Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Helena awoke the next morning with joy in her heart and excitement in her lungs.
Well. So it was not only her sister who was to be married: here she had her own shipwrecked suitor, almost deposited in her very lap by the ocean, to have and to hold, for richer for poorer – and here she had to laugh, alone as she was in her bedroom.
He had been rich, and now he was poor, and she loved him – yes, she could admit to herself that she loved him – no matter the size of his purse.
After such an incredible day yesterday, baring her very soul to him, baring her body and allowing such sweet pleasures to overwhelm them both, Helena laid back in bed and thought of the life that they were to have together.
Not here; she did not want to stay any longer. Perhaps in a cottage, on the Duke of Caershire’s estate. They could dine every evening together, and surely the Duke and Pierre would have much to speak of. They were not so different, in their own ways.
Helena smiled. As long as none of the Duke’s family had fought France in the recent wars, they should be safe from politics!
A gentle stirring noise could be heard through the wall. He was awake. His strange gentlemanly standards had forbidden him from joining her in her bed last night, and she had to admit that he had looked a little strange. But then, the letter.
As the memories of the evening before seeped into her consciousness, Helena frowned.
The letter, tidings which she had assumed would revive his strangely low spirits, had done nothing but to increase them.
He had gone to bed early so low that her kiss and caress had been brushed aside, and she had felt piqued until the thought of such a letter from her own sister would have undoubtedly cast her own spirits down.
But now, and Helena smiled and rose from her bed, it was a new day. A day in which they could start planning their live together – a day of joy, and merriment, and excitement!
When would they marry? Helena wondered as she silently dressed.
Not too close to her sister, she hoped, otherwise there would be a mighty fine confusion.
Perhaps in two months; that would give the Duke and Duchess – and she could not but laugh as she traipsed down the stairs at the thought of her sister, a duchess! – time for their honeymoon.
“Oh!” She cried as she entered the parlour. She had thought herself quite alone in being awake so early, and yet there he was. “Good morning, Pierre!”
She crossed the room lightly, and kissed him full on the mouth – and found to her joy that he reciprocated with a strength of ardour that almost took her breath away.
When they broke apart, they were both panting slightly out of breath, and Pierre was smiling. “Now that is a wonderful way to greet the morning.”
Helena laughed. “Well, you may as well get used to it!”
Bustling through to the kitchen to start the tea, she heard Pierre say, “Ah, it will be a painful thing to leave you, my dear Helena.”
At first, the words did not entirely register in her mind: so concerned was she with fetching some water, considering what victuals she would need to purchase that day – and if only Mrs Montgomery could be persuaded to exchange some of her mending for eggs, they would have a very pretty meal – that the meaning of Pierre’s words did not sink in.
“Leave?” She called through vaguely. “When will you be back?”
Footsteps told her that Pierre had moved through to the kitchen, but she did not turn to face him until he said, “Back?”
Helena stared at him, and blinked. “Yes, back. It would be much easier for me to ascertain what to tell my father, and exactly how much food to buy, and those sorts of things, if I knew how long you were to be gone for.”
It was only then that she noticed a strange sadness in the smile that broke across his face, and it caused her heart to twinge.
“Helena,” Pierre said gently, taking her hands in his. “I am most grateful for the kind attentions that you have bestowed on me, I truly am, and I will happily admit that I probably would have perished, out there on that beach, or here in the depths of my fever, if you had not been my rescuer – ”
A sense of foreboding crept across her heart, and Helena started to understand his meaning. “Pierre, you cannot mean – surely you are not trying to tell me that – ”
“ – but as for staying here,” Pierre said gently with a low laugh. “You must see that it is impossible. I need to find my sister – ascertain, I suppose, whether she is truly alive – and then we, my sister and I, will try to see what sort of life we can build for ourselves.”
“I will come with you,” Helena said immediately, feeling the warmth in his hands and not understanding why he wanted to undertake such a journey alone. “After all, why should a man travel without his wife?”
There was a moment of stillness in the air that hung between them for well over a minute. Helena did not wish to break it, so delicate it seemed to be, and Pierre just stood before her, open mouthed, her hands still in his.
Finally, he broke the silence by saying in a choked voice, “Wife?”
She broke free of his grip, and gathered her hands together nervously. “Of course. I know that we cannot be married overly soon, it will take time – and to be frank, I would much love to have your sister there, so we will need to find her first before we – ”
“Wife,” Pierre repeated, interrupting her. Helena saw that his cheeks were pale, and his brows furrowed. “Wife.”
Pierre gazed at her, horrified.
Helena was nodding, but less certainly than she had but minutes before. “Why, of course.”
“But Helena – I have made you no promises,” he said hoarsely. “Indeed, I have been in great care to ensure that I do not!”
The horror in his own heart was now matched on the beautiful face before him. “Great care to ensure? Why, Pierre, you have given such assurances of your affection that I have been slightly overwhelmed by it! How can you tell me that you have made no promises?”
Pierre took a few steps back, and then turned to walk into the parlour. He wracked his brains hurriedly: had he made any such declaration? Had the word love ever passed his lips?
“It was not so formally done,” said Helena quietly, just behind him. “And yet surely no one could have believed any differently from the way that we have been together. Why, Pierre, when we made love in your boat – ”
“I said nothing of marriage!” Pierre interrupted, though the vision of Helena in a pale blue dress at the altar of his family church now flashed before his mind, and it pained him to think how right it was. No, he had nothing to offer her, he could not possibly offer such a union!
“I gave you myself!” Helena’s voice was slightly raised now, still gentle, but firm, with a grip of iron on her emotions, it was clear to see. “Do you think that I offer such intimacy to everyone that I rescue?”
Pierre laughed at the very thought of his good Helena doing such a thing, but it did not calm her feelings.
“Do not laugh at me!” She stepped forward with such intention that Pierre quickly took a step back. “The intimacy that we have shared has been enough of a statement, Pierre d'épilucon. Do you think I would have allowed you to make love to me if I had not thought marriage was truly in your heart?”
Her voice broke at the end of her statement, and a little part of Pierre’s heart broke too. Had he really been so callous as to think that Helena would be strong enough, or cold enough, as he was? To enjoy the pleasures of the flesh without expecting anything in return?
“Helena – my only, my one, my sweetest Helena.”
That was what he had said to her – and in that moment of passion and adoration of her body, he had meant it!
Only now could he see the way that Helena could have heard those words, and heard wedding bells.
“I…I have made no promises,” he repeated, as though it were a piece of flotsam on the ocean that he was clinging to for dear life. “Helena, you must understand that I have intense affection for you, but to offer you marriage…it is not in my power to do so.”
There was real pain on her features now, genuine and heart-breaking. He was breaking her heart, and Pierre hated himself for it – but what had he to offer her? A life on the road, in hiding, in desperate looking for a woman that may no longer live?
“I see,” she said, dropping into a chair with such dull tones that bile rose in his throat.
“I see now. I was just a distraction. A way to waste time until you heard from your sister. A chance for you to take your pleasure. Fortunate for you that I have no one to protect me, to fight for my honour here – for if I had a brother, he would surely challenge you, monsieur, to do what is right! And perhaps when my sister is married, Alexander will do just that!”
A flicker of anger sparked in his soul now as Pierre glared at the woman who both infuriated him and soothed him.
“Ah, happy for you that you have such connections!” The bitterness was impossible to remove from his voice, and he hated himself as he saw Helena flinch.
“You have a sister living, safe and sound, protected and unafraid of the world around her. Would that I could claim such joy too!”
“Why cannot you see that you can have both – you do not have to choose between us! ‘Tis not your sister before you, but a woman who loves you!” Helena cried out with tears in her eyes, almost as though she could not stop herself. “Why not think of her, for a moment? We could find Giselle together!”
“‘Tis too dangerous! And how can I even trust you – where is this father that you keep talking about? Why have my jewels been taken from my possession, why have you been going through my possessions?”
“My father is a drunk!” Helena shot back at him, her cheeks pink. “You think I would not like to know where he is? ‘Tis no fault of mine if he disappears for weeks at a time, and as for your jewels – ”