Chapter 8

Helen left the Duke's mansion in a daze. She had known that the Duke had approached her for marriage for political reasons. He had told her it was a marriage of convenience. But it was infinitely better to suspect that than have it confirmed to her in very clear terms.

She had just witnessed why he was nicknamed the Ruthless Duke because when it came to getting whatever he wanted, he went in ruthless pursuit, willing to do anything to get it. Apparently, she was the object of his pursuit, and she had deluded herself into thinking that she could have resisted.

The man was so intense and brooding that she wondered why he had not chosen the path most of the members of the ton had taken by raking their way through the ladies of the ton because, frankly, she didn't think that he would have had to put in a lot of work.

The man was a magnetic field of his own. Whenever he had turned the full force of his seductive wiles on her, she was always helpless to resist. Frankly, if she were being honest to herself, if not for the Duke's honor and his iron-clad self-control, she was sure she would have been ruined a long while ago, considering the number of times she had ended up in compromising positions with him.

Now that she thought about it, the Duke could be cold, calculating, vexing, and quite a lot of other things, but at his core, he was an honorable man because while she might be untried in the ways of the bedroom, she knew that a man who had such erotic power over a lady could use it as leverage to trap her into marriage. Many fortune hunters of the ton had used this to trap unsuspecting heiresses into marriage.

Considering the circumstances that surround the marriages of members of the ton, it was little wonder that they were bitter. The wives turned to barely concealed affairs, and the husbands amassed a string of mistresses they maintained with little money from their already failing estates.

The ton were prone to foolish behavior, in Helen's opinion, but they tried to cover for their faults by making new dresses, slathering their faces with paint, creating ridicule rules, gossiping, and humiliating people who had a small modicum of happiness.

In essence, the ton were sad people clothed in beautiful dresses, and Helen, having noticed all of this earlier, had sworn not to have a marriage of convenience. She had sworn to marry for love, like some of her friends. And even though she was given to flights of fancy, she had hoped that fate might help her find that treasure so few people got in their lifetime. If not, she was willing to settle for at least a good friendship with her spouse.

Unfortunately, she did not think she could describe the Duke as a friend. For one, her friends did not cause the heat and desire she felt around him. She also knew little about the Duke, now that she thought about it. Besides his name, his family title, and his house, she knew next to nothing about who the man, Alexander Osbourne, the fifth Duke of Blackhill, was.

Well, she guessed some brides of the ton had even less information about their grooms, as they sometimes met their grooms for the first time at the altar. At least, Helen had seen her Duke in person—every ridiculously handsome aspect of his features that was not covered by his clothes, of course. Even if she could not have his friendship, she could count on the heat between them to keep her warm during cold nights.

Of course, he cared about her in other ways too—maybe not in the ways of a man besotted with his wife, but he was surely attentive. At least he had sent the butler to bring his carriage to take her back to her family's townhouse under the cover of night since, apparently, he didn't trust that she would be safe taking a hackney at such a late hour of the night.

Ha!! Dark hour. It was barely eight o'clock. She would prefer to think that was out of care rather than being a manifestation of the overbearing nature of his character.

When she got back home, she opened the door and tiptoed past a sleeping Mr. Biggins. The poor man was obviously snoring up a storm on a seat at the entrance. It wasn't easy working as a butler at his age—another servant was supposed to assist him, but her father had dismissed the other one when he was caught harassing maids in the house and had declined to hire another. He argued that they had very few guests, anyway.

Now that Helen thought about it, their financial problems must have started long before that time. Trust her father to keep all that secret because he didn't want his daughters to worry their ‘pretty' heads.

Helen rolled her eyes at that thought. She would prefer to be informed about a situation that affected her and her future, thank you very much. She wouldn't blame her papa, since members of the ton thought money to be a vulgar topic and not fit for polite discussion. They preferred to sit with their spines ramrod straight, drinking tea while their households and estates collapsed into ruins behind their backs.

That picture was quite funny. Helen chuckled while ascending the stairs.

"You must have had an adventure for the ages this night, going by the way you are smiling from ear to ear." The sound of her sister's voice caused her to jump in surprise. She almost missed her step and had to hold on to the banister to avoid falling.

Placing her hand on her chest, Helen looked up in the direction of the voice. Margaret was standing at the landing of the staircase.

"Goodness, Maggie, you startled me," Helen whisper-screamed. Then, slowly making her way towards Margaret at the top of the stairs, she asked, "What are you still doing awake? I had assumed you had retired earlier in the evening."

"Yes, I did, but I was awoken by the sound of a carriage outside my window. I am guessing that was the carriage bringing you back home. Well, I could not go back to sleep, so I decided to come below stairs for some milk in the hope that it would help me go back to sleep faster." Then pausing dramatically, Margaret continued, "Imagine my surprise to see my sister sneaking into the house with the biggest smile in the whole of Mayfair on her face. Well, I think I am up for some late-night story time, so start spilling."

Drat, Helen had forgotten that her sister was a very light sleeper who woke up at the slightest provocation. Of course, if there was anyone in their household that would have caught her, it was her sister.

Helen hung her head in defeat and led the way to her bedroom. When they were inside, Margaret made a beeline for the bed, jumping up to sit on it while bouncing on it like an excited schoolgirl. Apparently, she was slowly returning to her normal self, and Helen admitted she was cute when she showed such excitement.

"So, how was your clandestine meeting with the Duke?"

Well, Helen would take back the comment about her sister being cute. Margaret was a crafty one.

"Who said I met with the Duke tonight?" Helen asked, looking away and attempting to deflect.

But since she already felt her face heating up in embarrassment, Margaret had already come to a conclusion.

"That is quite easy. No other man in the whole of London could make you smile that way. It was a miracle your face didn't split in two. I don't blame you. The man is definitely handsome," Margaret said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

The Duke was definitely not the reason why Helen was smiling earlier, but that was not the point, and it didn't make sense to argue.

"Has he kissed you yet?" Margaret asked, with a sly smirk on her face.

Helen looked away, flushing even brighter, and she prayed the semidarkness in the room would conceal her blush, but Margaret had wonderful eyesight.

"Ah, you did," she crowed in obvious enjoyment.

Helen shook her head in amazement. Of course, she loved the journey her sister was taking towards recovering her true self, but Helen was not sure she loved this aspect of her sister's personality. She was happy Margaret was enjoying herself, but not when it was at her own expense.

"Well, tell me, my dearest, how was it? Judging by your expression, it was one earthshaking kiss." Margaret paused, and then her face dropped into an expression of concern.

Great. Sensible Maggie is back.

"But in all seriousness, what was so important that you decided to take a stroll all the way to the Duke's house? He lives on the other side of Mayfair. That was quite dangerous, the risk of ruination being the least of the dangers. Highway thieves have been known to roam that road. I really hope that the reason you went there was achieved because that was one risky adventure, in my opinion."

"Do not fret, Sister. I was quite careful. I know I can be impulsive, but trust me, I am not that careless."

"All right, why did you need to meet with the Duke?" Margaret asked, a curious furrow forming on her brow.

At that, Helen looked away in embarrassment, wringing her hands. "The Duke and I had a falling out earlier today, and he called off the marriage. I went this evening to apologize, since I was the cause of the argument."

"That had to be a very serious disagreement for the Duke to call of the marriage." Then looking at her sister curiously, Margaret continued, "I thought that would be welcome news. You have been making earnest efforts to make the Duke call it off."

At this, Helen was silent as she contemplated how to provide answers to that question. She saw when realization dawned on Margaret because her eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't tell me this is because of our family's financial problems!"

Now, it was Helen's turn to be surprised.

"How did you know?"

"Firstly, I am not blind, I can see the downsizing happening in our home, even though Papa does his best to be subtle about it. I also had a conversation with Papa earlier today, when I brought to his notice some lags in the household management. It took some prodding, but he finally admitted the truth."

Right, Helen had forgotten that Margaret was also a very observant lady, and in the absence of their mother, she ran the household accounts, so it stood to notice that she would notice any change in the running of the household.

"I don't want you to feel you have to marry the Duke to save our family. If anything, as the family's eldest daughter, I am the one meant to step up in this type of situation. It is settled. At first light, I am paying a visit to the Duke. If he must marry a Honeyfield girl, he can marry me," Margaret declared with a determined tilt of her chin.

Helen knew that look. Margaret hardly showed the stubborn side of her personality, since she was usually mild-tempered, but when she decided on something, she was like a dog with a bone it never gave up.

"There is no need for that, Sister."

"Don't worry, Sister, you don't have to deal with that beast anymore."

"But… I care for the Duke!" Helen blurted out in desperation.

The smug look on her sister's face confirmed that she had succeeded in making Helen admit to her affection for the Duke.

"That was quite passionate," Margaret said, waving an imaginary fan, pretending to cool herself. "When is the wedding?" she continued.

"I never said the Duke had forgiven me!"

"I know men like the Duke well. They like it when you stroke their egos a little. Besides, he is quite besotted with you, even though he probably has not realized it yet."

"How are you so certain?"

"Because I have eyes, dearest, and he always looks at you like you are a meal he wants to devour in one gulp."

At that, Helen blushed to the roots of her hair.

Looking at her sister closer, she asked, "Did you pilfer Father's whiskey again?"

With all the bold and brazen things Margaret had said that night, she must have had some liquid courage. Their father hid his whiskey in his study very well, Helen might add, but there were very few things two inquisitive, adventurous girls could not find when they put their minds to it.

Margaret looked around and then smiled sheepishly. "Just a little," she said, giggling. "Don't worry, I am not that drunk if it took you this long to notice."

"Did you read any yummy books while you were at it?"

"Yes, but…"

"Tell me."

"Lord Alan Freud is deemed the rake of the Season with a record of having over ten debutantes go astray. What happens when he meets the quick-witted yet charming Lady Justine, deemed the belle of the Season, who was seemingly immune to his charms? An attraction so strong that he dares not admit it is ignited inside that has him questioning everything he thought he knew. Will he continue in his quest to conquer her at the risk of losing his heart, or will the deeper feelings he has for her send him running for dear life?"

"Didn't we read that together before?"

"Don't change the topic. When is the wedding?"

"Perhaps in a fortnight."

"Hmmm. Why the rush? Don't tell me you two have done the unthinkable," Margaret said, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Maggie! I think you need to go to bed!"

"Well, I won't go until you tell me why your Duke is rushing the wedding proceedings."

"He has a special license, and he wants to get married as soon as possible. He has his reasons."

Helen was not comfortable talking about the three-night deal with the Duke. It was an intimate detail between her and the Duke, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"From the look on your face, it doesn't look like I am getting answers to my questions today. Sweet dreams, dearest sister. I will retire now. I have a full day ahead tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What is tomorrow?" Helen asked curiously.

"I have my secrets too," Margaret said, winking at her before she left the room.

Helen shook her head in amazement. She was happy that Margaret was feeling better. She preferred this version of her sister, even though she was quite nosy and mischievous. Sadly, her sister would mostly return to normal Margaret by morning when the effect of the whiskey faded.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, preparations for the wedding began in earnest. Her engagement to the Duke was announced by Lady Amensbury, one of the leading ladies of the ton, and to say it sent a shockwave through the ton would be an understatement. After the announcement, the members of the ton expressed their surprise and offered their congratulations. Her friends dragged her off to interrogate her.

"You sly girl," Denise, one of the dark-haired twins, said with much excitement. "You never showed any inkling that you were interested in the Ruthless Duke."

"I guess your family was the one that had the contract with the previous Duke," Diana, the much quieter twin, said with a smile.

"You just made an extraordinary match. You are not just getting hitched to any nobleman, but the Duke!" Denise practically screamed, her excitement so palpable that Helen could not help smiling widely.

"I take it this means you are not cross with me?"

"Why would I be cross with you?" Denise asked, her brow furrowing with confusion.

"Why, I am marrying the Duke. You said he was your dream suitor," Helen pointed out tentatively.

At that, the twins burst into laughter

"Oh, silly girl," Denise responded, chuckling while wiping the tears at the corners of her eyes. "I say that about every good-looking male in the ton. That is perhaps the reason I am still unmarried. I can't choose," she said, and they all laughed

"You know my sister, she has a different suitor every week," Diana said, a mischievous smile on her lips, and then added in a mock whisper, "Dream ones."

"Wicked girl," Denise said, rubbing her back good-naturedly.

Helen burst into laughter; she always thought Denise was the funny one, since she was the most outspoken of the two. It appeared Diana did possess a wicked sense of humor as well.

"We are so happy for you, dearest. Promise you will enjoy your marriage with that fine man on behalf of all of us. Be happy, dear," Diana urged, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Denise repeated the same process when her sister released Helen, pulling her into an even tighter embrace.

Of all her friends, these were her closest ones, since they lived next door to their townhouse. And at this moment, Helen was grateful to have genuine friends.

But of course, not everyone would be happy, and some of the girls started spreading rumors that Helen was pregnant, hence the reason they were having such a hasty ceremony. Some said that the Ruthless Duke has struck again, forcing an innocent into marriage with him, and he wanted a hasty marriage to avoid giving the bride an opportunity to change her mind.

On one of their promenades together, Alexander explained to her that while he didn't usually care what the people of the ton thought, unfortunately, image was important in business, and he needed to maintain a good image in order to seal the deal with the Earl of Frampton. Hence, they hatched a plan to take rides in Hyde Park during the fashionable hours while holding hands and sharing impassioned looks with each other, enough to prove beyond reasonable doubt that they were a love match.

Alexander agreed that he first suggested maintaining a good image, but with every day, it became increasingly difficult to restrain himself from kissing her senseless in the middle of the park or whisking her to some convenient corner to have his wicked way with her delectable body.

The feel of her hands in his made him imagine what it would feel like to have his hands somewhere else on her body. He really could not wait for the wedding day to arrive because he was so sure that after an extra week of this self-imposed torture, he would spontaneously burst with desire.

It was thought by many rakes that familiarity dimmed desire, but he was finding that to be quite untrue, since every encounter with her seemed to rachet up the need even higher in such a way that made him suspect that just claiming her was not going to assuage it. Theirs might not be a love match, but he was counting on their mutual physical attraction to light up their marriage bed.

Over the course of the week between their meetings. Helen had several fittings for her wedding trousseau, which included sheer undergarments that caused a fierce blush whenever she thought of them. She had protested, but the modiste had insisted that the Duke had given her carte blanche to cater for all her clothing needs as a married lady. Hearing that, Helen had relented—since the Duke was paying, who was she to complain?

In her private moments, Helen wondered if the Duke would like the undergarments, and she imagined how he would show his appreciation. That just ended up getting her all hot and bothered. She made a conscious effort to not think of her handsome groom-to-be, but it seemed her mind wasn't hers in recent times.

It is said that time flies, but in her case, it seemed time slowed to a crawl, building anticipation and desire so much so that every day, she was at risk of throwing herself at the man in the middle of Hyde Park for everyone to see. The man not only looked good, but the sight of his bigger, darker hand dwarfing hers when they held hands did interesting things to her body.

The wedding night could not come soon enough, and she wouldn't be held responsible for any scandal that might ensue if she had to wait much longer.

Finally, the day arrived. Helen had a hard time sleeping the previous night; a strange feeling of nervous excitement had taken hold of her, making sleep fitful and difficult.

That morning, while she stood in her room and endured the primping of her maid and the professional hairdresser that the Duke had provided, she marveled at the fact that in a few hours, she would be married to the Duke, irrevocably tying herself to him. That fact caused mixed feelings that didn't resolve even while she set off down the aisle on the arm of her father.

When the doors of the church opened, she locked eyes with the Duke. She felt the admiration and hunger in his eyes. Now, she saw the look her sister was talking about. Seeing the mutual hunger they both felt reflected in his eyes went ways towards quieting her thoughts.

"You look radiant, my darling," he whispered to her when her father handed her over.

This was his first direct compliment, and it warmed her heart, sending the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy.

Helen didn't remember much of the ceremony; she just knew she gave the right responses at the appropriate time. Her mind was fixated on what would happen after the ceremony.

After the exchange of vows, the blessings, and a brief sermon by the priest, the ceremony came to an end, and the newlywed couple emerged out of the church. On the steps of the church, they were congratulated. Most members of the ton were in attendance, making the church full to capacity, but strangely enough, she saw no signs of the Duke's stepfamily.

Neither his mother nor his sister nor his mysterious brother was in attendance. It appeared there was a very serious strain in the Duke's relationship with members of his stepfamily. She hoped, in the future, that he would trust her enough to tell her the reason for the tension.

Just then, a familiar blond man emerged and proceeded to pull Alexander into a tight embrace, slapping his back good-naturedly. With the easy camaraderie between the two, she guessed that this was the Duke's best friend, the Marquess of Montgomery

"My congratulations, old man," he said with a chuckle. Then turning to Helen, he took her hand and kissed it. "You look amazing, Your Grace. I am sure if I were to have a goddess as bright as you, I wouldn't have any qualms about embracing matrimony," he observed, a wide smile lighting up his face.

Helen blushed at the compliment. The man was definitely not lacking in charm, which was no surprise, since he had the conventional Adonis-like beauty that had been known to devastate a lot of unsuspecting women of the ton. She admitted she might have been one of those women if not for her unfortunate infatuation with the Duke. At the moment, she was partial to just one dark-haired brooding man.

"My thanks, My Lord. You flatter me."

"Anything I say to Your Grace is the absolute truth—no hint of flattery there," he assured her, laying on the charm even thicker.

In her opinion, he was trying to get a rise out of Alexander, and it worked, since Alexander drew her even closer to himself.

"Careful, James. I suggest you go find your own bride. Hopefully, she will forgive your excesses."

At that, James raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, I am going. Enjoy your honeymoon," he said with a good-natured smile.

Alexander watched as James left, shaking his head in exasperation with a smile on his face. It warmed Helen's heart that James was able to make him smile. She could sense that the Marquess was a good friend.

Slowly, the long queue seeking to offer their congratulations dwindled, and her father and sister surfaced. Her sister proceeded to pull her into a tight embrace.

"You look amazing, my dear sister. Be happy."

Pulling away, Margaret dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and Helen felt tears well up in her eyes. She was definitely going to miss living with her papa and Maggie, but they could always visit.

"My younger sister is now a married woman. I feel like a proud mama!" Margaret admitted, and they both laughed between their sobs. Then, in a rare gesture of boldness, she turned to the Duke. "I would warn you to treat my sister well, and I would have you know that if you mistreat her in any way, you will have to contend with me."

The Duke smiled and then executed a slightly exaggerated bow. "I swear on my honor, Miss Ludlow, I will protect my wife. Never doubt it."

Helen had to admit that hearing him refer to her as his wife made her giddy, and she was definitely looking forward to the night ahead and having his undivided attention.

"My dear daughter," her father said, taking both of her hands in his, "I am really proud of the woman you have become, and I have no doubt you would build a lovely home with the Duke by your side." Then, turning to the Duke, he said, "Please take good care of her."

"I will, My Lord," Alexander answered, a good-natured smile on his face.

Dabbing his eyes with a kerchief, the Viscount set his jaw in a determined line. "May I borrow my daughter for a while, Your Grace?"

Alexander's brow furrowed in curiosity, but he relented. "Yes, you may."

The Viscount led Helen a few steps away and then stopped. He turned to her and said, "I am aware that you were never given adequate education on what to expect in the marriage bed. I aim to rectify that."

Helen was all for rectifying unfortunate situations, but the problem was that he was talking to her shoulder, since his gaze was fixed somewhere beyond her, and he was clearly fidgeting, and the way he tensed up showed he was clearly uncomfortable with the topic. The poor man was suffering, hence she decided to put an end to his misery.

"Papa," she said, smiling gently at him, "I am already suitably informed. My maid explained it to me, and remember, I have married friends. I just might be the most informed bride in the whole of London, so do not worry."

At that, the tension drained from his body, and he exhaled in relief. Poor man, it was definitely not easy playing the role of both parents for a child, but she admired him for doing the best he could. She was glad she was his daughter.

Embracing him, she placed a kiss on his weathered cheek "Stay well, Papa. I will try to visit."

He just nodded in reply.

Just then, she felt the Duke's arm on her shoulders.

"Honeyfield, I fear I must collect my wife. We have a long way to travel. I hope to cover as much ground as we can in the light of day."

"Don't let me keep you. I wish you the best of life together."

"Thank you, My Lord."

He then proceeded to take her arm, tucking it under his arm he herded her into his carriage, which was probably brought around while she had that conversation with her father.

The whole wedding ceremony was short because of the absence of a wedding breakfast. Alexander had termed it an unnecessary expense, and besides, the ton interpreted the absence of the wedding breakfast to mean that he was impatient to bed his bride.

Alexander would agree that they were right, but that was not the only reason he had to save whatever funds he had on hold for the Framptons' business. He was not about to let the estate sink after all the work he had put into restoring it. He hoped to keep the estate afloat to provide a means of livelihood for the local villagers.

The ride all the way to his estate was peaceful while he went through the papers, familiarizing himself with the recent happenings around London. When he looked over at Helen, he found that she had fallen asleep, resting her head on the wall of the carriage. She must have been tired from all the preparations because she barely stirred while he repositioned her head on his shoulder and covered her with the blanket in her lap.

At that, she snuggled even closer, like a cat, sighing with contentment. That brought a smile to Alexander's face. She looked really adorable when she slept. He rested his head back, enjoying the feel of her warm weight beside him, and slowly, her lavender scent lulled him to sleep.

He was jolted awake when the carriage stopped. A look outside the window of the carriage informed him that they had arrived at the castle. The jostling had apparently also caused Helen to wake up.

Rising slowly, she stretched and then rubbed her eyes in a way that was adorable, in Alexander's opinion.

"Have we arrived?" she asked, stretching.

It took Alexander some time to coordinate himself enough to offer a response, since he was riveted by the way that motion caused her breasts to press against her bodice in a really enticing way.

"Alex?"

"Sorry, my darling. Yes, we have arrived,"

He took care to drape his coat in a way to hide his arousal from onlookers and then he extended his hand to help her out of the carriage. He watched her look around in wonder. The smile that bloomed on her face caused an ache somewhere in his chest; she was just so beautiful, he was still finding it a little impossible to believe that this goddess was now his. His.

"Come on. Your castle awaits," he said with an exaggerated bow.

At that, Helen chuckled, smiling widely at him, and he could not help smiling back.

Taking his proffered arm, they walked towards the castle door. There, at the entrance, the servants lined up smartly, and as they walked down, Alexander introduced her to each one, ending with the housekeeper, Mrs. Adams, a handsome woman in her fifties who welcomed them both with a warm smile.

"Welcome, Your Graces. I must say, it has been ages since this castle had a mistress. I am happy we have you now, Your Grace," she said, with a bow in Helen's direction.

"I am sure you are doing a great job here, Mrs. Adams. I will be happy to work with you to keep this fine castle in good shape."

Mrs. Adams tipped her head graciously in acceptance.

"Mrs. Adams, after my Duchess takes her rest, I would like you to give her a tour of the castle. It is her home now."

"Consider it done, Your Grace," Mrs. Adams replied.

"Since that is settled, it is time to get you settled, Your Grace," Alexander said to Helen, with a boyish smile on his lips

"Of course." She made to go in, but he stopped her with a hand.

"Wait a while. We have a very important Blackhill tradition, and I will be remiss in my duties if I were to ignore it."

Helen looked at him in confusion, and he smiled mischievously. He was so going to enjoy this. With one movement, he lifted her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Why, I would think it is obvious. I am carrying my lovely bride over the threshold of the castle."

"Well, put me down. The staff are watching," she urged, blushing.

He lowered her to her feet, making sure that her body slid down his front, ensuring she felt every contour of his body.

By the time she was standing on her feet, she was blushing fiercely. Alexander smiled in satisfaction. He really enjoyed that exercise maybe more than he was supposed to, but it felt nice to discomfit Helen.

"Your Grace," the butler called.

Alexander turned to see the man standing beside him with a salver, a single letter on it.

"You have a letter from Lord Frampton."

At that, Alexander collected the letter then he called out to the butler, "Ben, ensure the Duchess is comfortable, will you?"

"Right away, Your Grace," the butler replied, but Alexander didn't hear him, as he was consumed with the thoughts of what the letter might contain.

* * *

Helen stood in the foyer of the castle feeling quite… abandoned.

The butler gave a discreet cough to get her attention, and she realized that she was standing in the middle of the foyer, looking at the door Alexander had disappeared through like a lost puppy.

"Your Grace, may I show you to your suite?"

"Yes, I would like that, but first, I would prefer to have a tour of the castle. If you could let Mrs. Adams know, I would be most grateful."

"Right away, Your Grace," he said, pivoting on his heel.

He marched back towards the entrance, most likely with the intention of fetching Mrs. Adams.

Helen might have retired upstairs, but she was filled with nervous energy, and sitting alone in her room was only going to drive her nuts, hence her decision to take the tour.

In a few minutes, she heard the sounds of footsteps and turned to see the housekeeper approaching.

"You sent for me, Your Grace?" she asked when she reached Helen.

"I decided to take the tour of the house. Perhaps you could act as my guide?" Helen requested, with a smile.

"Of course, Your Grace," Mrs. Adams replied.

And thus, Helen spent the next two hours getting acquainted with every corner of the castle. When they finished, Mrs. Adams ordered for a bath to be drawn for Helen. Helen returned to her room and found her maid had arrived with her belongings, having followed in a cart at a slower pace behind the Duke's carriage.

Soon, they set about the task of bathing Helen and brushing her hair till it gleamed in the candlelight. Her maid helped her dress in the very sheer garment that was provided for her as a wedding nightie, and Helen blushed fiercely while donning it. The garment hid nothing, and if she stood in front of a candle, every curve and crevice of her body would be exposed.

Helen donned the matching robe, but it did very little to improve the modesty of the garment, since it was made of the same material.

She gave up and sat on one of the chairs before the fireplace. She decided to read a book while waiting for her husband to come. Dinner arrived, and she tried to wait for him, but the food was getting colder, and her stomach was grumbling, so she gave up and ate.

Several hours later, there was still no sign of the Duke, and she was finding it difficult to stay awake. It seemed the Duke had gotten married to his trophy wife and now proceeded to ignore her.

She took the time to think back on all the events leading to that moment. She wondered what would have happened if her mother were alive. She did not really remember her mother, but she had always thought her father was trying more than enough to care for her and her sister, and that was enough for her. But she grew up thinking she should do something for her father in return, and that was to grow up to be the ideal lady.

So, she tried to excel at everything. And she did. That did not exclude her social life, which she greatly valued. She was a socialite and thrived in the ton. She knew many people and all the latest gossip. She was widely loved, and that led her to feel undefeated. The only thing she worried about was her sister, who had closed off herself. This has made their father worry and compare the two sisters constantly. So, Helen vowed to never marry before her sister, yet here she was.Now, she had gotten herself a match that she wasn't sure how to feel about yet.

She sighed, as one who hated to cry over spilled milk, and was about to retire to her bed when she heard a knock at the door to her chambers. Well, it seemed the Duke had decided to grace her with his presence.

She walked to the door and opened it to see the Duke standing there, and he smiled widely at her. It appeared the Duke was excited about something. He had a bottle of wine and two wine glasses in his hand.

"Celebrating?" she asked drily.

"It appears, my darling, that the Framptons have accepted my request for a business deal. If all goes as planned, we will be even richer by the end of the year. We only have one challenge. The Countess."

"How so?"

"She has been known to be the actual brain behind the business. She might appear mild-tempered, but that one is a very shrewd woman and quite picky sometimes. I just hope that our outing with them goes well because any mistake might jeopardize this deal. The woman's word is law when it comes to the Framptons' business, and while it is good to impress the Earl, it is she who holds the purse strings. I trust that you will be on your best behavior during this outing, won't you?"

There was a deafening silence that caused Alexander to turn and look at his wife… really look at her. She was absolutely radiant, and he lost his line of thought looking at her. Her hair had been brushed to a shine and cascaded down her shoulder, caressing her skin. Her night rail, if one could even call it that, was a dark blue color that enhanced the rich hue of her skin.

The garment wreaked havoc on his mind because it barely concealed anything. Even with the semidarkness, he could make out all the contours of her body, and he swore he could see the peak of one of her perfect breasts. Sitting there with her hands primly placed on her hips, she looked the perfect siren sent to unleash all his dark desires.