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Her aunt’s hand fluttered to her chest as she resumed pacing around again. She ordered the maids even more quickly and efficiently, and the house became busy once more.
“Helen,” she said, “can you keep His Grace here while the footmen set the table and bring in the entrees?”
She nodded, and her heart resumed thudding uncomfortably again. Helen felt the glimmerings of what she once felt. The desire making its way up her spine, her gooseflesh forming at the base of her neck. At once, Helen made her decision.
It was an arrangement not a reason for celibacy. She wanted something more from Theodore than his wearisome conversation about books and the ruse they were keeping up. Helen wanted to spice up what they had.
She slid her hand across the damask sofa. “Yes, Aunt Gertrude, but how long will it take?”
“A few minutes,” her aunt replied. “I will make sure to keep you in sight as we cannot tell him that the food is not yet served.”
Helen shrugged. “It is because there is more food than we can hope to eat in one night. Perhaps if you had —”
Aunt Gertrude shot her an acerbic look. “The Duke is calling, and you expect the table to be less than full? How else will he know if your dowry can be paid?”
“I am quite sure that Theo— His Grace,” she corrected herself, “does not have any use for the dowry, seeing how wealthy he is.”
Theodore walked into the drawing-room, his Hessians gleaming under the scattering light from the chandelier.
“Good evening, Lady Helen,” he muttered, removing his top hat as he bowed.
Her aunt greeted him with an enthusiasm she’d never seen before. “Good evening, Your Grace. Hope the journey was not tiring?”
He laughed, and Helen’s breath caught in her throat. “Clyvedon is merely a few miles from here. I would have offered to walk, but after spending the remainder of the afternoon on horseback, my tailbone is killing me.”
Aunt Gertrude laughed politely and smiled benignly at Helen. “If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I have some matters to attend to.”
Then she left them in the drawing room. Theodore sucked in a breath as he took his seat on the chair beside her. “Is it just me, or is your usually contained aunt is a bundle of nerves?”
Helen snorted as she laughed. “The Duke graces our house with a visit for dinner? Any host would be nervous.”
He harrumphed, folding his hands over his chest. “I tend to have that effect on everyone. Even my grandmother is not exempted.”
“Now, you are just being pompous,” she replied. “I hope you come bearing good new, because my mind feels like it will be torn apart soon.”
For the first time, Theodore felt comfortable. Her meddling aunt was gone, doing something else and leaving them both in the drawing room. All alone. His mind let out a burst of emotions, and this time, he decided not to let anything hold him back. After all, Helen talked to him about her intentions in the garden. And he wanted to give her exactly what she craved.
He placed his hand over her own, tracing a line over the silk. “I am not pompous in the least.”
Helen felt her thoughts getting befuddled, the slight touch setting her on fire. She struggled beneath the crashing wave that spiraled in her gut, pushing it back as long as she could.
“Maybe. But then, I feel like I cannot hold up my end of the agreement anymore.”
Theodore stared into her baby blue eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”
“My aunt and father, as well as the entire ton is pressuring me into exchanging nuptial vows with you,” she answered.
He trailed his finger higher up, the heat of her body and the beautiful scent of lilies and soap was slowly intoxicating him. Still, Theodore managed to clear his mind.
“I think we should talk about other things,” he replied softly. “Have you opened the gift I brought you?”
Helen shook her head, stifling a gasp as his finger trailed over her bare skin. She turned to look at him as his eyes darkened. Chills ran down her spine, making her shudder. But she pulled back.
“Time has not permitted me to as I had to assume my duties in the house. Also, I as do not want to be seen as a recidivist, Your Grace, if we are caught—”
“Theodore. Always call me Theodore,” he whispered, breath warm and spilling on her skin.
His voice was deep yet silky, filtering through her mind. It was infinitely dangerous — whatever Theodore was doing to her. Helen did not want it to stop but neither did she want to be caught in such a compromising position by her aunt.
