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Helen gave a tiny nod.

He tsked and shook his head. “It is not something one can teach.”

“Oh.” She lowered her gaze, disappointment filling her entire being. And also shame.

Warm fingers touched her chin. His fingertips had calluses on them after all, and they scratched her skin ever so slightly, heightening her senses. He nudged her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “But it is something one can show.”

Helen licked her dry lips. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. “Can you show it to me then?”

He stepped closer now, so close that she could feel his heat, his scent. He smelled of horses, mixed with the scent of fresh spring grass and raw male. His face lowered as if he was preparing to kiss her.

Helen took a step back. “B-but, I have conditions,” she stuttered.

He lowered his hand and clasped his hands behind his back. “Of course, what are they?”

“I suppose there is no need to say this, but I want to be clear on every detail.” She licked her lips. “The liaison should be kept a secret. I don’t want my cousin-in-law finding out about it from rumors…”

He frowned. “I can’t control rumors, as evidenced by the recent turn of events. But I would never betray a confidence.”

Helen swallowed. “That is all I require. I can’t hold you accountable for others’ actions.”

“What else?”

Her voice shook as she announced her second condition. She was afraid he would say no, or that it was impossible. He was an experienced man. Surely, he would know what to do. But Greyson wasn’t a virgin either. He’d had several mistresses, and yet… She shook her head. “Our liaison should not lead to any complications. I mean… I don’t want children.”

He seemed unbothered when he answered, “That’s not a problem.”

Helen let out a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She was propositioning a man for a liaison. She closed her eyes and the face of her late husband appeared before her. Please, do not judge me.

She shouldn’t feel guilty for betraying her husband. He had betrayed her first. But this wasn’t a competition. This wasn’t revenge. Everybody had to answer for their own sins. She wanted to experience something that Greyson had not given her, but what he’d shared with others. Yet, she didn’t want to lose the connection she’d had with him. She didn’t want to eclipse the special moments she’d shared with her husband. They had lain together as husband and wife, but those weren’t the moment of their relationship she’d treasured. Their tender, sweet kisses were something just for her and her husband. For them alone and no one else.

She licked her lips. “No kisses.”

For the first time, Helen saw surprise overcome Lord McAllistair’s features. “No kisses? Just on the lips or—”

“Anywhere,” she interrupted swiftly. For a moment, she thought he would refuse her. And some part of her even felt relief at the thought. Another part of her tightened in trepidation.

“Very well,” Lord McAllistair conceded after a brief pause.

Helen let out a deep breath, the nervous tension leaving her body. It is done.

Lord McAllistair took out the flask and offered it to her. “I feel you need a drink.”

Tears appeared in the corner of Helen’s eyes. Not because she felt maudlin or sad, but because she felt relief. How did this man know her so well in such a brief span of time? It’s as if he felt the same feelings she did, or even before she did, anticipating her every need. She only hoped he would continue being this perceptive as their liaison progressed further.

She took a sip from the flask, more adept in her movements now, even though her hands were shaking. “Do you need time to consider my offer?”

He took the flask from her slack fingers and took a sip, too. Helen’s eyes widened. She’d never seen a man and a woman sharing a drink from the same vessel. It shouldn’t have seemed scandalous to her, not after what she’d just proposed. Not after knowing what more they’d be sharing soon. Yet habits were difficult to overcome.

“There is nothing to consider,” he said evenly. “I shall gladly provide you with the service you require.”

“Provide me with the service?” Helen’s question left on an exhale. It sounded so… formal as if something the lady from the brothel would say. A service. But that was essentially what Helen was asking for, was it not?

He let out a chuckle. “Or ‘accept your offer’ if you prefer.”

“You don’t need to think about it?”

He shook his head. “Not for a moment.”