He smiled. Was it wrong to feel pleased she wasn’t casual about allowing him in her bed? “No one will see me. I know when to practice caution.”
She shook her head. “No.” She scooted farther away, her eyes darting as if searching for an escape. “We agreed you wouldn’t come to my town house again. It’s a bad idea. Lady Bellwyn’s garden party is tomorrow. We will see each other then.”
“Along with a hundred other guests. How am I to get you alone at a garden party?”
“You aren’t.” She hopped from the bench. “I am sorry, Sebastian. I—I don’t think I can do this.”
She lifted the hem of her skirts and ran.
***
Helena tried to stay ahead of the panic, but it threatened to overtake her as she neared the Norwicks’ home. How had she gone from supremely put out with Sebastian to nearly allowing him to bed her? In a stranger’s garden, no less. And it was daylight, for pity’s sake.
Slumping against the terrace railing, she tried to catch her breath. She curled inward, her shame too heavy for her shoulders. If one kiss made her forget herself, what would happen if she allowed him in her bed? She would become hopelessly dotty and perhaps follow him around like a pup. Not only would that be undignified, falling in love with him would ruin her plans.
She must stay strong and focused on her goal. Providing a home for her sisters and a future for Gracie was the highest priority, and becoming involved with another man who might interfere with that goal was unacceptable. She didn’t judge Sebastian to be anything like her late husband, but all men expected to be in control, and the risk was too great. Barring Sebastian from her house and bed was the wisest course, even if she wanted him there desperately.
Taking a fortifying breath, she straightened and patted her hair. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the windows. The run-in with the baron hadn’t left her nearly as disorderly on the outside as it had inside. She approached the French door and entered the great room with what she hoped was a calm smile.
Eve looked up from the kettledrum where she was standing with Sir Jonathan. “Come watch, Helena. Sir Jonathan is teaching me to play.”
She pounded out a rhythm as the gentleman nodded. “Perfect, Miss Thorne. You’ve a natural talent for drumming.”
Eve beamed in response to his praise.
“I am impressed.” Helena joined them and tried to focus as Eve chattered about all she had learned from the baronet on Mesopotamia, priestesses, and gods Helena had never heard of.
Helena swore the man issued a dreamy sigh when he gazed at Eve. It seemed the poor man was love struck. He likely had it as bad for Eve as Helena did for Sebastian, which made her feel a sort of kinship with him.
The gentleman moved closer to Eve’s side. “Shall I show you the thumb roll?”
“That would be splendid.”
Helena took a seat to oversee the lesson, feeling rather neglectful for having left Eve unsupervised earlier. A movement from the corner of her eye caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. It had to be Sebastian returning, but she forced herself not to look.
Eve brightened. “Where have you been? Sir Jonathan has been teaching me to drum and you’ve been missing all the fun.”
Sebastian’s deep laugh washed over Helena and filled her with that same blasted longing she’d run from. Without asking permission, he slipped into the chair beside her. “I suppose that depends on one’s definition of fun,” he murmured. “Isn’t that correct, Lady Prestwick?”
Helena shot him a quelling look, but he only raised a brow as if challenging her to contradict him. She snapped her gaze forward, her hands gripping the arms of the chair.
What was he doing? She had essentially told him she wouldn’t become involved with him and he acted as if they hadn’t spoken.
“I don’t understand you,” she whispered. “I told you there can be nothing between us.”
“I fully support a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.” He leaned back in the chair, extending his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “And I’m told I can be persuasive.”
“Have you also heard you are arrogant?”