Marrying Winterborne (The Ravenels #2) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,121
of his hand on the back of her neck. “That man in the hallway . . . he works for you?”
“Now and then.”
“You hired him to follow me.”
“At first I hired him to follow Vance. I’d received word about some underhanded business he was involved in, and I had no intention of being duped by the bastard. To my surprise, I received a report that not only had Vance visited Ravenel House, but you and he met again the next day for a private chat at the museum.” A chilling pause. “I found it interesting that you didn’t see fit to mention it to me.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Helen countered.
“I wanted you to tell me. I gave you every chance that night at the store.”
She felt herself turning very red, as she remembered that night. Seeing her flush, Rhys looked mocking, but mercifully made no comment.
“But I didn’t,” Helen said. “So you told Mr. Ransom to follow me.”
“It seemed a good idea,” he agreed with knife-edged sarcasm. “Especially when you and Dr. Gibson decided to traipse through the East End docklands at night.”
“Did she tell you that Charity is Mr. Vance’s child?”
“No, Ransom bribed the orphanage matron. When I cornered Dr. Gibson to ask about it, she told me to go to hell.”
“Please don’t blame her—she only went because I told her I’d go by myself if she didn’t help me.”
For some reason, that broke through Rhys’s veneer of control. “Christ, Helen.” He turned away, seeming to hunt for something in the tiny office to destroy. “Tell me you wouldn’t have gone alone. Tell me, or I swear I’ll—”
“I wouldn’t have,” she said quickly. “And I didn’t. I took Dr. Gibson with me for safety.”
Rhys swung back to her with a lethal glare. His color had risen. “You say that as if she could provide anything close to adequate protection! The thought of you two skipping along Butcher Row through that crowd of whores and thieves—”
“No one was skipping,” Helen said indignantly. “I only went there because I had no choice. I had to make certain that Charity was safe, and . . . she wasn’t. The orphanage was unspeakable, and she was there because no one wanted her, but I do. I do, and I’m going to keep her and take care of her.”
His temper finally exploded. “Damn it, why? She’s not yours!”
“She’s my sister,” Helen blurted out, and a wracking sob escaped her.
Rhys turned ashen beneath his bronze complexion. Staring at her as if she were a stranger, he sat slowly on the edge of the desk.
“Vance and my mother—” Helen was forced to stop, coughing on a few more sobs.
There was nothing but silence in the tiny room.
It took a full minute before Helen could control her emotions enough to speak again. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to deceive you, but I didn’t know how to tell you after I found out. I’m so sorry.”
Rhys sounded sluggish and disoriented. “When did you find out?”
Helen told him the entire story—God, she was so tired of explaining it. She was hopeless and unflinching, like a condemned soul at her last confession. It was agony to cut every bond between them, one by one, word by word. But there was also relief in it. After this, there would be nothing left to fear.
Rhys kept his head lowered as he listened, his hands clamped on the desk with splintering pressure.
“I wanted just a little more time with you,” Helen finished, “before I ended the engagement. It was selfish of me. I should have told you right away. It’s only that—losing you felt like dying, and I couldn’t—” She stopped, appalled by how melodramatic that sounded, like a manipulation, even though it was the truth. In a moment, she managed to continue more calmly. “You’ll survive without me. She won’t. Obviously we can’t marry now. I think it would be for the best if I left England for good.”
She wished Rhys would say something. She wished he would look at her. She especially wished he wouldn’t breathe like that, with tautly controlled energy that made it seem as if something terrible were about to happen.
“You have it all decided, do you?” he finally asked, his head still bent.
“Yes. I’m going to take Charity to France. I can look after her there. You can go on with your life here, and I won’t be here to . . . to bother anyone.”