Page 82 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

“And if I had…would you still have married me?”

Justin stilled. Her question hung in the air between them for several uncomfortable seconds. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Helena turned her head to gaze out the window. He could no longer see her eyes. He couldn’t tell if his words had hurt her. “When all of this is over,” she said, “I’ll consent to an annulment, if that’s what you wish.”

His heart stopped. What in blazes? He sat up straighter in his seat, his body tensing, as if anticipating a blow. “Is that what you wish?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I can’t. Not with all that’s looming in front of me. I’m already overwhelmed.” Her throat contracted in a visible swallow. “But you needn’t worry I’ll hold you to your vows. Not when they were given under false pretenses. If you want to dissolve our marriage, I’ll agree to it without any fuss. I owe you that much.”

His jaw hardened. Bloody hell. Is that what she believed? That she was in debt to him somehow? Was that the reason for her kindness? For her kisses? “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t I? You’ve saved my life on more than one occasion. First by marrying me and then by rescuing me from the cliffs.” She looked at him briefly. “I owe you everything, Justin.”

He frowned. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. That isn’t how any of this works. It isn’t a tabulation of debts and repayments. I advertised for a wife and you answered. It doesn’t signify what drove you to it. That ceased to matter the moment we exchanged vows in Abbot’s Holcombe. We’re married now, in law if not in deed. I’d walk through fire for you, and you wouldn’t owe me a thing.”

She finally turned from the window. “Because I’m your wife.”

“Yes. And because you’re you. A lady who makes me smile. Who’s kind and thoughtful and loyal as all hell. A lady whose hand fits perfectly in mine. And who returns my kisses so very sweetly. For all of those reasons, yes. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Helena. You must know that.”

A flush of color worked its way from her throat all the way to the roots of her hair. She bent her head. “I-I didn’t know.”

Justin tugged at the knot of his cravat, brutally suppressing a swell of embarrassment. He wasn’t accustomed to making pretty speeches. “Well, you do now,” he said gruffly. “No more secrets, remember?”

“I remember.” She worried the finger of one of her gloves. “And I like you very much, too, Justin. For those exact same reasons. I hope we might be friends.”

“We are friends.”

Her blush deepened. “Then I hope we might be more.”

Their eyes met and Justin felt his heart lurch back to life. It pounded swiftly. Painfully. “We are,” he said again.

The train chose that moment to grind into motion. A shrill whistle pierced the air and the conductor shouted, his words unintelligible over the roar of the engine. Their railway carriage rattled as the train began moving slowly on the track.

Helena’s fingers tightened together in her lap.

There was no turning back now. Their journey to London had officially begun.

Justin rose and moved to take the empty seat beside her. “You seem very far away all of a sudden. Here. Take my hand.”

She flicked an anxious glance out the window as she slipped her hand into his. The train was picking up speed, rapidly leaving the station behind. “I feel like Daniel must have felt, walking into the lion’s den.”

“You’re a little scared, that’s all.”

“I’m petrified.”

“But you’re not alone. Far from it. You have Finchley on your side. And Miss Holloway.”

“And you.” She pressed his hand.

“And me.” He returned the firm clasp of her fingers. “For as long as you require, in whatever manner you require.”

London, England

October, 1859

“There’s been a slight change of plans in regard to your lodgings,” Mr. Finchley said as they stood outside of Waterloo Station. The cabstand was nearby, but he didn’t hail a hansom. The three of them would never have fit inside one. Instead, he raised his hand to a coachman who was sitting on the perch of a four-wheeler parked across the way.

The coachman brought the carriage round and waited as they all bundled in. There was wet straw on the floor of the cab and the interior smelled heavily of cheap perfume. Helena was tempted to press her handkerchief to her nose.