Tempting the Bride by Sherry Thomas Page A

only trying to restrain herself from saying anything foolish or compromising before Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Monteth. But with this show of seemingly hand-wringing mortification, no one could see that she was not wearing a wedding band.
    Mrs. Martin squared her shoulders. “Our apologies, Lord Hastings, Lady Hastings. We wish you much happiness in your union.”
    Mrs. Monteth still sputtered. “But—but—”
    Mrs. Martin took her by the arm and yanked her out. Hastings closed the door and leaned his weight against it.
    Helena counted to ten, to give the women time to walk down the passage, out of hearing. Then she counted to another ten.
    Eight. Nine. Ten.
    “Eloped?” she erupted, barely managing to keep her voice to a reasonable volume. “
Eloped?
What in the world caused you to say that? Have you lost your mind?”
    He looked incredulous—and none too pleased. “You wanted me to tell them that we were having an affair of our own?”
    “Yes!”
    His expression turned sober, then blank. “The resultwould have been exactly the same: I’d have to marry you. So I decided to spare us the scandal.”
    He did not
have
to marry her. Or rather, she would not have married him under any circumstances. “You can’t make such decisions for me.”
    “I’ve been telling you ever since you came back from America not to put me in this kind of situation.”
    “Nobody put you in anything.” Her voice rose with her exasperation. “You inserted yourself into the situation.”
    “And where would you and Mr. Martin be if I hadn’t come along?”
    She shivered. “The worst would have happened—I will admit that. But that doesn’t mean the two matters are related. To save Mr. Martin, we had to create an illusion that you, not he, were my lover. That was it—nothing more.”
    “To save
Mr. Martin
? What do I care about—” He stopped. “And what then? What do I tell Fitz?”
    “The truth, of course. Tell him Mr. Martin and I were ambushed by Mrs. Monteth, and to shield him we chose to make it look as if the two of
us
were meeting illicitly.”
    “And you think that would be the end of the matter? That Fitz would allow such a state of things to stand, for Society to believe his best friend and his sister are sleeping together, without doing something about it? He would have compelled me to offer for you.”
    “And I’d have gratefully declined your offer.
I
will deal with Fitz.
I
will deal with the consequences of my own actions. I do not need any man to save me and I particularly do not need you.”
    His voice hardened. “So you will become a fallen woman? As you so often like to remind everyone, thereisn’t just reputation to consider; there is also happiness. Do you not realize that you would not only tarnish your family’s reputation, but forever taint your brother’s and sister’s happiness? It doesn’t matter whether you stay in London and keep running your firm or repair to the country to rusticate; they could never be seen with you in public again, never talk about you, never let you see their future children except in utmost secrecy. And they would worry about you every hour of the day and pull their hair out over your obstinacy for the remainder of their natural lives. You would subject them to that?”
    The trap was closing about her. Her family was her Achilles’ heel. She did not fear consequences for herself, but she could not bear to hurt her loved ones.
    She thought she’d steeled herself for this moment—still she had to put a hand against the wall to keep herself upright. She wanted to rail against the unfairness of life: that he, with his debauchery and his illegitimate child living under his roof, was still accepted everywhere, but she, unless she accepted his suit, would suffer the harshest punishments for this one small overreach.
    But there was no point blaming the rules of the game when she’d known them all along.
    A timid knock came from the door of the bath. “May I come out