Mastered by Love (Bastion Club 8)

And Susannah. His sister swanned past beyond Helen; she caught his eye—no difficulty as it was fixed on her—and winked. Hiding his reaction behind an easy expression, he left Helen to her conversation with Caroline Courtney; reaching out he closed his fingers about Susannah’s elbow and drew her with him as he strolled a few paces.

Once they were sufficiently apart to speak privately, he released her and looked down as she looked up at him.

She smiled with childlike—childish—delight. “Well, brother dear, are you happier now?”

He read her sincerity in her eyes. Inwardly sighed. “Actually, no. Helen and I parted when I left London.”

Susannah’s face fell almost comically. “Oh.” She looked thoroughly disconcerted. “I had no idea.” She glanced at Helen. “I thought…”

“If I might ask, what, exactly, did you tell her?”

“Well, that you were here and alone, and having to make this dreadful decision of who to wed, and that if she came up, perhaps she might make your life easier, and, well…those sort of things.”

Royce inwardly groaned, then sighed through his teeth. “Never mind. I’ll speak with her and straighten things out.”

At least he now knew his instincts had been right; Helen wasn’t there to share just a night of passion. Thanks to Susannah’s poor phrasing, Helen now harbored higher aspirations.

He let Susannah, rather subdued, go and returned to Helen’s side, but had to wait until everyone else finally decided to retire to take her to a place where they could speak privately.

Leaving the drawing room at the rear of the crowd, he touched Helen’s arm, and indicated the corridor leading away from the hall. “This way.”

He led her to the library.

She passed through the door he held open for her, and came to a momentary halt; she was too experienced not to realize the significance of the venue. But then her spine straightened, and she walked further into the room. He followed and closed the door.

A candelabra on the mantelpiece was alight; a small fire blazed cheerily in the hearth. He waved Helen to the wingchair to one side of the hearth. She walked ahead of him to the fireplace, but then swung to face him, hands clasped before her, fingers twining.

She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand, staying her words.

“First, let me say that I was surprised to see you here—I had no idea Susannah had written to you.” Halting on the other side of the hearth, he held Helen’s blue gaze. “However, courtesy of what my sister wrote, I accept that you may be laboring under a misapprehension. To clarify matters—” He broke off, then let his lips twist cynically. “To be brutally frank, I’m currently negotiating for the hand of the lady I’ve chosen as my duchess, and am entirely uninterested in any dalliance.”

And if she’d thought she had any chance at a more permanent connection, she now knew better.

To give her her due, and as he’d expected, Helen absorbed the reality well. She was a natural survivor in their world. Her eyes on his face, she drew a long breath as she digested his words, then she inclined her head, her lips twisting in a rueful grimace. “Good Lord—how very…awkward.”

“Only as awkward as we wish to make it. No one will be surprised if we amicably part and move on.”

She thought, then nodded. “True.”

“I will, naturally, do everything within my power to ensure you’re not made uncomfortable while here, and I hope, in the future, you will continue to regard me as a friend.” He continued to hold her gaze, entirely confident she would understand the offer behind his words, and value it accordingly.

She didn’t disappoint him. She was far from stupid, and if she couldn’t have him as either lover or husband, then having him as a powerful, well-disposed acquaintance was the next best thing. Again she inclined her head, this time in a deeper obeisance. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She hesitated, then lifted her head. “If it would not inconvenience you, I believe I’ll remain for a few days—perhaps for the house party.”

He knew about saving face. “By all means.”

Their interview was at an end; he waved her to the door, falling in beside her as she walked down the room.

He halted before the door, waited until she looked at him. “If I might ask, was it purely distraction you came up to Northumberland to offer, or…?”

She smiled. “Susannah apparently believed I had some chance of becoming your duchess.” She met his eyes. “To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think it likely.”

“I apologize for Susannah—she’s younger than I, and doesn’t, in fact, know me as well as she thinks she does.”

Helen laughed. “No one knows you as well as they think they do.” She paused, then sm

iled—one of her gloriously charming smiles. “Good night, Royce. And good luck with your negotiations.”

Opening the door, she went out.