a veil of fabric and nothing more skimming her breasts. As if Helena could see her near-naked reflection in his eyes she hauled her coat closed and folded her arms.
‘You see? I can’t exactly walk home in my undergarments, can I?’ She straightened her cap and marched off down the cobbled back lane.
Arthur cursed under his breath. He was done with Lady Helena. She always threw his help back in his face, so she could learn the hard way in prison for all he cared.
With the vision of sheer nightwear shimmering through his head, he tensed his fists by his side and stormed off in the opposite direction. Not caring was going to be difficult.
Why did the men in her life always think they knew better? If it wasn’t bad enough her father watching every move she made, now Arthur seemed to have taken it upon himself to interfere too. She valued his opinion on many things, he was one of those people who seemed to know about everything, but this was none of his business. She only hoped he would keep quiet about what she’d done. She wasn’t ready to make her stance public just yet.
The night air ricocheted with yells and clangs, and slivers of light lit up the back lane as police ran along the main street with torches and whistles. It suddenly hit her that this entire ruckus was for her. Her blood ran cold. She hadn’t really planned her escape. She’d only imagined sitting in the parlour reading about it in the paper the next morning and condemning it with her father whilst secretly grinning and patting herself on the back. At this rate she’d be reading about it in a prison cell.
Panic soared through her veins. The darkness and noise disorientated her. She knew her defiance had landed her in a mess this time and she shouldn’t have spurned Arthur’s offer of assistance. She sprinted down a path and took a right turn. A flickering light in the distance and the scuffle of footsteps made her turn back.
The footsteps echoed all around and Helena wished she could climb atop the walls to escape. She was sure she was surrounded. She panted heavily under the weight of her disguise but there was no time to stop. Someone was right behind her. Looking back would slow her down so she ran and ran, her feet pounding on the cobbled path.
A hand grabbed at her wrist and jerked her back.
In a whirlwind she was forced against the wall and when she braved a glance she saw Arthur’s face just inches from hers. His blue eyes seemed steeped in shadows but they glared at her without blinking once.
‘What are we going to do with you Helena?’ there was the smile that always made her stomach somersault. Even in that moment of panic it had the same effect. Without warning he cupped her head in his hand and pushed his mouth onto hers. She let her loose coat fall open and when Arthur slid it down her arms she didn’t object. When he pulled his lips away for a second, she could feel his eyes looking down at her shivering torso before he snatched them away, returning his lips to hers more forcefully than before. He took off her cap and tossed it into the puddled gutter.
Helena’s whole body trembled. She’d never allowed a man to undress her before and this was not how she had envisaged it. She would be lying if she pretended she hadn’t imagined him disrobing her on many occasions. She’d just never imagined it like this.
He leaned into her, his solid chest pressing against her bosom. She hardly noticed the cacophony of noise surrounding them until someone turned down the same back lane.
‘Just follow my lead,’ he said, ‘With you dressed like that we haven’t much choice.’
Helena’s heart plummeted. It was all an act to rescue her. Feeling foolish, she wished his lips weren’t so close to her ear lobe. His breath was hot and raspy against her neck and still stirred a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she now didn’t welcome.
Helena knew she should have pushed him away but she didn’t have a better plan and for some reason, that wasn’t just her fear of prison, she didn’t want to. His body was like a rock-hard column pressed against her and she had never before felt the intimate curves of a man, or inhaled a man’s warm breath. Her body writhed under his weight, reacting to him in a way her mind hadn’t permitted.
‘We need to do something about your hair,’ he whispered to her. A hand reached up from the wall and untwisted the giant blonde bun. Her heart fluttered as his fingertips teased the mane down her back. It was taking all her strength not to arch her body into his. She reminded herself that this wasn’t real for him.
Her spine stiffened as she heard footsteps getting closer. This was it. The police would know it was her who shattered the window. Or worse they’d think she was a…
‘Here we go,’ Arthur whispered, putting his hands on her hips and pushing his soft lips firmly against hers once more. Helena felt a gasp escape from her lungs and her legs buckling beneath her. She tried to remember that it was all an act but as he leaned further into her and dug his fingertips into her waist she felt her lips parting. Her tongue brushed gently against his and Helena couldn’t control the little groan that slipped out of her mouth.
Cough! ‘Ahem. Excuse me sir,’ a gruff voice growled from behind.
Arthur pulled his face a few inches away from hers and turned to the policeman. His eyes were wide and his chest was heaving against his buttoned jacket.
She tried to hold her breath and go unnoticed in the shadows but huge gasps of pleasure were still emanating from her. Damn her body for betraying her like this.
‘Can’t a chap get any privacy?’ Arthur asked, his voice dripping with the charm that the women of London loved.
The police officer laughed. ‘You didn’t see anything unusual tonight on your travels did you? Anyone running away?’
‘Do you think I would have noticed?’ Arthur replied with a cool, calm laugh and a nod in her direction. Helena bit her lip. It was confirmation that she was just another one of his conquests. How could she show her face to the suffragettes ever again? How could she claim to be fighting for womanhood and then letting her body fall for a man’s touch so easily?
‘I know I wouldn’t,’ the policeman, who smelled of whisky, chuckled. ‘Now on your way eh?’ and he turned on his heel, whistling a merry sort of tune as he walked back to the main street.
Helena could still barely breathe. Her lips were frozen as he’d left them, parted for his tongue. Her body was numb and still longing for his touch but her head was angry.
‘What was that all about Arthur?’ Helena asked, forcing coldness to her voice as she smoothed down her hair, which only moments earlier his fingers had been tousled in.
Arthur was silent for a while.‘Can’t have the Mayor’s neighbour getting arrested for vandalism now, can we?’
‘You’re not the Mayor yet,’ she reminded him, ‘and there’s nothing shameful about fighting for what you believe in.’
‘No of course not,’ he stared deep into her eyes, ‘but there are shameful ways of achieving it.’
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