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“It truly has been, brother,” she agreed cordially, then turned back to the man Ambrose had chosen for her.

Luke Ayles, Viscount of Ashfield, smiled charmingly back at her. He was, to her brother’s credit, a classically handsome man with a flattering jaw line, short, sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. His teeth were white and straight, and judging by the way his jacket fit, he took exceptionally diligent care of his health.

He had an air of aristocratic authority about him; strong but distant. Even from their brief meeting, it was clear that he was no pushover when it came to women, which was what Ambrose wanted for her.

He was also pretty and polite, and as she did not have any further say in the matter, that was all Helena cared about. Sign the dowry, buy the dress. What did it matter? Her wedding was not going to matter to her anyway.

“Thank you for letting me ramble on about my love of books,” Helena said cordially, “It is nice to know that my future husband will not have an issue with my reading habits.”

“Oh, certainly not,” Luke replied jovially. “I am much like your brother in thinking that women should be welcome to explore the world of literature. You never know what one might learn.”

From her seat, Barbara suddenly chortled, then coughed when Ambrose shot a glare at her.

“How sweet of you,” Barbara praised.

Luke gave her a smiling nod, as if pleased with himself, then turned back to Helena.

“Though I will be choosing your genres from now on,” he went on, his smiling twisting into a slightly condescending smirk. “I have heard there has been an increase in the sales of books of a more salacious nature. No wife of mine will be permitted to read such filth.”

Barbrara’s smile dropped a little as Luke reached for Helena’s hand and gave her patronizing smile.

“Not that a woman like you would ever be drawn to such words, Lady Helena. I know you are far too ladylike for such nonsense.”

Helena felt a rebellious urge to smile sweetly and tell him that he had no idea what type of woman she actually was, but before she could even begin to form the words, Ambrose said, “of course she isn’t,” in a slightly defensive tone.

Helena then glanced at Barbara, who refused to meet her gaze. Anger suddenly flamed through her as she once again felt how trapped she was. There was no choice left for her.

“Very well, my lord,” she finally responded, forcing her voice to be sweet and teasing, “but if you are to choose my books, then I insist that I choose the colors of your walls.”

She forced a false glimmer into her eyes as she looked at him with a teasing smile, and was rewarded with a loud, haughty laugh that was common among men of the ton.

“Well, is that so?” he taunted back, looking pleased with the joke. “Very well then. In what color should our home be shrouded?”

“Pink, of course,” she replied.

This time Ambrose joined Luke in his laughter, both of their tones patronizing. They found her answer adorable. Harmless.

“Of course,” Luke replied earnestly, giving her another charming smile. “I should have known.”

Helena forced herself to go along with him. Ambrose and Barbara looked relieved that the conversation had taken a lighter turn. She was not comfortable with Luke’s presence, she realized then, but she accepted that Ambrose could have chosen worse.

The four of them chatted gaily for another half an hour before Ambrose drew the conversation to an end, and walked Luke out after a brief discussion about their next meeting which would involve planning the official announcement.

“Well that went well, did it not?” Barbara asked gaily. “In fact I found it all very lovely. Save for the reading bit.”

“Perfectly so,” Helena agreed, her smile distant. “It seems Ambrose was correct after all. I should never have fought him on taking over the decision.”

“What was that?” Ambrose asked, walking back into the room.

He gave Barbara a curious look before turning to Helena with an arched brow. Her distant smile stayed fixed to her face as she shrugged once more.

“I can admit when I am wrong, brother. To be honest, it is a relief that the search is finally behind us.”

Ambrose’s triumphant smile slowly faded as he cocked his head to the side and studied his sister.

“Are you well, sister?” he asked cautiously.

“Perfectly so,” she assured him. “But if we are finished here, I must be on my way. I promised Teresa I would stroll with her if there was sun left once we were done. There appears to be an hour of daylight remaining, and I would like the air.”