He ran that same hand through his hair again and she wished she could repeat the action. Feel the short locks against her fingertips. Ascertain if his hair was soft, if it tickled her palm.
“I had a piece of business that came up,” he explained. “Something I thought could not wait. Turns out it was…” He trailed off and looked behind him at his desk. “It wasn’t what I was hoping for.”
She saw the tension on his face. Not the heated kind that so unexpectedly flowed between them, but something less comfortable. Something unpleasant. It drew his lips down in a deeper frown.
“I’m sorry,” she said slowly, and wished she were in a position where she could say more. After all, she knew disappointment, she knew regret. She recognized them both. She recognized when a man could use a sympathetic ear.
“You needn’t be,” he began with a shrug that pushed aside all those emotions he likely hadn’t meant to reveal. “It is not your problem, after all.”
“That does not mean I’m not sorry that it is yours,” she responded.
He tilted his head and the silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but also not without tension or heat. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something to her, but before he could there came a sound from the hallway.
“Blast it all, Helena, where are you?”
Helena squeezed her eyes shut for a beat. “My cousin,” she murmured.
“We could shut the door,” Baldwin suggested.
Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. He seemed serious. Too serious. And the idea of him reaching behind her and shutting them in alone in his office was tempting beyond measure.
And inappropriate beyond words.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
More disappointment flowed over his features before he shrugged. “Of course.”
She drew a ragged breath, then called out, “I’m here, Charity.”
There were footsteps and then Charity appeared in the doorway. “Honestly, Papa is going to have a—oh, Your Grace.”
Her tone changed from strict to sweet in nothing more than a word. Charity smoothed her gown and pushed past Helena into Baldwin’s office, her hips shimmying with every step. Helena watched his reaction, watched as his gaze slid over her pretty cousin, from her perfect blonde hair to her expensive slippers. Whatever he thought, Helena could not tell. He had shut off the sharing of any emotion.
“Miss Shephard,” he said, his tone just as unreadable as his expression. “Good afternoon once again.”
“I hope my cousin hasn’t been bothering you,” Charity said with a glare at Helena that made the heat of a blush flood her cheeks. “She obviously doesn’t know her place if she is roaming through your home unattended.”
“On the contrary, I was happy to bump into her,” Baldwin said. “And just as happy that you have come to save me from the distraction that took me from the party. Shall we return together, ladies?”
He looked toward Helena, but before she could respond, Charity sidled up beside him and glided her hand right into the crook of his elbow. “Lead the way, Your Grace,” she cooed, batting her pretty blue eyes at him.
He cleared his throat. “Of course.”
The pair walked to the door, and Helena stepped aside as they exited the room. She trailed after them, heart throbbing as Baldwin led them back out onto the terrace and down to the garden where the games had already began.
But he looked back as they reached the grass. Right back at her. Their gazes met, held, and she forced a small smile at him. He returned something much the same, and then he released her cousin and returned to the lord of the manor act that he had to play.
But she’d seen something real in him. Something she ought not to have seen. And she would not forget it soon, nor forget the feelings this unattainable man inspired in her.
Baldwin watched from his front step as the last of the carriages pulled away, taking his guests back to where they’d come from. Leaving him in peace, at last. Only he didn’t feel peaceful.
“That went well.”
He jumped, for his sister Charlotte’s voice was right beside him. He didn’t even know she had moved so close.
He pivoted toward her with a shrug. “As well as any of these things do.”
Charlotte stared at him a moment and then turned. “Ewan, didn’t you and Mama want to talk about improvements to the garden back in Donburrow? You even brought a diagram, I think.”
Ewan had been standing back, but now he arched a brow at his wife. Then he nodded and held out an elbow to the Duchess of Sheffield. She took it with a warm smile for her much-beloved son-in-law and said, “Oh, excellent, I’ve been so looking forward to the time I’ll spend with you later this summer. If we have all our plans made before then, it will make the visit all the more pleasant. Will you and Charlotte join us, Baldwin?”
“No, for I think I’d like to take a walk with Baldwin,” Charlotte answered for him. Her dark green eyes continued to hold his, even and unwilling to accept refusal.
Baldwin knew when he was beaten and held out an elbow. “To the garden, then,” he said.
Ewan and the duchess entered the house together, and Baldwin took his sister down the steps and around a pretty path that took them into his garden. Once they were out of earshot, he said, “And does Ewan really wish to talk to Mama about azaleas?”
Charlotte laughed softly. “Yes, he truly did. He really does plan to redesign the garden and Mama has such a talent in that arena. But he also knows when I want an excuse to be alone with my brother.”
“And he always gives you what you want,” Baldwin mused.
She glanced up at him, and her smile was soft and filled with pleasure. “He does,” she said. “The past five months of our marriage have been the happiest of my life. I love him, Baldwin. It makes all the difference in the world.”
Baldwin nodded slowly. “I’m very happy for you, then, Charlotte. I was hard on him during your…well, I suppose we’ll call it a courtship, despite how close we’ve always been. But it’s only because I wanted to keep you from grief.”
“Is that the same reason you lie to me now?” she asked, releasing his arm as they at last entered the garden. “To keep me from grief?”
He hesitated. Charlotte had been pressing him to reveal his troubles for a long time. Years, probably. He always dodged it. Now he felt even more of a drive to do so. If she told Ewan then everyone in their group of friends would know.
Humiliations galore would follow, even if intentions were the best.
“Lie to you?” he said, keeping his tone light. “You wound me.”
He paced away but felt her watching him. Her concern was palpable.
“I’m no fool,” she said softly. “Is it so very bad that you can’t trust me?”
He pivoted. “You assume there is some heavy secret on my shoulders. Can you not just believe that I am merely a more serious person than my friends and leave it at that?”
She tilted her head. “Dearest brother, I have been a keen observer of your behavior for twenty-five years. You’ve changed in the last five of them. Since Father died.”