Chapter 12

Over the last fortnight, Helen would have loved to believe she had forged deep connections with Alexander that would require him to treat her with a little more respect than he had.

Even if he didn't love her, she believed he desired her, she thought he respected her, and she would love to think they shared a beautiful friendship and chemistry both in their matrimonial bed and outside of it, but it seemed to her that those connections didn't extend to trust.

She had known that he had a cynical and suspicious personality courtesy of the demons that thrived in the dark corners of his mysterious past. She had always known he had a strong distrust of people, but for the first time, she was getting firsthand experience of what it felt like to be an object of his distrust.

Now that she knew what it felt like having him watch her with a look of distrust and anger for some perceived crime she had no idea about, she had never considered it before, but living with the constant weight would fast become exhausting.

She knew her marriage was not a love match, but she also knew that a partnership of any kind could not survive if there was no good communication and trust between parties. She couldn't continue being open with him while he clammed up and kept all his secrets. If this marriage was going to work, he had to give her something to work with.

At this moment, she already felt her anger giving way to exhaustion, and she needed space and fresh air to regain clarity in her thoughts.

"Excuse me, Your Grace, I would like to step outside to get some air," she said, gathering her skirts and hurrying past him towards the corridor without waiting for his permission.

Dimly, she could hear him calling her name, but she was not in the right state of mind to have a conversation with him, so she needed to get away from him. She walked at a brisk pace until she got to the corridor. Gently she released her tight grip on her skirts and took several deep, calming breaths until the feeling of suffocation abated and the chaos in her mind quietened.

* * *

Alexander had never felt the kind of panic before that he had experienced within those few minutes when he had searched for her. So many thoughts ran through his mind. His overactive imagination provided him with several scenarios, all of which showed Helen in danger. It did not help matters that he had caught a glimpse of his malevolent siblings plotting something, with their gazes glancing in the direction that Helen had left.

He should have known that he should not let down his guard so easily, not when he was within the same space as his siblings. They were creatures who thrived on his discomfort. It seemed they had decided to change tactics, choosing to attack his wife rather than go straight for him.

Over the years, he had built his cold demeanor as armor to ward off their attacks. Not that it worked, but at the very least, it made them wary of him and far less likely to attack him.

It seemed they thought Helen an easy target, the fastest way to create chinks in his armor, and he hated the fact that they were right and that Helen made him vulnerable. She had fast become his weak point, and that made him angry and afraid.

He had just made Helen a potential pawn in his never-ending family drama simply by marrying her. Of course, he didn't regret marrying her. In fact, that was probably the best decision he'd made in a while, considering what he'd gained, but he deeply regretted that he was unable to protect her from his family.

The sight of her in that hallway did several things to him that he had a hard time believing. In that short period of time, he went through a whole spectrum of emotions, from his initial relief to his anger at her for leaving the ball and walking around unescorted in secluded hallways, where a lot of unsavory males could do unthinkable things to her.

The sight of the man behind her added an even more potent point to the toxic swirl of emotions. The thought of the man hurting her in any way sent a wave of possessive rage through his entire being. Some rational part of his mind kept on reminding him that it was probably better to calm down and apologize for the beastly way he'd behaved, but he was too fired up with the jealousy and rage swirling in his system.

He was not given to making apologies, since he made a point of avoiding situations that warranted apologies, but it seemed he was learning every day. He had to learn to apologize and hope she forgave him.

The way she left led him to believe that he wouldn't get through to her at the moment. She was really hurt, and it was probably best that he gave her space to be angry at him. It was what she deserved, and he'd be even more beastly to take that away from her.

He made his way towards the corridor she had fled to and sighed when he spotted her. She stood silently with her arms wrapped around herself, silhouetted with the light of the candles illuminating part of her face while the other part remained in shadow. She was the portrait of a beautiful creature in pain. It saddened him to know he was the cause of her pain.

"Helen," he said, moving towards her. He noticed her flinch and then turn away from him.

Removing his coat, he placed it around her shoulders.

"You will catch your death if you stay out too long," he pointed out, holding the coat more firmly around her. "Let's go inside."

"I would rather not," she said in a stiff voice.

"Please," he tried again. "It is late. If you want some air, you can use the balcony in my chambers."

"I'd rather return home as you insisted, Your Grace." She curtsied.

She'd gone back to using his title, letting him know she was incensed beyond measure, but he felt a kindling of something in his chest as he heard her refer to his castle as her home.

"All right. I will have a footman bring the carriage around," he agreed quietly.

"All right." She nodded and proceeded to walk towards the entrance, her head held high and her spine ramrod straight.

He had to agree that she was quite regal in her anger, and strangely enough, it aroused the hell out of him even as it terrified him.

He watched her go and then returned to the ballroom, calling for a footman, but before he could step out again, he was waylaid by Sophia.

"Well, Brother, it seemed you have managed to locate your Duchess," she said with a smug smirk, "but she is in quite a foul mood. I wonder where you found her? Or maybe I interrupted something interesting."

At that, Alexander gave her a cold look of warning, but she giggled, the sound grating on his nerves.

"You see, I hate being interrupted rudely, so I understand the sentiment," she continued, ignoring his silent warning.

"I would think you would have better things to do with your time, like pandering to the whims of the young Earl," he replied, matching her smug smirk "We wouldn't want him to stray, this close to the wedding."

"He wouldn't dare. The man worships the ground I walk on. He would jump if I asked him to."

Alexander was sure the simple-minded man would do just that. He had an inkling that if Sophia should request that he jump, the man would probably stop only to inquire how high.

"I am sure that is quite true, but I wonder what he would think if he knew what his bride prefers to do with her free time," Alexander said, tapping his chin in mock thought.

"You wouldn't dare," she spluttered, an element of fear appearing in her eyes. "Besides, he won't believe you."

"You do know I can be very convincing," he said, widening his grin. "I might even share my stories with the Dowager Countess. I wager she might find them quite interesting. And she wouldn't dare doubt the sincerity of my words, seeing as I'm a duke."

At that, Sophia became quiet, vibrating with rage. If there was one thing everyone in the ton knew, it was the fact that even though the Earl was simple-minded, his mother was quite shrewd, and Sophia was aware of what it would mean for unflattering stories of her to reach the ears of her shrewd future mother-in-law. The gates to her extravagant lifestyle will be quite likely shut, with her on the wrong side of it.

Realizing this, Sophia stomped angrily away, leaving him the space to find his wife. He got to the exit to find her already being helped into the carriage by a footman. He quickly joined her.

When he was sitting comfortably, he looked up to see her looking at him askance.

"I am sorry I was late. I was temporarily delayed," he said in answer to the unspoken question.

She seemed satisfied with the answer as she turned her head towards the window, effectively ignoring him. It seemed he was going to have to do a lot of groveling before he could get back into her good graces, and frankly, he was not looking forward to it, but if it was what it took to get her to forgive him, he was willing to try.

The journey back to the manor was uncomfortable, to say the least, as they sat in silence. All efforts by Alexander to draw Helen into conversation were met with cold, stony silence. She didn't even turn her head to acknowledge him when he spoke.

When the carriage stopped in front of their castle, he stepped down first and then extended his hand to help his wife down, but she ignored his offered arm and jumped down herself—rather unladylike he might add, but it seemed Helen was happy to do anything to avoid interacting with him.

Inside the manor, she walked before him and proceeded to climb up the stairs. Considering the state of their relationship at the moment, Alexander should not have enjoyed watching her swaying hips as she climbed up the stairs before him, but he couldn't help himself any more than he would gouge his eyes out.

When they got to her bedroom, she walked in, slammed the door in his face, and proceeded to latch the door in an unspoken command not to trespass.

Damn.

He had married one firecracker, and it was quite inflaming to watch her in a rage—she was simply glorious. And he was probably out of his mind, since he was having erotic fantasies about a woman who was furious with him, but he had already accepted that he was addicted to her, and he was tired of fighting his addiction.

The problem was that he had succeeded in getting himself highly aroused with no hope of relief in sight. It appeared he had an appointment with a cold bath if he hoped to achieve some modicum of peaceful slumber that night.

Hopefully, by the next morning, she would be a little less angry with him. A few nights of this kind of denial, and he might spontaneously combust. His desire for his firecracker of a wife never ceased to amaze him, and he had given up hope of making sense of it.

It helped that he was not the only one consumed by that desire; his wife desired him just as much, and under his hands, she became a hot flame.

Together, they created an inferno that turned their world on its axis. Their joining was always ballistic, and he couldn't wait to have her in his arms again, begging him, screaming his name in ecstasy.

Yes, he definitely needed a cold bath, especially as his erection was threatening to split the seams of his breeches. He was always painfully aroused around Helen. It appeared to have become the norm. It was very unusual for any man of the ton to desire his wife the way he desired Helen, but he had come to realize that there was nothing normal about what lay between him and his delectable wife.

The next morning, Alexander went downstairs to meet his wife, who was already seated at one end of the massive dining table, sipping her tea daintily.

She made no move to acknowledge his presence, but he knew she was aware of him due to the slight tension in her shoulders.

They might be at odds at the moment, but her body was attuned to his at an elemental level just as he was attuned to hers. Alexander made his way towards her, making sure to stomp his feet a little to make his footsteps more audible. Childish maybe, but he didn't particularly care at the moment.

When he stood behind her seat, he placed his hands on her shoulders and then leaned forward slightly to speak in her ear.

"Good morning, darling. I trust you had a splendid night?" He was satisfied with the slight shiver she tried to suppress.

It definitely was a big stroke to his trophy ego to see her react strongly to his proximity, but it appeared he was torturing himself as well, since his position brought him close to the skin of her neck and her intoxicating scent.

It was all he could do not to lick her skin. He forced himself to move away.

"I slept very well, Your Grace," Helen replied stiffly.

It took him a while to realize that she was answering his previous question. Rather coldly, if he might add. It appeared the hours had not mitigated her anger towards him.

"Ah, love, are you still angry with me? I am really sorry for speaking to you that way. That was uncalled for, and you didn't deserve such. Forgive me? Hmm?" he apologized finally, still standing behind her.

She kept her face in profile, and her next words told him he had just failed at conveying his apologies correctly.

"Apparently, it seems I'm supposed to forgive your outburst of anger every now and then without any explanations as to the reason until the next time you lose your temper," she stated calmly. "How long do you expect us to keep repeating that cycle?"

Alexander released her as her words hit him. He thought he knew the worst of her anger, but this cold side to her alerted him that there were more sides to this woman than he knew. He walked to the opposite side of the table, so he could see her face fully.

Helen waited till he was standing in front of her before continuing, "Don't get me wrong, Your Grace. You are entitled to your secrets, but I hardly think it is right that I suffer from your periodic outbursts of anger without knowing their source. To make this marriage work, even if just for the duration we agreed on, I think we have to at least make an effort to be transparent with each other. I was under the impression that we had come a long way from us not trusting each other, but if that is the type of marriage you would prefer, then you can hold on to your secrets as tightly as you like."

Then, dropping her cutlery, she continued, "I no longer have an appetite. I think I would retire above stairs. Enjoy your meal, Your Grace."

She rose from the table and disappeared upstairs.

Alexander highly doubted he could enjoy his breakfast, now that he had seen how upset Helen really was. He had built his secret and remote personality to keep away members of the ton, primarily his stepfamily, and to protect himself, but it appeared the walls he had built around himself were putting a strain on the nearly peaceable relationship he had with Helen, preventing him from reaching her and enjoying what they had together.

He had to make a choice to either drop his walls and enjoy the company and care of his lovely wife while accepting the vulnerability that came with it, or hold on to his walls and wallow in the misery and self-pity that had been his companions for the past decades. The answer was quite clear, but then old habits died hard, and it would take quite some effort.

* * *

Helen rushed up the stairs, and getting to her room, she threw herself on her bed before proceeding to scream out her frustration into her pillow.

She couldn't believe she had said all that to Alexander. Everybody knew the man had his secrets, which he had every right to, and she hardly thought that calling him out in that way would cause him to be more open. It seemed rather likely that she might lose the little intimacy that they had achieved.

It was hard though to remain content with the little they shared, but she hoped she had not just demanded too much too soon. The man had a wealth of pain hiding behind a wall inside his heart, and every now and then she got a glimpse during his occasional outbursts.

She realized as she lay down that her problem was that she was not content with just glimpses of his pain. She wanted the full story, as that was the only way that she could understand who the magnificent man that her husband really was, and she wanted to know about the experiences that had molded him into the man he was at present.

But she knew better. She knew that picking at a person's pain was hardly the way to endear yourself to them, and she truly hoped he didn't completely shut her out. Her impulsive personality was at fault, and she just hoped she had not destroyed everything.

She was wallowing in her self-recriminating thoughts when she heard a knock at the door.

"Don't bother, Rose. I will not be going on my walk anymore. You can take the day off," she called out from her place on the bed.

She was definitely not going to enjoy a walk, with the way she felt at this point. She would prefer to stay indoors and nurse her wounds, thank you very much.

"Helen, please open the door," the deep masculine voice that definitely did not belong to Rose responded, making her leap out of bed.

She tried to regain her composure and tried to rearrange her hair and straighten the side flattened from lying on it. She promptly gave up when a knock came again.

"Alex?" she asked in surprise, seeing him dressed in his shirt sleeves alone.

His shirt was open at the throat, revealing a span of bronzed skin for her appreciation. She was so lost in feasting her eyes on his sheer physical beauty that she almost did not catch his next words.

"I don't think you need your maid. You are fine this way. I would like to take a stroll in the gardens with you," he said, his eyebrow raised in question, his hand extended.

He didn't appear to be angry with her, and maybe the morning air might serve to calm her chaotic mind.

Taking her hand, he smiled down at her and then led her into the gardens. The gardens in Blackhill were colorful in comparison with the morose nature of the castle. The gardens were obviously tended with care. The flowers were well tended, and hedges were sheared in perfect square. That told her something about the man beside her.

"Do you like flowers, Your Grace?" she asked tentatively

"Just as much as the next man, but I am not that attached to them. Why do you ask?"

"Your garden is quite beautiful and well-tended. I hypothesized that you must love flowers and nature."

"Sorry to disappoint you, pet," he said, chuckling, "but my mother was the flower lover and not me. This was her favorite place in the entire castle."

His eyes turned introspective. Helen suspected he was seeing a completely different picture, probably a memory of his mother.

This was the first time he mentioned his parents. She offered the only comfort she could, rubbing his arm in consolation. At the feel of her touch, he smiled down at her, sadness lingering in his eyes.

"She sounds like she was a wonderful person," Helen said softly.

Alexander answered with a rueful smile, "Indeed, she was."

Of course, Sabrina was one of a kind. It was a pity she had the misfortune of marrying the abusive man who became his father, but that wasn't her fault.

His parents' marriage was one of convenience and mutual benefit. It was unfortunate that his father had managed to crush her fragile spirit.

The garden had been Sabrina's only place of solace in the times when his father flew into one of his rages. She brought Alexander with her to the garden and taught him about the beauty of flowers and their stages of growth. The feel of the earth under his fingers quietened his mind in those moments of fear. Even now that he was grown, he still came to the gardens for solace and solitude, a break from the chaos of his daily life, and the garden always welcomed him like his mother's hug.

This was the only way Alexander could keep his mother's memory alive, and he was proud of this beauty. He preferred to enjoy it privately, but bringing Helen to his sanctuary was the first step towards greater intimacy with her.

He realized that she had gone way out of her comfort zone to make this marriage work. It was not easy for a woman to leave such a happy home to get married to a cynical shell of a man with more thorns than a rose. It was now time to make sacrifices for the sake of the delicate emotional intimacy they shared.

He guided her till they got to a clearing where he had set up the next step in his apology campaign, and her reaction made all the efforts seem justified.

"My God," she gasped, her eyes wide, "what is this?"

"A peace offering of sorts. I am really sorry about the way I acted at the ball. It was really uncalled for and grossly unfair to you," he said with a remorseful tone.

"How were you able to prepare all this in such a short time frame?" she asked, smiling widely, one of her palms flattened on her chest in an expression of surprise.

Anything was possible when you had a matchmaking agency for house staff. It is said that if you wanted to get information about an aristocratic family, the staff had better information than a historical library. It was not quite surprising to notice that they had picked up on the tension between him and his wife, so the moment Alexander asked the cook to prepare food for a picnic, the entire household assembled, all eager to help, the cook and the housekeeper bombarding him with advice on how best to treat his wife.

Under normal circumstances, servants had no right to openly share their opinions with their employers uninvited, but Alexander had a unique relationship with his staff, as they had raised him from when he was just a boy and had struggled with him through thick and thin. They had become a makeshift family—an even better one than his stepfamily.

Besides, with their remarkable team effort, the picnic was set up with the speed of lightning. However, it was not necessary to repeat that to Helen. After all, a man should have his secrets.

In a few minutes, Alexander had Helen settled on a blanket on the floor, and she took her time admiring the spread before her.

"This is too much," she said, turning to him. "You shouldn't have done this."

"Why? Is a man not allowed to prepare surprises for his wife?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Helen simply arched an eyebrow at his reply.

"Forgive me?"

There was a long silence, so long that Alexander was beginning to wonder what else he was supposed to do to earn her forgiveness.

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why did you react that way at the ball?" she elaborated, seeing the confused look on his face.

"As you know, my half-siblings do not like me very much and recently have decided to create scandals with me at the center simply to blackmail me into doing their bidding. It seems that they have decided to include you as a new pawn in their ridiculous game. When I didn't see you at the ball, I admit I was scared that you were attacked or something even worse. It was worsened still by the fact that a man was following you from the ladies' powder room. It appears that the moment I found you, you were just a few heartbeats away from becoming the main character in a scandalous story, and trust me, you don't want to be notorious. It is exhausting."

Helen could see that it was really exhausting. It must have been. Alexander had endured the brunt of the misinformation against him, since Society matrons were in support of the stories no matter how outlandish they sounded. It was probably exhausting to have such unbelievable rumors believed by every person in Society and be denied the chance to defend your honor.

It was quite a pity to be able to see how this man had been transformed from an innocent young boy who loved gardening and the outdoors to this man who sat across from her, who was cynical and closed off. She now appreciated the effort he was making in letting her in through the walls that had protected him over the years.

"I didn't notice I was being followed," she admitted softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't consider what being in that house must have meant to you. I should have been more careful. And you do not need to do so much to earn my forgiveness. All I ask for is that you open up to me."

* * *

Alexander did not like the look of pity in Helen's eyes. He had only told her about his family to get her to understand him a little better, and so she could understand the danger she might be in. He was no longer that pathetic, little boy who had yearned for his father or his stepmother to show him some modicum of affection.

He was a successful businessman and a powerful figure in society, so he would prefer not to be pitied. To distract himself, he changed the topic.

"My sister's wedding will be coming up in a week's time. I trust you have things set for the event?" he asked her gently.

"That soon?"

"Yes, apparently my sister seems to be in quite a rush to get married. Something about not wanting to wait to be joined to the love of her life," he said, snorting in a way that showed he didn't believe that to be true in any way.

It was more likely Sophia wanted to snap the wealthy Earl before his family realized that she had probably lied about her personality and the financial background of her family, because the truth remained that his stepmother had managed to squander both the substantial funds settled on both herself and his siblings and had moved on to Sophia's dowry most likely with the hope of blackmailing him into providing the money from his business.

They had sucked the estate dry so much that by the time Alexander was of age, he had inherited a shell of a dukedom with nothing except for the land and the castle which was entailed in the title.

He was sure if there had been a legal way to sell those off, his stepmother would have. His father had made the tactical mistake of making the sleazy Mr. Stephen the legal counsel for the dukedom and his legal guardian. It was unfortunate that the man was seduced by his wily stepmother, and he released information to her that was supposed to be professional secrets in order to please her. She had promptly dropped him after wringing him dry of information.

When Alexander grew older and heard about it, he had sworn to be a stronger man, not a weak man like his father and the unfortunate Mr. Stephen, who had tried to redeem himself by providing the information about the contract and some private dealings that had helped Alexander.

When he thought about his life, Alexander believed that it would make one amazing story for the opera, with its numerous plot twists that would keep the viewers on the edge of their seats.

Even he was surprised by how his life unfolded sometimes.

It was unfortunate that he could not resist the temptation of pulling the fresh and innocent Helen into the drama that was his life. The best he could do was prepare her as best as he could.

"I should probably warn you. You have probably gleaned from your first meeting with my sister that she has a barbed tongue and intimidating tendencies, but she is by far the most docile member of my stepfamily. My half-brother and stepmother, on the other hand, are skilled in the art of manipulation and blackmail. They have been honing their skills on me and other members of the ton for years, and they are not above using you to get back at me. So, stay close to me at all times and try as much as possible to avoid having private meetings with them. They are experts at turning even the most innocuous situation into a scandal. I should know. I have been a victim several times over."

Helen let out a worried sigh. "I would admit that the prospect of meeting them does not particularly thrill me, and all this talk of blackmail scares me silly. They are such beautiful people. Why would anyone want to do that?" she asked, perplexed

"Ah, love," he replied, taking her hand, "not everyone has your pure and beautiful heart. Do not fret. Just be yourself. Besides, I will be by your side throughout."

She nodded, even though she still looked shaken.

"Now, enough talk about my stepfamily," he declared, clapping his hands together. "Let's enjoy this meal set for us. Shall we?"

"Yes," she agreed, nodding with a smile. "Everything looks good!"

The next few minutes were agony for Alexander as he watched Helen put the fruit in her mouth, its juice wetting her lips and dripping a little. It enhanced the pinkness of her plump lips. When her tongue darted out to lick the juice from her lips, he swung his legs as lust shot straight through him faster than a bullet.

"You are not eating Alex?" she asked in what he thought must be a concerned tone, but he was too engrossed with her lips to be sure.

He offered a non-committal grunt in answer as he was incapable of any words at the moment. The sight of her very pink tongue darting out to lick her lips just kicked his arousal into overdrive. Before he knew what was happening, he was shifting the dishes with one swipe of his hand and drew her into his lap.

In the next moment, those intoxicating lips were under his, and he was devouring them with reckless abandon. Ah, she tasted like the sweet tang of strawberries and her. Helen returned the kiss, opening her mouth to allow his tongue in. Their tongues dueled as the kiss turned molten.

Alexander broke the kiss to lay Helen down gently on the cloth and then proceeded to nibble down her throat, alternating between nipping and sucking on her throat until she was reduced to a mass of whimpers. One of his hands made short work of loosening her bodice and freeing her glorious breasts, and then he proceeded to suck one cherry nipple while torturing its twin.

Now, Helen was writhing, but she managed to force out between her pants, "Outside. Alex, we are outside."

"No one will see, no windows are on this side of the castle," he replied between kisses, not bothering to raise his head.

That seemed to reassure Helen as her fingers tightened in his hair. Her body writhed with the pleasure he was giving her.. Pleasuring her gave him pleasure, and he was just one heartbeat away from coming.

He felt her hand fiddling with the fastening of his breeches. Soon it was open, and she put her hand in to caress him. He hissed in pleasure.

"Please, pet, you have to stop. I won't last long if you continue to do that," he gasped, but Helen ignored him and boldly stroked his member until he wanted to explode.

He held both her hands above her and then lined himself with her wet heat. After a few thrusts and strumming her clit, she was shouting out her orgasm, and he followed soon after.

* * *

Helen could not believe that some members of the ton believed that the marriage act should be endured and not enjoyed. She understood from the gossip among the maids that not every couple enjoyed such bliss. If all couples enjoyed this bliss, how they would get anything done? It took a considerate man to make it good for his wife or lover, and Alexander was considerate. It was one of the reasons she loved him.

Loved?

Helen shot off her bed in surprise as the thought took root. Was it possible she'd somehow fallen for her husband?

She had always known that she cared about Alexander, but it seemed that care had transformed into love without her paying attention.

It would have been a good thing she'd have celebrated if perhaps they had a normal marriage, or she knew he shared her sentiment, but his concern for her and willingness to open up to her about his past didn't translate to love, and she was not ready to destroy the fragile thing they had by blurting out her feelings.

It seemed she was destined to love her Duke secretly. It had to be enough. She would make it enough.