She turned as he passed below a wall sconce, the light from the flames licking over his features in flattering adoration. His deep brown eyes were as fathomless as ever, homing in on her with the weight of the immense emotion she imagined this man was capable of feeling if he ever let himself go.
“Max.”
He kept walking until there was only a foot of space between them. His size nearly blocked out the light, making her press a hand against the wall to hold herself steady. “I hoped to talk with you tonight, but there never seemed to be a moment when I could get away.”
She smiled. “You do seem to have your admirers.”
“As do you.” His smile was in his voice, as was a hint of jealousy.
“Why did you not tell me you were leaving for New York sooner than planned?” The question was out before she could think of a more tactful way to ask. It had been waiting there on her tongue for him all night.
He was silent for a moment, and though she couldn’t see his face very well now, she felt his study of her. It prickled over her cheek and settled on her mouth. Would one more kiss be acceptable? Would she still be able to walk away?
“You were happy, and I didn’t want to make you not happy.” It was a simple answer and one that made her breath catch in her throat.
“But we have so little time now.”
“Yes . . .”
She closed her eyes. He probably thought she was a feebleminded fool. She was rather starting to think that herself when it came to him.
“I brought this for you.”
He reached into his coat pocket and shifted so that he no longer blocked the light. The yellow glow filtered down between them, revealing a small velvet pouch. She gasped at the beauty of the ring he pulled out of it. It was a rose-cut sapphire set in gold with smaller diamonds surrounding it.
“Beautiful,” she whispered in awe.
“I wasn’t sure which stone you would prefer, and then I saw this one and it matched your eyes. I knew I’d found the one.”
She looked from the ring to him, certain that she would never hear a more perfect reason for selecting a piece of jewelry in her life. “You didn’t need to get me one.”
He shook his head, his brows coming together in a way that made her gaze revert to the ring lest she follow her own impulsive instinct and kiss him. “We already discussed this. I want you to have it. You can do whatever you like with it after.”
After. After she had no modicum of a claim to him. After, when he would find a proper wife for himself who could give him the children he wanted.
“Keep it or sell it and put the proceeds to your charity. It’s yours to do with what you want.”
“But I’m already benefiting from our arrangement. You saw the interest at the meeting.”
“Which Sir Phineas organized.” There was a bitter tinge of jealousy in his voice that she quite liked.
“Yes, he arranged it, but only after he knew about us.” She probably should have admitted that part earlier.
He cocked his head to the side as he studied her, prompting her to continue. “He stopped by the next morning, after our dinner, and we began talking about my plans. I may have told him that we were already secretly betrothed. It helped him to feel more confident lending his support. He also had another good laugh about our miscommunication.”
“That bastard.” But he was smiling, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “I hate to admit this, but I was afraid I hadn’t helped you at all.”
“Well, you did, so why don’t you keep the ring? You can give it to—” Her throat closed up before she could finish.
His brows drew together again, and he said, “There’s no one else I want to give a ring to.”
That didn’t help the lump in her throat at all, so she wasn’t able to say anything as he gently took her hand and pushed the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. His thumb traced around the gold band, sending pleasant sparks up her arm so that she was afraid to breathe in fear that they’d stop. She couldn’t look away from how he caressed her and how pretty the ring looked on her finger. Somehow, they’d drawn even closer without her realizing it. His coat brushed her arm with each intake of his breath, his exhale sending warm air past her temple. If only this were real.
“Helena,” he whispered.
Before she could stop herself, she leaned up, clasping his hand as she kissed him. He groaned in the back of his throat, and the sound vibrated inside her, sending need and desire flooding through her veins.
A high-pitched screech sent them dashing apart. Mrs. Crenshaw stood at the open door of the gaming room, a hand over her mouth to quell the sound. Light illuminated the entrance of the room, highlighting the color on her cheeks and the sheer joy on her face.
“Maxwell!” She hurried forward with murmurs of surprise and curiosity spilling from the room behind her. “Does this mean what I think it means?” she asked as she approached.
Max moved inward, putting his arm around Helena in a move that almost seemed protective. “Helena has agreed to be my wife.” He said it so matter-of-factly that she almost believed him. Thankfully, his mother did believe him.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Mrs. Crenshaw closed the distance and pulled Helena into her arms, overcome with excitement. “So wonderful. Welcome to the family.” She cupped Helena’s face in a maternal gesture before turning to her son and embracing him.
Overwhelming guilt almost moved Helena to protest, but then Max’s hand settled on her lower back, and he gave her a nod of encouragement. “Thank you, Mrs. Crenshaw,” she mumbled.
“Oh fee! Call me Millie, or perhaps one day you might prefer Mother.”
Helena was too stunned to answer, and by the time she recovered, other guests were trickling from the room and joining in the congratulations. Her parents followed, Papa looking as if he had expected the proposal all along. Smiling in rare approval, he ordered champagne brought up from the basement. She was thankful Lord and Lady Sansbury had retired for the evening before the gaming started. While she was certain gossip and her mother had prepared them for this eventuality, it would have seemed cruel to put on this part of the farce with them present.
The rest of the night passed in celebrations and toasts to their long and happy future together. Helena stood beside Max the entire time, not certain if this was how it felt to have her heart break all over again or if it was the guilt making her melancholy. It wasn’t until Mr. Crenshaw stood up after having been relegated to an overstuffed chair for much of the evening that she figured out which.
Glass of champagne in hand, he said, “I would like to formally welcome Lady Helena into our family.” He looked at her, and she gave a smile and an uncomfortable nod of acceptance, then he turned to the room at large. “We came to your great country not even a year ago with no real expectations, but in that time you have welcomed us, entertained us,” looking at Papa, he added, “offered us industry,” then gazing at his sons-in-law, he said, “given us two of your best sons so that they could become our sons. So that they could help carry on the legacy left to us by my father, Augustus Crenshaw, may his soul rest in peace. And now you have given to us one of your finest daughters. An angel among women who only seeks to make the world a better place than she found it. Her courage and compassion are admirable, and I can think of no finer woman to welcome into our family.” To Max, he said, “May God bless you with strong children to carry on the legacy of Crenshaw Iron Works.”