An Impossible Confession (24 page)

She didn’t know why she was walking to the clearing where Adam had so finally spurned her, but her steps just took her there. The grass was wet with dew, and as she looked toward the water, she saw the pleasure boat where he’d waited for her the night before. Her skirts dragged through the grass as she walked down
to the shore, and the boat swayed a little as she stepped inside. The cushions scattered on the boards were faintly damp, but she didn’t notice as she sat down on them, reaching up to undo the ribbon in her hair. Shaking the long tresses loose, she closed her tired eyes, bowing her head so that her hair tumbled forward over her
shoulders
.

She wept silently, her face hidden from the world. She didn’t hear the curricle drive up to the boathouse, or the brief exchange of voices, she knew nothing until the boat swayed suddenly, and she looked up to see Adam stepping aboard.

In Herne’s Glade he’d discarded his coat and waistcoat for the duel, and he’d left them behind now. His shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, and his cravat hung loose. He wore no gloves or top hat, and his black hair was windswept from the speed with which he’d driven. His gleaming top boots were as impeccable as ever, marked only with the moisture from the grass.

She stared up at him for a moment, and then turned wretchedly away. ‘Please leave me alone, we have nothing more to say to each other.’

‘On the contrary, there’s much to be said.’ His gaze moved over her, taking in the cascade of honey-colored hair and the way her shoulders trembled as she strove to hide her misery.

‘I think you said it all last night, Adam,’ she said quietly. ‘You made yourself very clear indeed then.’

‘I was wrong.’

‘You were still prepared to believe it of me.’

‘Had you given me reason to trust your word?’

She bit her lip, blinking back fresh tears. ‘No.’ Her voice was barely audible.

‘We have to talk, Helen.’

Taking a deep breath, she managed to nod, closing her eyes again as he got down on the cushions beside her, lounging back with that effortless grace that was so much his mark. His very closeness made her tremble still more, for in spite of everything her senses betrayed her. She still wanted him so much, still needed him so much; still loved him so much….

He looked at her. ‘Helen, you aren’t the only one with
confessions
to make, I have some of my own. I’m ashamed of myself for treating you as I did right here last night, and in mitigation I can
only say that I was driven by anger at learning your real identity and I was bitterly jealous that you’d apparently given to Ralph St John that which I so dearly craved myself.’

She swallowed, gazing at the prow of the boat without really seeing it. ‘If that was how you felt about me, why didn’t you just show Ralph’s letter to Gregory when he confronted you? Why did you let him believe you had tried to seduce me?’

‘A gentleman doesn’t tell tales on a lady, least of all on the lady he loves, even if she has apparently betrayed that love.’

Slowly she looked at him. ‘Loves? You said
loves
,’ she
whispered
.

‘Oh, yes, Helen, I love you; I think I’ve loved you from the moment I plucked you from beneath that stagecoach at the Cat and Fiddle.’ He smiled, reaching up to brush his fingers against her cheek. ‘I held you close in those brief moments and it was a
sensation
I more than enjoyed. A sensation I enjoyed still more, was kissing you on the lips just before I left. You were so adorably
original
, so refreshingly different, that I knew I had to see you again. You proved tantalizingly enigmatic, my mysterious Mrs Brown, and each time we met, you made more certain of my complete subjection.’

She stared at him. ‘You – you still love me?’ she breathed.

‘With all my base male heart.’ He reached up to brush his
fingertips
against her cheek. ‘Can you forgive me for saying those things to you last night?’

Her senses were reeling. ‘If – if you forgive me for deceiving you.’

He drew her down to the cushions. ‘Oh, my darling, you’re forgiven a thousand times over.’

Her whole body was alive to him. ‘I tried to tell you,’ she
whispered
, tears of utter joy filling her eyes.

‘My poor darling,’ he said softly, ‘for it was a quite impossible confession.’ He leaned over her, running his fingers softly through her hair.

She closed her eyes as he bent to put his lips to her throat, and desire stirred richly through her. ‘A totally impossible confession,’ she breathed, submitting to the enticing warmth that was
enveloping
her.

‘Look at me, Helen.’

Slowly she opened her eyes, gazing up at him.

‘I have one last thing to ask of you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Will you marry me?’

Her heart soared. ‘Do you really want me?’ she whispered.

‘Oh, what a foolish question,’ he murmured, bending his head to kiss her.

Her lips parted beneath his, and an unbelievable happiness sang in her heart. She didn’t need to give him an answer, he knew by the warmth and ardor of her response that she was his.

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