That was the reason Andrew had written her to cry off their affair, citing the perils to her reputation and whatnot.
“He was very kind about it, but he is right, Helena. What we were doing was terribly dangerous. And I’d never be able to live with myself if I damaged your good name.”
So Fitz had known—and Venetia and Millie, too—all this while. If anyone could be said to be the party responsible for the affair, it was her, yet he had chosen to go behind her and speak with Andrew instead. They’d made decisions for her while leaving her in the dark, as if she were a child, when she was barely fifteen minutes younger than Fitz—and to her face they’d pretended nothing was happening, as if one of the most significant choices of her life was but so much rubbish to be swept under the rug.
“My good name, is that all anyone can think of? I thought we’d already agreed that there is more to life than reputation. I thought we’d agreed that happiness was worth a risk or two.”
“I do agree still. But that was before we were found out. Thank goodness it was only your brother. Had it been anyone else—I can’t even conceive of the consequences.”
Damn Hastings. He must have told Fitz after all.
“Do you really not want to see me ever again?”
“Helena.” Andrew’s voice shook just perceptibly. “You know I would give anything to see you, but I promised your brother—”
“Is your promise to him more important than your promises to me?”
Andrew winced. “I—”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Susie coming back. “You will meet me again. Because you will not let me down and you will not leave me without hope.”
She turned and walked away before Susie could come too close.
Only to see Hastings fifteen feet away, an expression of mild interest on his face. He’d seen her and Andrew together. She did not bother coming up with a task, but only told Susie, when the latter reached her, that she was going for a private word with Lord Hastings.
Before she could excoriate him for breaking his word, however, he said, “I didn’t tell Fitz the identity of your lover. In fact, he punched me in the face when he realized that I hadn’t told him everything.”
“Then, who did?”
“Give members of your family some credit. Do you think they do not remember that you were in love with him? Do you believe they cannot put two and two together? And don’t forgot all those love letters that arrived by the bushel from your beloved. They only needed to stumble upon one to learn his identity.”
There had been the one letter she could not account for after her return from America. “Why didn’t they say anything to me?”
“Probably because they knew you wouldn’t listen to reason.”
“That is pure hog swill.”
“Would you have listened to them?”
“They would have tried to persuade me with conventional thinking—not at all the same as reason. Not all of us live by the same logic.”
“Yet you still have to abide by the same set of rules as the rest of them. The consequences won’t be any different for you.”
“You say it as if I don’t know what the consequences are.”
“You know exactly what the consequences are. But you don’t believe they could happen to you.”
“And why should they? I have been rigorously careful.”
“Have you? Three nights at Huntington I observed you come and go from your assignations—you didn’t notice a thing. On the last night, another couple on their secret rendezvous was headed right in your direction. I had to divert them. After that I had no choice but to speak to your family.”
She had not known this, but still her ire rose. “And bilk a kiss from me besides.”
“For someone who deals with writers, you should choose your words with greater care.” He smirked. “I came by my kiss honestly.”
The lecher.
“And how do you like my book? Does it not astound you with its literary finesse?”
“We are talking about smut with dirty drawings.”
“Ah, so you have been reading.”
“I glanced through two pages and that was enough for me.”
He smiled. “It’s that good, eh?”
Her breath caught. “It is a waste of paper. And what are you doing here, anyway?”
“I’ve come to welcome our duchess back to London. She is practically my sister, too. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” she was not so much curious as suspicious.
“Fitz will be here soon. Martin might know everything that happened in East Anglia before Canute the Great made it a mere fiefdom, but I see he doesn’t have the sense to remove himself and avoid giving the impression that he has come to meet you.”
“He hasn’t. He happens to be on his way to Oxford.”
“All the more reason not to give Fitz the wrong ideas. If there is no misconduct, then you shouldn’t waste people’s suspicion.”