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gold band. It felt too good to touch her, the awareness of her softness, her sweetness, coursing through him. He made himself let go before he ended up ravishing her there in the office. He had to think. Arrangements had to be made.
    â€œWhere is your driver waiting?” he asked.
    â€œAt the mews behind the store.”
    â€œAn unmarked carriage?”
    â€œNo, the family carriage,” came her innocent reply.
    So much for discretion , Rhys thought ruefully, and gestured for her to precede him to his desk. “Write a note and I’ll have it taken to him.”
    Helen allowed him to seat her. “When shall I have him return?”
    â€œTell him he won’t be needed for the rest of the day. I’ll see to it that you’re delivered home safely.”
    â€œMay I also send a message to my sisters, to keep them from worrying?”
    â€œAye. Do they know where you’ve gone?”
    â€œYes, and they were quite pleased. They’re both fond of you.”
    â€œOr at least of my store,” he said.
    Helen struggled with a smile as she drew a sheet of writing paper from a silver tray.
    At his invitation, the Ravenel family had visited Winterborne’s one evening, after hours. Since theywere still in mourning for the late earl, their activities in public were restricted. For the space of two hours, the twins, Cassandra and Pandora, had managed to cover an impressive amount of territory. They had been beside themselves with excitement over the displays of the newest, most fashionable merchandise, the glass cases and counters filled with accessories, cosmetics, and trimmings.
    He noticed that Helen was staring in perplexity at the fountain pen on his desk.
    â€œThere’s an ink reservoir inside the pen casing,” he said, walking around the desk to her. “Apply light pressure to the tip as you write.”
    Picking up the pen cautiously, she made a mark with it, and paused in surprise as the pen created a smooth line across the paper.
    â€œHaven’t you seen one of those before?” he asked.
    Helen shook her head. “Lord Trenear prefers an ordinary pen and inkwell. He says this kind is prone to leak.”
    â€œThey often do,” he said. “But this is a new design, with a needle to regulate the flow.”
    He watched as she experimented with the pen, writing her name in careful script. When she finished, she studied it for a moment, and crossed out the surname. Rhys leaned over her from behind, his hands braced on either side of her as she wrote again. Together they stared down at the paper.
    Lady Helen Winterborne
    â€œIt’s a lovely name,” he heard Helen murmur.
    â€œNot quite so exalted as Ravenel.”
    Helen twisted in the chair to look up at him. “I’ll be honored to take it as mine.”
    Rhys was accustomed to being flattered all the time, by a multitude of people who wanted things from him. Usually he could read their motives as easily as if they’d been written in the air above their heads. But Helen’s eyes were clear and guileless, as if she meant it. She knew nothing of the world, or what kind of man she should marry, and she would only realize her mistake when it was too late to rectify it. If he had any decency, he would send her away this very moment.
    But his gaze fell to the name she had written . . . Lady Helen Winterborne . . . and that sealed her fate.
    â€œWe’ll have a grand wedding,” he said. “So that all of London will know.”
    Helen didn’t seem especially taken with the idea, but she offered no objection.
    Still staring at the name, he absently stroked her cheek with a gentle fingertip. “Think of our children, cariad . Sturdy Welsh stock with a Ravenel strain. They’ll conquer the world.”
    â€œI rather think you’ll conquer it before they have a chance,” Helen said, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper.
    After she had written and sealed two notes,