“I burn them.”
“I beg your pardon?” She stepped over a vast flower bed in order to catch him up as he walked away. Automatically, he reached for her hand to assist her. She took it then leapt back from him, releasing his hand.
Did she feel that warmth too?
He ignored it. Such touches usually brought heat and a jolt to his body, they even made his heart thud harder in his chest, but he was too irritated to be able to enjoy such feelings.
“I burn every scandal sheet that reaches my door these days,” he explained in a rush. “The moment they arrived. Do you think I would countenance reading such things in my home? Do you believe I’d allow my mother to read such lies?” he asked in horror.
“Lies?” she murmured, her hand reaching out to snatch the reticule away. “You can’t expect me to believe that every word ever printed of you in a scandal sheet is just a tall tale and nothing else.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because the stories have been printed in the scandal sheets for years now. Women’s tales are written there.”
“Have you ever met one of the women I have supposedly spent a night with?” he asked, walking away from her with sudden vigor. She raced to catch up with him, pulling at the skirt of her gown. “Have you ever heard a story from one of the lady’s own lips?”
“Well, I…”
“Well?” he snapped, halting and turning back to face her. She tottered on her toes in danger of falling over. She found her balance, chewed her lip, then shook her head.
“I only ever read of it.”
“Expand your imagination, Lady Helena. Consider for one minute that there is a reason why you have only read of it and never heard the words with your own ears.” He scoffed and turned away. “Only those who do not know me in person would trust such rumors and lies. If you want proof of the matter, appeal to my brother, my cousin, even. They know what caliber of a man I truly am, and it is certainly no cad.”
“Wait, Your Grace, wait.” She was struggling to keep up with him.
Christopher looked up, yet could see no sign of Robert nor of Lady Julia. He rounded a tall statue in the knot garden, looking back in the direction they had come from with vast purple and red flowers marring his vision.
“Enough, Lady Helena. I have no wish to talk of this subject anymore.”
“You cannot seriously shut down this conversation after such a discussion as this,” she said hurriedly, following behind him as he circled the statue. “You are no cad, you say? No rake? Then how would the scandal sheets ever hear of such things? Why would they print such things they know to be untrue?”
“I hardly know, and I care even less,” he barked sharply.
“Goodness, you are angry,” she murmured as he turned back and walked past her, coming so close to her that he was in danger of knocking her down. He caught her elbow, stabilizing her. This time, she didn’t jerk out of his hold. “If it is all a lie, then prove it.”
“How can I?” he asked, holding her gaze. “My word should be enough.” He didn’t blink and held that gaze. She swallowed audibly, looking incredibly nervous.
Footsteps passed nearby, and Christopher slowly released her arm, not wanting to be seen with his grasp upon Lady Helena. Such a touch could be misconstrued as something else besides just the help it had intended to be.
“Believe my word if you wish to or ignore it, as, no doubt, the rest of your family do.” He turned away from her, searching through the flowers again. Robert was nowhere to be seen. Christopher cursed, flicking his head back and forth.
“I do not understand,” Lady Helena murmured, her tone soft. Despite the eagerness to find his brother, Christopher’s attention was caught by that soft tone. He looked back at her, seeing she was shaking her head and fidgeting with her reticule in front of her. “People talk of you with such keenness, such wanton enjoyment for the stories to be unfounded rumors –”
“Have you not struck the nail on the head, My Lady?” He felt a smirk growing. “People love rumors. Their lips smack as they repeat the words they’ve heard as if they were eating a fine jam tart. Few people care for the authenticity or the accuracy of their gossip; they just like speaking of scandal. I warrant that even those who whisper about our siblings have embroidered the tale by now. I heard a man declare the other day that your sister was found in my brother’s arms with her gown shifted.”
“That’s a lie!” Lady Helena declared with vigorous passion.
“Shh,” he pleaded, turning to walk toward her. “I know it is, but I say it just to make a point. As people lie about them, maybe it’s time you entertained the idea that people lie about me too.”
She said nothing, neither agreeing nor denying him. He walked around her again, his eyes flicking to the nearby paths.
“Will you not stand still?” she pleaded. “It’s very difficult to have such a serious conversation with a man who refuses to stand in one place.”
“I cannot stand still.”
“Why not? Just to infuriate me?” she asked in challenge, moving her hands to her hips.
