Her body heated at his playful teasing. If only she could forget about everything and become lost with him… But she couldn’t allow him to distract her further or she would never do the right thing.
Easing from his embrace, she folded her trembling hands in her lap. “I had hoped for a moment alone with you tonight.” His grin widened and she added, “To talk.”
He opened the curtain more on his side to allow light from the carriage lamp to spill into the interior. “Our wishes are in perfect alignment. I want to talk to you, too, but ladies first.” He winked. “Later, we can continue what we started.”
She frowned. There wouldn’t be a later for them. “I’ve something to tell you, but I don’t know where to begin.”
He turned toward her and folded his hands in his lap, imitating her. His playfulness disappeared. “You can tell me anything, angel.”
She blinked against the burn of impending tears. “I am no angel.” This felt like the only truth she had ever told him. “I am a nobody. A blacksmith’s daughter.”
His brows twitched, but otherwise his expression remained neutral. She rushed on before she lost courage.
“My father was a gambler, and a very poor one at that. He lost everything. Every shilling he made. His tools, so he couldn’t earn anything. Our home. If not for Mama, we would have been tossed on the streets, but she arranged with the new deed-holder to allow us to stay. She took in sewing, cleaned for our neighbors. Anything to keep a roof over our heads. I’m certain we would have starved, but she was a good provider.”
A dark frown marred his face, but he didn’t speak.
She moistened her dry lips. “W-we were managing well enough while Mama was alive. I helped by caring for my younger siblings and keeping up our house. We had a maid for a time when I was much younger, but Mama let her go when we didn’t have the funds to pay her. I don’t think Father ever noticed Betsy was gone.”
“How many siblings?”
She started. “There are five of us. Mama didn’t live long after Gracie was born. She died of childbed fever. I did my best to take her place. She had taught me to sew and I knew how to budget. I was making a decent go of it, too, until—”
Her voice broke as memories of that day she left her family flooded her. Sebastian wrapped his arms around her and tears slipped from her tightly closed eyes. “Dear God, Helena. This is much worse than I imagined.”
“I know. I’m so sorry I let you believe I was a lady. I understand why you can’t have anything more to do with me. If someone finds out…”
He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “Your past doesn’t concern me, sweetheart, and you are a lady. You married a lord and nothing can change the fact you are Viscountess Prestwick.”
“But my father—”
“Is a blackguard and I will meet him with more than a leather glove if we ever cross paths.”
“You won’t cross paths. Fergus and I returned to my home when we first arrived to Town. A neighbor’s elderly mother remembered my family and said my father died. She didn’t know what had become of my sisters, but her son pulled me aside and said he’d heard talk that Lavinia moved to Whitechapel.” His image blurred as tears filled her eyes. “Lavinia is my sister. My sister is a whore.”
The word filled her with shame. She should have fought to stay instead of begging for Prestwick’s mercy. Her pleas had meant nothing to him.
Say your good-byes, Miss Kendrick. We’ve a long day of travel ahead.
Her sister Cora had charged him. You can’t have my sister. Her child’s fists pounded against him, likely hurting herself more than him.
He’d held Cora at arm’s length. I promise to take good care of your sister, little one, but she is not safe here.
Lord Prestwick’s glare had skewered their father. Father had ducked his head and grabbed for Cora, his fingers digging into her shoulders as she struggled to break free. A storm had brewed in their father’s eyes, causing Helena to hold her breath, silently pleading with him not to hurt Cora again.
Go with him, Father had barked. He owns you, girl.