She pulled away, her breath coming in a rush. She looked stunned, as if she hadn’t expected to do that. A hand went to her chest as the other came up to steady herself against the window. He stepped back to allow her space.
“Maxwell . . . I . . . I didn’t—” She closed her mouth as the newcomers wandered over to the windows.
The group gave them a cursory glance before continuing their rather loud conversation at the end of the aisle. Without saying another word, she hurried around him and exited at the other end. He could hear her heels on the stone tiled floor as she made her way down the next aisle and left the conservatory. He was almost glad for her hasty departure so that he could deal with his own visceral reaction to her. To lose hold of himself in public like that was not something that happened to him. He felt as if he were in over his head for the first time in his life.
Chapter 9
I think people really marry far too much; it is such a lottery after all, and for a poor woman a very doubtful happiness.
Queen Victoria
Thank you so much for coming on short notice, dear.” Helena met Violet in the entrance hall of her townhome. Huxley closed the door behind her friend and accepted her coat.
Violet smiled, nearly bursting with joy from the looks of her as she tugged off her gloves and handed them over to the butler. “Thank you for inviting us. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a few minutes early, but I hoped to beat Max and August so we could chat.”
The sheer happiness all but exuding from Violet’s pores was the exact reason Helena had invited Violet, August, and Maxwell over for tea today. She didn’t want his sisters to get the wrong idea about the state of her and their brother’s relationship and be hurt. Inviting them all for tea so they could explain had seemed the best way to handle things, even though the last thing she wanted was to see Maxwell so soon after that kiss last night.
She still didn’t understand what had possessed her to kiss him.
Taking her friend’s hands and giving them a loving squeeze, she noted the ink stains on some of her fingers. Jumping on this topic to delay the inevitable, she asked, “How is your manuscript coming along?” Violet was a writer who would soon have her first work serialized in a publication based in America.
“Good, but slow. I’m a little anxious about how my work will be received come January, which is playing havoc with my creativity. That’s to be expected I suppose, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Helena sighed inwardly as she led her friend to the drawing room. Perhaps it would be best just to blurt out the fact that her relationship with Maxwell was a fabrication. “I’m afraid that I know why you want to chat, and I have to confess that it isn’t at all what you hope.”
Violet gave her a puzzled look at they stepped into the drawing room. “You mean you haven’t heard back yet from Sir Phineas?”
Helena’s mind went blank for a moment as she had been taken entirely off guard. She had been certain that Violet meant to ask about their display last night, that she might have even heard about their ill-advised kiss. The conservatory hadn’t been exactly private. Fumbling her words to start, she managed to say, “You mean the building? The priory?”
“Yes, of course that’s what I mean.” Then Violet smiled knowingly and wagged her eyebrows. “What did you think I meant?”
Helena laughed despite herself. “You know very well that I thought you were going to ask about your brother and last night.”
“I do want to ask, but since you invited the three of us today, I can only assume you mean to address it with everyone present.”
“Right you are. Best to discuss that once everyone is here.” Helena crossed to the settee and indicated that Violet should join her. When they were both settled, she said, “Unfortunately, I do not have very promising news. Sir Phineas doesn’t seem to be inclined to make any sort of immediate determination regarding the property.”
“What did he say?”
“His letter was short. He merely conveyed his thanks in my contacting him. He says that he will look over the proposal that I sent, and he is currently entertaining several offers.”
“Several offers? Oh no, this will not do.” Violet rose and began pacing. “That sort of interest will drive the price higher.”
Helena sighed. That was precisely her fear. Multiple parties could only mean that they would all eventually end up bidding against one another. She could not waste the charity’s limited resources by expending them on the purchase price alone, not with the refurbishments needed, which meant it was very likely that they would lose the priory. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re correct. I sent a letter in reply all but begging for a chance to meet him in person and plead our case. Obviously, I haven’t heard back yet, but I’ll let you know the moment I do.”
“I hope he will at least hear you out. I’ll have Christian contact him as well. He mentioned that he had met Sir Phineas some years ago and offered to speak to him. Perhaps with Christian’s support, he can be persuaded to acquiesce.”
“Thank you, Violet. That would be most helpful.” She didn’t hold out much hope of it swaying the gentleman, however.
Violet nodded. “You know how much this charity is coming to mean to me. I could do nothing less.”
The sound of the front door opening had Helena on her feet again. Butterflies swirled in her belly as she heard Maxwell’s deep voice. A moment later, he and August appeared in the doorway. Helena was reminded of the first time she had seen him in that very spot, and all of her impressions from that day came back—his impressive height and breadth, the force of his sheer presence—only now she knew what it was like to feel his lips on hers.
His gaze met hers, and the power of it nearly sent her sinking back down to the settee. The intensity and the way it drifted quickly down to her mouth before he looked at Violet was the only acknowledgment from him that the kiss had happened. If a simple kiss that hadn’t even been particularly long or deep could do this to her, what would making love to him be like? She admonished herself as soon as the thought crossed her mind, but it was far too late to stop the heat rising in her face.
“August.” She forced herself to greet them in turn. “Mr. Crenshaw. It’s so good of you both to come on short notice.”
“I must say that my insatiable curiosity would have had me here sooner if your note hadn’t specified four o’clock,” August said.
Mrs. Huxley walked in with a tea tray followed a moment later by Huxley, who carried another tray laden with sandwiches, small cakes, and petits fours. They all settled themselves as Helena poured the tea. It wasn’t until the servants left them alone that Helena took a sip of hers and cleared her throat, trying and failing to dissolve the lump that had grown there. Why was it so difficult to come forward with what they were doing?