A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,66

on to your worries.”

“More than the money?” she repeated. She reached out and put a gloved hand on his biceps.

He nodded. The worry in his brown eyes cracked her heart. He said grimly, “More than the money.”

Helena nodded. His expression said, Leave it. For the moment, she would leave it. She held his arm, digging her fingers in. She wanted to rip the yellow sleeve from his tunic and lash him with it. But she did not press.

“But . . . mostly this is about my rank?” she asked quietly. She let her hand slide away.

“The differences in our lives are colossal, Helena. No matter how well we get on.”

“If you were the son of an earl and I was, say . . . the governess or a nursemaid, would you proclaim it impossible for us to . . . enmesh?”

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” he said. “Nor is it our situation.”

“Perhaps not, but I am one-half of our collaboration, and I’ve been completely honest with you from our very first meeting—”

“Too honest.”

“—and so I’ll be completely honest with you now. I do not subscribe to your fears about the future. Not about you being a mercenary and myself an heiress, and not about being blinded by adventure. But even if I was afraid—which I am not—I would never allow fear to stand in the way of . . . of our potential. I hope I do not overstep by saying that I believe we hold very great potential.”

“And what if I said that I am the other half of this collaboration, and I have an opposing view?”

“I would say that I am the person on the receiving end of your rejection, and I don’t like it.”

“That is the heiress talking, giving an order—pronouncing what she wants.”

“I will say what I want,” she countered. “You’ve not found issue with this until now, and here is my point. If something about me—my outspokenness, my tendency to march people around, my small feet, my black hair . . .” she grabbed her braids with both hands, “. . . is not to your liking, then fine, say this and detach yourself. I can accept actual rejection if it is founded in distaste. But I cannot abide the other way.”

“Helena,” he sighed, “wouldn’t you like to fall in love with a reasonable gentleman, someone who can provide you with the sort of life to which you were born? Who will inherit a beautiful home and pass it on to your children? Who will see them properly educated and guarantee their standing in the world? Not every aristocrat is as pitiful as Lusk. I’ve served in battle with many honorable, decent men of rank. You’ve never had the opportunity to meet a reasonable gentleman.”

“I don’t want a reasonable gentleman,” she said, stooping to snatch the potted apple. In her head, she finished, I want you.

She wouldn’t say it. She’d said enough—too much. But at least now she knew. He was not angry or disinterested, he simply could not see a way out.

Helena had spent her entire adult life searching for ways out. There was always a way.

She took a deep breath. “Look, I do not mean to dismiss your worry for my future or your esteemed plans for my children, but I reject your caution. And I reject your rejection.”

“I didn’t reject you, Helena.”

“You tried to, and I cannot accept it.” She stepped around him and then turned back. “But one thing at a time, shall we? First, I must consider this poor girl and dangle the dukedom in front of her. If I can foist Lusk off on someone else and not hate myself for it, dealing with your fear of heiresses will be a summer’s day.”

And then she whirled around and strode to the door of the museum.

Declan forced himself to be vigilant in the dark catacombs of the British Museum. His brain was in a fog. Helena wound her way through windowless corridors and up dim stairwells, the black smoke of lanterns snaking to the ceiling. His thoughts traveled a similar circuitous path.

What had just happened?

He’d begun the day indignant and determined to put her at arm’s length. Now he was spouting declarations about days and nights and dreams—and it was almost as if he’d issued a challenge to her. He’d all but dared her to believe in a future together.

At least he’d not told her about the threat of prison. If their plan didn’t work, or if