There is never going to be a right time to tell him.”
With that he turned and left the room, his heart shattering in his chest, the pain making it difficult to walk.
—
What had she done? Why hadn’t she argued harder?Because a part of you thinks he’s right.There was never going to be a good time to tell her brother.
She was such a coward.
She sunk into the nearest chair and fought valiantly to stop the tears from coming. Beatrice would be back soon and Helen couldn’t let her see she was upset…Or maybe she could.
She thought about what Clary had said. She did love him, so why was she so afraid to let those around her know it? He was right. She was behaving as if she was ashamed of him and she wasn’t. She needed to apologize and talk through how they could announce their relationship to her family. But how did she contact him? Did she stalk him in his study at Marisa’s house? She bit her bottom lip. No, it would be better if they had time to talk in private, where no one could interrupt.
Just then Beatrice came breezing into the room in a cloud of noise. She stopped just inside the room when she saw Helen was alone. “Oh, I needn’t have made so much noise. Has Mr. Homeward left…” Her words died away as she took in the distressed look on Helen’s face.
“We had an argument.”
Beatrice closed the door behind her. “I think you have something you need to tell me.”
Helen nodded her head and burst into tears. Beatrice hurried over and gave her a hug. “Has the rogue hurt you?”
She laughed through her tears. “No. But I have hurt him. I didn’t mean to but I have.”
Beatrice sat and handed her a handkerchief. “I gather that there are feelings between you and Mr. Homeward.” Helen nodded. “Does Marisa know?”
“I think so.”
“Has she told you about his past yet?”
“Why do you and Clary persist in mentioning his past?”
Beatrice’s eyes widened. “He has tried to tell you.”
“Yes. But I told him it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care that he was brought up in Yorkshire near Maitland’s estate and that his parents might have been tenant farmers. I don’t care that he was poor or is poorer than us.” She saw a stricken look pass over Beatrice’s face. “Yes, I have heard the story. I eavesdropped on a couple of Marisa’s maids discussing him and his background.”
“Oh, my darling girl. I really think Marisa should be the one to tell you, or Clary himself. The background you overheard is a history Maitland made up for both Clary and Simon. The reality is far worse.”
