Helena understood, despite having just had a baby, she was a striking woman. She had always known this. It was no vanity on her part — she certainly did not think herself the most beautiful woman in the world — but she had always known that she possessed certain qualities that drew the attention of gentlemen. Her mother had taught her to use that to her advantage. A pretty exterior, she had always said, could quickly distract from certain other less attractive aspects of one’s life.
She could not deny that she had been tempted, once or twice, to accept the old Earl’s offer or those of the two gentlemen who had followed with similar propositions, because she was well and truly in dun territory by that point. Still, she had her dignity, and she intended to keep it, even if she ended up in the poorhouse.
He raised his hands. “Believe me, I have not come for that. I am not blind, and I can appreciate that you are a very handsome woman. But I am not here for that reason. I am here because of your father.”
That instantly took the wind out of her sails. “My father,” she said. “How do you know my father?”
“Perhaps if you allow me inside, I can explain. I would rather conduct this conversation privately, between you and I, and not between you, I, and the entirety of Bloomsbury.”
She pursed her lips, tilted her head to one side, and then waved him in.
Mary had taken Lavinia to the little nursery at the back of the house and was now making her way upstairs. Helena nodded at her and escorted the gentleman into the drawing room.
She was not going to offer him tea. She had no desire to have him stay longer than was necessary.
But she was curious about how he knew her father — and what exactly he knew about him. And about her.
“You said you knew my father,” she said.
He nodded, his eyes wandering briefly over the table, where it was quite clear he had been expecting tea to appear. Even if she had wished to offer it, she did not have the ready to spare on hospitality for uninvited dukes. But she was not going to let him know that.
“I knew your father when we both served in the Somerset militia. It was many years ago. We met on a few occasions when you were much younger. fifteen, perhaps.”
She nodded. “I remember his regiment being stationed up there.” She paused. “You served under him?”
“For a while, yes. He once saved my life.”
“I see,” she said, crossing her ankles. “And what does that have to do with me?”
He smiled, and she noted how square his jaw was, and how straight his nose. He looked almost as though he had been carved from stone.
“Well,” he said, “I have recently come to learn that you have fallen on hard times since the death of your late husband.”
She did not acknowledge this one way or the other.
“So, I have come to offer my assistance.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your assistance. I already told you I am not interested in any sort of proposition.”
“I am not making any illicit proposition,” he said quickly. “I have come to discuss your options. You see, the best optionfor a young woman in your position would be to remarry, and swiftly.”
“Oh,” she said, the sound coming out more like a laugh than anything else. “You have come to propose marriage to me? A complete stranger?”
“I have not,” he said. “I have already ventured down that particular path once. I did not enjoy it, and I have no intention of repeating the experience any time soon — though I may be obliged too sooner or later. But that is neither here nor there. This is about you. You need to find another husband, and if our conversation thus far is anything to go by, you need one more urgently than I had previously realized, given that you have already been propositioned in a most ungentlemanly fashion.”
“If you do not intend to offer yourself up, then why are you here? What does any of this have to do with you?”
“What it has to do with me,” he said, “is that I am a Duke. A recent one, admittedly, but a Duke, nonetheless. I have certain funds at my disposal, and a certain amount of influence. I do not mean to boast, but I was rather well connected even when I was merely a Viscount, and even before that when I was simply Mr. Blackwell. I have many connections. Surely you have heard of the Langley husbands?”
She pressed her lips together. “Everyone has heard of the Langley husbands and their wives. What do they have to do with you?”
“They are amongst my closest friends.” He paused, then seemed to catch himself.
“I do not know how that helps me, since they are called Langley husbands for a reason. Namely that they are all married to the Langley sisters or their cousins.”
He tapped his index finger on the arm of the chair, as though mildly annoyed with himself for not thinking of that sooner. “Very well. But they are not my only friends. And their friends have friends. What I am telling you is that I can offer you access to a great many gentlemen who might prove suitable.”
She leaned back. Was he offering himself up as a matchmaker? If so, this was the most peculiar thing she had ever heard. This man, of whom the scandal sheets had a very great deal to say, was sitting in her drawing room and proposing to find her a husband. Who on earth had ever heard of such a thing.
