Chapter 5

Early the next morning, Alexander set out riding his horse, a handsome Arabian stallion aptly called Spitfire for his fiery nature, to meet up with his bride-to-be at Hyde Park for a stroll.

Much like Helen, the stallion had been a challenging one to break and had wounded a number of men before finally yielding. Nonetheless, every so often, he still threw powerful tantrums.

Alexander gave himself a mental shake as he realized he had been smiling and thinking of the stubborn girl. It was concerning how everything seemed to remind him of her and how she had made a comfortable home in his thoughts and dreams for herself more often these days.

He remembered the dream he had had the night before, and a cold sweat broke out on his back at the vision of her legs tangled with his, with his hands palming the soft curves of her hips that teased him whenever she walked. Her body was unbelievable, and he struggled to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw her.

He groaned as he felt himself throb with lust again this early in the day and broke into a fast trot across Hyde Park in hopes of restoring order to his rebellious mind and body. He found that it worked for the most part because by the time he stopped at the bank of the Serpentine, he was calmer, and his raging lust had settled into a small flame.

"Alex! Your Grace!" a familiar voice called.

He looked up, and just like that, all the work he had done to keep his composure crumbled to dust as he spotted the figure responsible for his trouble.

Helen rode towards him, the very picture of beauty in a navy riding dress that accentuated the cobalt of her eyes and the very feminine curves of her body. Her dark hair was pinned securely under a small blue hat, yet some strands chose to escape, giving her a delicate windswept look.

Her pale skin shone in the soft glare of the sun, with a slight pink hue creeping into her cheeks as she neared, alerting him that he was not alone in his troubles. She too desired him even if she seemed hell-bent on denying it. He wondered briefly if she flushed just as beautifully everywhere.

His pants tightened again, and fearing she would notice, he turned his horse, willing himself to calm down.

When she neared him, he finally noticed she rode astride and shook his head with amusement at her continual attempts to get him to cancel the marriage. Of course, his fiery bride did nothing in half measures. He had wondered how long she would continue her attempts to get him to cancel the marriage.

When she finally stopped, she dismounted ungracefully before he could even help her down, and he caught a glimpse of… breeches?

The little minx was wearing breeches underneath her dress. His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he looked around, wondering if anyone else noticed. It took great effort from him to school his expression.

The tiny woman was making him lose his carefully crafted composure, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Good morning, Your Grace," she greeted with a sunny smile.

The brilliance of her smile confused him, effectively dousing the anger he had felt and knocking all rational thought out of his mind. Her cobalt-blue eyes lit up with mischief, and her body was literally vibrating with excitement.

"You wear breeches?" he blurted out, chiding himself when the words were out.

"Y-yes, I do," she stuttered, obviously taken aback by the question. She recovered quickly, though, smiling triumphantly. "They are quite comfortable for riding. Don't you think so? You men are so lucky."

She looked so proud of herself that he wanted to laugh, which caused him to choke when she faced him and lifted her skirts to show him.

He averted his eyes, but not before he caught how the tight-fitting pants hugged her figure. His pants tightened again as his hands itched to run over her body.

"Helen!" he scolded her.

"What is it, Alex?"

"Please drop your dress."

"Why? I'm showing you something," she said oh so innocently.

"I know, and I've seen enough of it," he begged.

"All right."

"But you see why I wear it. It is not particularly popular with the ton, but it is perfect for me," she went on, unaware or rather not caring how she had nearly killed him. "I'm sure you would not approve of such behavior in your future duchess, but I'm telling you now that if you do insist on marrying me, I do not intend to stop."

Helen smiled, obviously satisfied with herself.

Let's see if he'll still marry me.

She was sure this would be the final straw that gave her freedom. No self-respecting lord would appreciate his wife riding all over town astride a horse, wearing breeches of all things.

"That is very practical of you and safer too. That means if we do a race, you'll actually be able to compete," he said finally, stunning her. "I never could understand how women steered horses down precarious slopes while riding sidesaddle. Plus, since you're wearing breeches, I won't have to be too worried about you being exposed."

Helen's jaw dropped in shock. The Duke just gave her a knowing smirk.

She had really thought that would have been enough to keep him from marrying her. If anything, it made him want her even more, and he imagined her body on full display in those breeches.

When his mind started straying towards seeing her out of the breeches, he coughed, shaking the thought out of his mind.

Looking around, his brow furrowed in confusion at another thing he noticed.

"Where is your chaperone?" he asked with a frown.

"My maid was occupied when I left the house, so I decided to let her be."

Of all the foolhardy, silly things she had done…

Alexander realized that talking to his bride or scolding her benefited him little except for more defiance, so he decided to try a new tactic.

A predatory gleam entered his eyes, and he advanced, closing the space between them. If she didn't think him dangerous enough to be alone with, he would help her see.

Dropping his voice to a low timbre that sent a becoming flush through her skin, he said, "Are you sure you didn't leave her behind on purpose?"

"And… and why would I do that?" Her voice shook as he crowded her against a tree.

The park was basically empty, so it wasn't hard to play such a risky game with her.

"I don't know," he said, keeping his tone playful as he leaned forward to tease her earlobe. "Perhaps you have some other reason for coming to the park."

"What other reason would I have to come here except for our ride?" she asked innocently, but her breathlessness showed him that his plan was working.

"Why, so you could be alone with me, of course." He gave her a lopsided grin, effectively trapping her against the tree.

Her cheeks and neck were flaming red now, and the exposed strip of skin at the top of her breasts heaved as her breathing quickened.

"But I'm not alone with you," she stated, finding her voice as he leaned closer to her. "We are in a public park, so I don't need a chaperone."

"Are you certain about that?" he asked with an enigmatic smirk, placing a kiss on the side of her neck.

Her shiver made him smile. He knew he was going too far in his attempt to scare her, but he was having too much fun seducing her to care.

She looked around, realizing that even though they were standing in a public park, they were very much alone, as it was still quite early—far earlier than the fashionable hours that the ton kept. The park was so devoid of people that they might as well be standing in a secluded alcove.

When she looked back at Alexander, his smile had grown with amusement, seeing the realization in her eyes. He advanced closer.

No!Helen screamed inwardly, even though her body screamed, Yes!

She knew how this ended. This time she was in danger of begging him to kiss her if this advanced any further.

Just then, a blur of fur caught the side of her vision as a stray dog darted by, and in the next minute, a pained moan split the air. That stopped the Duke in his tracks, and they both turned towards the sound. An elderly woman was lying on the ground and trying and repeatedly failing to get back on her feet. They both hastened to the spot.

"Are you all right, Madam?" Helen asked in concern.

"I am quite fine. Help me up, will you?"

Alexander caught up with them and offered his arm. The lady turned to him, and a brilliant smile split her face. Alexander could not help smiling back.

"My love, you're back," she said, clutching his hand tightly. Alexander's smile died a natural death. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, I don't…"

"Thank goodness, you are back. Nobody will dare refer to me as a widow again, will they? Not when my husband is alive and well."

Helen clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. This was getting even better; the woman thought he was her dead husband. Since he wanted a wife so badly, the universe had provided him with one.

He looked torn between running for dear life or helping the confused woman. The woman, on the other hand, didn't mind his lack of enthusiasm and proceeded to rub her cheek on his hand like a cat. Alexander let her while he figured out what to do.

The snort escaped Helen and made him turn to see her desperately fighting to suppress her laughter. He gave her a warning look. Instead of being apologetic, a mischievous gleam entered her eyes.

"Why, Sir, don't you help your sweet wife up, so you can take her home and take proper care of her? She has clearly missed you," Helen suggested, her eyes dancing in obvious enjoyment.

He narrowed his eyes in warning, but she ignored it and continued, "She must have been so lonely, waiting all this time for you to come home. You don't want to keep her waiting anymore, do you?" she asked sweetly.

Alexander turned to the elderly lady to see her looking up at him with a rather hopeful look on his face. He smiled at her, heaved a long-suffering sigh, helped her up, and led her towards his coach, which was waiting at the edge of the park. He was going to use it to take Helen sightseeing, but he guessed it would have to serve a different purpose. Helen led both of their horses over to the coachman, who tied them to the back of the coach.

After settling the old lady and Helen in the coach, Alexander instructed the driver to take them to Stromborn Manor. He had recognized the lady when he first saw her face. She was the Dowager Countess of Stromborn, who was known for her love of morning strolls and stray dogs. With her display today, it seemed it was time that such excursions came to an end, as her mind seemed to be bending to the effects of old age.

Throughout the journey, the Dowager Countess kept a firm hold of his hands, and her grip only slackened when she drifted off to sleep. Helen had an amused look throughout the short journey to the Countess's home, and Alexander gave her one in return that spelled retribution once they saw the woman well settled. Helen shot him a daring look that made him chuckle and shake his head. The damn girl was too troublesome for her own good.

When their party arrived at the manor, he and Helen introduced themselves to the butler, who rushed frantically towards the coach when Alexander explained the reason for their presence. Apparently, the Dowager Countess had somehow slipped away from the house without her companion knowing, and they'd already had almost all their staff out searching for her.

When they had successfully transported the sleeping Countess into the manor, Alexander expressed his concern to the butler and advised him to keep a better eye on her. He would have preferred to talk to the Dowager Countess's son himself, but the young Earl and his Countess were not in town for this Season. The Duke made a mental note to write a letter to the Earl when he returned home.

When the butler and the frantic companion went to see the Dowager Countess settled, Alexander turned back to see that Helen still had an amused look on her face.

"What is it?" he asked with a frown.

"You certainly handled that well. You were the very picture of a devoted and caring husband," she said, laughing at the exasperated look he threw her way.

When she finally got her laughter under control, she noticed that the Duke was not laughing.

"It's a good thing." She smiled at him.

"Did it convince you to marry me?" He smiled back. A full-toothed smile that made her stop and stare.

She had never seen him that way, and she admitted he was rather handsome when he smiled.

"No, but it was a good attempt," she answered.

"Huh? I guess I'll have to try harder." He pouted, making her laugh.

"How? You'll look for more elderly ladies to save?"

"No," he said seriously. "I'll look for more elderly ladies with a love for stray dogs to save."

A loud peal of laughter escaped her before she could control it, and when she finally quieted, she found the Duke's gaze was fixed on her lips with a rather hungry look on his face.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth went dry, her tongue subconsciously darting out to lick her lips. She felt hot as his pupils dilated, his green eyes darkening.

She wondered at all the strange sensations she was feeling, and even though she had read in novels that they were all symptoms of desire, she still found it hard to believe that she desired the Duke when she barely knew him and, even stranger, that he desired her.

He moved closer as if spellbound, and she could feel her body throbbing in anticipation. Her mind blanked till everything around them faded into the background.

She became increasingly aware of him, his sandalwood scent made her want to lean in closer, and his proximity let her feel the heat coming off him in soothing waves, reminding her of a warm furnace on a cold winter day. The matching increased rate of their breathing and the relentless throbbing in the lower parts of her body both scared her and made her want something she couldn't name.

In some faint part of her mind, she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, and if she would finally get to experience what it felt like to be kissed.

He advanced even closer till her chest was pressed against his, and there was no space between them. It felt so improper because they were in someone's home, and anyone could come in at any time, but it only fueled a dark desire inside her.

Who was this wanton woman she had become?

His eyes asked the question she hoped he would, and she felt herself nod, her eyes closing in anticipation. She felt his breath on her lips, and he was oh so close to her that she felt she would die if he moved away now.

Finally, she felt his lips brush against hers, gently first and then firmly, and then nipping her bottom and upper lip in a rhythm that drove her insane. She tried to match his kisses, but the intensity of his desire was so strong that she let him have his way with her mouth.

She moaned into his mouth as she itched to get even closer to him, her hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling softly. His groan reverberated through him, and she absorbed the vibrations.

He finally slowed the kiss and then licked at her lips gently, urging her to open her mouth. She did, and his tongue touched hers, sending liquid heat through her.

He tasted like dark coffee and blueberries, a sweet and bitter combo that had her moaning into his mouth. Their tongues wrestled for dominance, and she felt him slide his hand into her hair. He drew even closer and then proceeded to kiss her senseless till she was almost in his lap.

The loud sound of one of the doors in the manor being shut jolted Helen back to reality, and she forcefully broke away from the Duke, panting heavily. Her hands went to her hair, trying to restore order to her appearance, shaking as the reality of what had just happened between them sank in.

"It is fine," he told her, but her hands still fussed over her hair. "Leave it," he said more firmly, placing a hand on hers, but she pulled away.

She could not believe that she had kissed the Duke in someone else's home in broad daylight like a wanton.

To think she had been making plans to avoid marrying the Duke. What use was it if one look from him could make her abandon all reason and jump into his arms?

Alexander must have noticed from her expression that something was wrong.

"Helen," he asked, "what's wrong?"

She looked away from him, clenching her fists. Anger filled her, trying to hide the shame she felt.

He placed a hand that was supposed to be soothing on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, hating how her body responded to his.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, rising from her seat.

"Helen, what?—"

"Don't."

"Talk to me." He sounded so concerned that tears pooled in her eyes.

"Stop. Leave me alone," she cried. "I hate you. It seems you're the type to do whatever it takes to get what you want, including stooping so low as to seduce an innocent. I have always made it known that I do not want to marry you, but you insist on forcing me into a marriage just for your own selfish reasons. You are truly despicable."

She knew the moment had words had sunk in, as his face turned dark with suppressed rage. If she wanted the Duke gone, she had finally succeeded.

His expression was so stony, he could have been carved from granite. He had a cold look in his eyes that tore at something in her heart.

"It seems I misinterpreted our encounters as something cordial, but I have learned my lesson. I never intended to force you to marry me. I had hoped to show you how good things could be between us, but I was mistaken. I will never force a woman to marry me. Good day, Helen," he spat with a stiff bow and then left her standing in the Dowager Countess's drawing room.

It took her some time to calm herself and step out of the house. When she neared her horse, which the Duke had left tied out front, it felt like everything that had happened during the past hour was nothing more than a bad dream she had just woken from.

She rode back home in a haze, like she had her head underwater. She barely noticed anything around her, even though the streets of London were packed with towners shopping and networking and trading gossip.

She was greeted often by people she had been introduced to at previous balls, and she spared them short greetings and continued till she was home. When she got home, she found her father standing at the door, beaming.

"It seems all is going well with the Duke," he noted.

"Indeed, Papa," she lied. "Good day."

"Good day, my dear." He was positively radiating excitement, which stoked flames of guilt within her. "I'm very glad you are getting along well with him. I'm proud of you. I'm sure your mother would have been too."

"I'm glad too, Papa," she replied, with a forced smile.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't want you to marry the Duke, but…" he trailed off with a sigh.

"What is it, Father?" she asked, squeezing his arms with concern.

"I didn't want to tell you or your sister this, but I guess I can now," he started. "You see, the estate is in dire financial straits, and I'd been worried that I wouldn't be able to care for you and your sister, but since I'm getting the Duke as a son-in-law, I guess I won't need to worry about that anymore."

That was news to Helen, but she guessed she wasn't supposed to be surprised. The reduced quality of the fare the cook served the past few months hinted at that, even if her father had always been keen to wave off observations to that effect.

"I guess not," she answered, before realizing that she had in fact just ruined her father's hope for happiness.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. The ache in her heart for telling off the Duke and the added threat of poverty was proving quite too much for one day.

"May I be excused, Father? I have to go lie down."

"Are you well, child?"

"Yes. I just need time to recuperate before the noon meal."

"All right. Go and have some rest, my dear." He smiled. "I'll see you at the noon meal, then."

She nodded and somehow found the strength to climb up the stairs to her chamber.

In the privacy of her bedroom, she slid to the floor, burying her head in her hands. Even if she didn't want to get married to the Duke, she had to do so for her family's sake, but she would have to find him and apologize first before it was too late.