Prowling behind him, Helena skimmed her fingers along his shoulders before lowering herself into the slightly worn silk armchair closest to him.
‘What brings you here today?’ she asked, reclining back. ‘You left rather abruptly the other day.’ She tipped her chin towards the box on his lap. ‘Is that your way of apologising?’
He handed her the blue velvet box. ‘It is...for a number of things...’
A look of confusion crossed her face before she slid her hand up his thigh. ‘I hope you will stay longer today, so I may thank you properly.’
The boldness of her gesture forced him to shift in his chair. He nodded towards the package in her hand, relieved to know that she was easily distracted by expensive objects. ‘Open it.’
Her eyes sparkled with eager anticipation as she lifted the lid. Slowly she pulled out the long strand of pearls and arranged them between her breasts, which were suddenly exposed through her open dressing gown.
He wished he could tell her she was wasting her efforts on him. ‘They suit you,’ he said. It was as much of a compliment as he could muster.
‘They are beautiful,’ she said, more interested in the pearls than in Julian. ‘They will go well with the new gown I have ordered from Madame Devy. Perhaps we could attend Drury Lane or Vauxhall, and I will wear them for you.’ She finally looked up at him. ‘I know how you dislike attracting attention, but I think we will turn some heads.’
Julian’s jaw clenched as he studied his brown leather gloves. ‘Helena, there is something I need to ask you.’ He turned his attention to her expectant expression. ‘You are aware that I have a deep regard for you?’
She smiled up at him. ‘I am.’
‘Well... I was wondering if you are content with the state of our friendship?’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘When we began this liaison both of us knew it could not continue indefinitely the way it is.’
‘That is true,’ she said through a seductive smile. The scent of lavender filled the air as she leaned in closer.
‘And we both entered into this with a mutual understanding that eventually we would part ways.’
Her mouth fell open. ‘You are ending this?’
‘While I have enjoyed our time together, surely you knew that it would not last?’
‘I cannot believe you are doing this,’ she whispered. The sound of her heavy breathing mingled with the ticking of the clock. She jumped from her chair and poked him in the chest—hard. ‘Lord Hartwick is behind this.’
He pulled his brows together in puzzlement. ‘He has nothing to do with this.’
‘Then there is another woman.’ She eyed him up and down in disgust. ‘Have you offered for Morley’s chit? Your mother acts as if an announcement will be made any day.’
‘I have not offered for her. There is no other woman.’ She didn’t need to know the truth.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded, clenching her fists at her sides.
‘I did not think you would be upset. You told me you had no intention of marrying again,’ he stated firmly.
‘And you believed me?’ she screamed. She stormed across the room with her head high, and then spun around. ‘And you give me pearls? We have been together all this time and you give me pearls!’
‘What is wrong with pearls? They are quite expensive.’
Her body visibly shook with rage. ‘You are the Duke of Lyonsdale! You should be giving me diamonds!’
His sympathy for her was quickly diminishing upon seeing her greedy nature. ‘I did not have to give you anything!’ he bellowed.
‘You selfish boor!’ She picked up a silver candlestick from the table closest to her and flung it at his head.
He ducked just in time.
‘I am worth diamonds—not pearls!’
Before his control slipped further he needed to leave. Striding across the room, he unlocked the door and didn’t look back.
When he stepped outside the soft breeze cooled his heated skin. His body hummed with anger at her selfishness. Sitting in his carriage would do him no good. He needed physical exertion. He would walk home—but first he needed to make one more stop.
Descending the staircase in the centre of Hatchards, Katrina scanned the room below her. This bookshop was one of her favourite places in London. The soft whispers and the occasional sound of the turning of pages were welcome after spending the entire morning on social calls with Mrs Forrester and Sarah.
As she continued to search for her maid Katrina let her gaze skim over the few patrons who were selecting books from the dark wooden bookshelves that lined the walls. An older woman in an elaborately decorated black hat was comparing books with a younger woman dressed demurely in lavender. Near them a dandy dressed in a navy jacket and puce trousers stood in a studied pose, reading the book he held through his quizzing glass.
Scanning the room further, Katrina felt her heart skip a beat. Standing near her maid, at a table piled with books, stood a broad-shouldered, dark-haired gentleman in a finely cut bottle-green coat, buckskin breeches and top boots. Was her time in London destined to be cursed with the presence of the rude Englishman from the Russian Ambassador’s ball?
Katrina hesitated on the staircase, wondering if she should turn around and go back upstairs before he spotted her. Suddenly he lifted his head, as if sensing her gaze, and their eyes met. She could not turn back now. Taking a breath, she gripped the wooden banister and proceeded to slowly walk down the stairs towards Meg.
Katrina picked up the first volume of Frankenstein and thumbed through the pages. ‘Have you found anything of interest?’ she asked Meg.
Her maid smiled and showed Katrina the book in her hand.
‘I do not believe Clarissa is an appropriate choice for you,’ Katrina said.
‘I’ve heard it’s scandalous, and I’m hoping they have it at the lending library. The heroine is told to marry an unappealing gentleman and then is tricked into running away by a rake. I bet there is a dungeon in the story. I love a story that takes place in a dungeon.’ Meg sighed and then glanced inquisitively at the book in Katrina’s hand.
Taking into account her maid’s vivid imagination, Katrina quickly placed Frankenstein back on the table. ‘I’m well aware of the plot. You do know you can borrow any of my books?’
‘Do they have dungeons, kidnappings, evil earls or ghosts?’
‘No.’
‘Then why do you think I would want to read them?’ Meg asked, wrinkling her brow.
There was a deep laugh from across the table. Keeping her head averted under the rim of her bonnet, Katrina blocked her view of the gentleman across the table. Searching for a more appropriate novel, Katrina spotted a copy of her father’s book. As she reached for it her hand brushed against a strong hand encased in a brown leather glove. Startled, she looked up.
‘We meet again,’ the annoying Englishman said.
No, we don’t, because you are too rude to seek an introduction!
Katrina took a breath to compose herself before she spoke. ‘So it would seem.’
‘Forgive me. I believe that is the book I have been searching for.’
‘This book?’ Katrina asked, holding it up to show him the title on the spine.
‘Yes,