Page 25 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

“After all I’ve done to safeguard your reputation,” Justin said under his breath.

Helena didn’t give a fig for her reputation. Gossip, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. The last thing she wanted was to make herself memorable here in the village. “Do you suppose anyone saw us?”

Justin glanced back toward the window with a frown. “I don’t know.”

She folded her arms in front of her to stave off a shiver. The fire had dwindled to a small, struggling flame. She moved to stand in front of it, turning her back to Justin. She could hardly bring herself to look at him. She was growing more embarrassed about their kiss by the minute. Even more so because Justin himself appeared to be relatively unaffected by the intimacy.

“If they did, we’ve a simple enough explanation.” He came to stand behind her. “We’re going to be married tomorrow after all.”

Helena felt the weight of his hands as he brought them to rest on her upper arms. The jolt of pain was instantaneous. She gasped and pulled away, only to cry out as Justin reached for her again, his fingers clenching around her left arm in a viselike grip.

“Damn it, Helena!” He jerked her clear of the hearth. “Get away from there before you catch your skirts on fire!”

Helena looked up into his furious face, mortified to feel the sting of tears starting in her eyes. He let go of her as soon as she was a safe distance from the fireplace, but the throbbing from her bruises was unceasing. She drew back from him, her hand lifting instinctively to cover her arm. “You mustn’t ever grab me like that.”

“And you mustn’t stand close to an open flame in skirts of this size. One stray ember and you’d have gone up like a torch. Don’t you read the papers? Women have burned to death.”

“Please don’t shout at me.”

“I’m not shouting, but—” Justin raked a hand through his hair. “If you don’t wish me to touch you—”

“No,” she protested.

“If I disgust you or frighten you—”

“No,” she said again. “No, Justin.” But he wasn’t listening to her. He was too angry. No, not angry. He was hurt.

“You nearly stepped into the fire rather than let me touch your arm. Your arm, Helena. You’re an innocent, I have no doubt, but surely you’re aware that, as your husband, I’ll need to touch more than your arm on occasion. If you’re so appalled at the idea, it’s better we end this now.”

Panic surged in Helena’s breast. Everything was beginning to unravel. Months of planning, disintegrating before her eyes. She didn’t know how to make it right. And if he refused to marry her, all would be lost.

She would be lost.

“My arm is bruised,” she blurted out.

Justin made a sound like a groan. “Already?”

“No. Not because of you. It was bruised before I came here.” She looked at him, silently pleading with him to understand.

And, miraculously, it seemed he did. She saw it in the way his gaze sharpened, fixing on her like a hawk homing in on a field mouse. “How?”

“A silly accident. It’s not important.”

“Helena—”

“I would have said something on the beach path, but I didn’t like to admit how clumsy I am. Always tripping and falling, bruising myself all over. It’s not a very becoming trait.”

An expression of disquiet darkened his features. “Is that what happened to your arm? You tripped and fell?” He looked skeptical, if not downright disbelieving.

“It was an accident,” she said again. “I don’t wish to speak of it. And I wouldn’t have done so except I can’t bear for you to think—”

“That I repulse you? That you can’t tolerate my touch?”

She took a steadying breath. When next she spoke, her voice was low and even—and completely sincere. “You don’t repulse me.”

Justin searched her face. Whatever he found there appeared to satisfy him to some small degree. He still looked troubled, but the hurt and anger were slowly receding. “Don’t I? That’s something, at least.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. The silence stretched out between them for several uncomfortable seconds. “I beg your pardon for raising my voice,” he said at last. “And for my language, as well.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”