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“You are right,” she agreed.

“Damn right I am.”

“I really do not want to end up in trouble.”

“I amsoglad we finally agree.”

“So you will escort me.”

“I—what?”Morgan hissed.

“You will escort me,” Helena replied with a shrug of her left shoulder. “To make sure that I do not end up in danger. No one will try anything dastardly if you are by my side. I am sure of it.”

Morgan laughed wickedly as he ran a hand through his shoulder length brown hair.

“You are out of your mind if you think I would agree to that plan.”

“Why not?” she asked innocently, batting her blonde lashes. “Do you not wish to keep me out of harm’s way?”

The way she taunted him only heightened his arousal, and it both annoyed and pleased him to see her so fearless.

“I was wrong,” Morgan retorted, taking a step towards her. “You are not as innocent as you like to pretend.”

“Oh, come now, Morgan! How many times have I helped you pull off your tricks?” Helena asked.

Morgan raised a brow as he worked his jaw and pointed a finger at her.

“That is not fair,” he insisted. “Those were pranks, but this is something entirely different. Moreover, I have not asked for your help all that often.”

“The Dutton-Wilshire winter ball eight years ago?” she asked.

“That was one minor example,” Morgan countered.

“The Brimsley Garden Party in the country six years ago?”

“All you did was let the chickens out,” Morgan argued.

“What about at Lady Rowley’s coming out party five years ago?” Helena went on. “You had me flirt with the wait staff so you could spike the lemonade.”

“Oh, come on, that party was boring,” Morgan sighed, rolling his eyes. “We all needed a little fun to liven things up, and besides, you cannot tell me you did not love pretending to flirt with the help.”

“Well, it was the way I discovered how to get the best treats at parties,” Helena admitted with a careless shrug, and Morgan laughed as he shook his head.

Morgan begrudgingly admitted to himself that Helena had spoken the truth. On many occasions she had assisted him in pulling off several rather humorous bits at certain boring affairs, and she had always kept his secrets for him. Still…

“Well, while I have appreciated you secretly helping me out with a few pranks over the last few years, you must be able to see that the type of help you are now asking of me is quite another matter,” Ambrose said quietly, his humor fading.

Helena’s cocky, haughty smile also began to fade as she contemplated her words, making him feel all the more guilty about his contribution to the situation in which they now found themselves.

“Helena, look, I am very sorry that your brother is being so insistent…”

“Every man alive is allowed to kiss a woman with passion, even if they are not married,” Helena said boldly, cutting him off.

Morgan’s argument died on his lips and he gave her a compassionate look. She blushed, her haughtiness seeming to waver for a moment, but she swallowed and continued.

“I only wish to experience the same thing. One night. One kiss. Not with a man to whom I am already married. Not with just mere hope that he might make me feel like the women do in my books. I want it to be real. Even if it is only once.”

There was passion in her voice, but it was overshadowed by a tone of fear, which made Morgan pause. It was a fear that he understood well. Marriage, whether for a man or woman of noble birth, was a necessity. One of the reasons he had avoided such a union for so long was exactly that; the thought of being legally bound to someone with whom he shared no passion was a nightmare that he was constantly trying to outrun.