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“Come to me the moment you find out more,” he commanded. “Day or night.”

“Your Grace,” Mr. Varley agreed, bowing as he took the money, understanding that their conversation was now over.

As soon as he was gone, Morgan tucked the letter into his jacket and called for Claude.

“Your Grace?” his valet asked, entering the office.

“Cancel my last appointment for the evening,” Morgan commanded as he walked past his valet and into the hall. “Tell them some urgent family business has arisen.”

Helena smiled wanly in Luke’s direction. She was not at all sure what joke he had made, but she had noted the smiles on Ambrose’s and Barbara’s faces, the merriment of their polite laughs, and she joined in. In truth, if asked, she could not recall a single thing Luke or anyone had said that evening. Every conversation with him seems to be the same. Polite. Filled with compliments. And utterly dull.

Although he was a perfect gentleman, Helena’s mind could not focus on him. Not in the same way it focused on Morgan. It had been three days since she had gone to see him. Three days since he had bared his soul and held her as if she was his lifeline. And three days since he sent her away, leaving her feeling lonelier than she ever had in her entire life.

“Oh, Ayles, your wit is unmatched,” Ambrose chuckled, shaking his head. “Helena, do you agree that your husband-to-be is quite the storyteller?”

“Oh, quite so,” she agreed quickly, masking her boredom with another smile.

“Tell me, which part of the story did you enjoy the most?” Luke asked her earnestly.

Mentally, Helena flailed as she scrambled to find an answer, not recalling a single word the man had spoken through the entire dinner. She was fumbling with her words and twittering laughter when the doors to the dining room opened, and a servant appeared to announce the arrival of Lord Grandhill.

Relief and surprise combatted one another as Helena’s eyes focused on Morgan’s approaching figure. His eyes filled with the briefest touch of warmth as they met her gaze, but hardened into a predatory glare as he looked at Luke sitting beside her. Alarm scurried through her as she saw the absolute vitriol in Morgan’s eyes.

“Morgan,” Ambrose stated, his tone full of surprise as he rose from his seat, “What a pleasant surprise.”

Morgan glared at Luke another moment before his mouth twisted into a wicked smile, and he turned his gaze towards Ambrose. They had not spoken since his outburst in the park, and Helena was not at all sure what was about to happen.

“What brings you to us?” Helena asked, unable to help herself. She could not deny it. She was happy to see him, even if he looked as deadly as a wolf among lambs.

“I came to offer my apologies,” Morgan’s words came icily, his eyes still fixed on Ambrose. “For my vulgar behavior before a friend and a lady.”

Helena watched with growing interest as Morgan then bowed before Ambrose.

“Well, brother,” Ambrose said slowly, rising from his chair with a raised brow, “that is kind of you. And, of course, you are forgiven.

“We will speak more on the matter later,” Morgan stated with an air of authority as he straightened his posture.

“Indeed,” Ambrose agreed, then waved a hand towards the free seat opposite Helena. Join us. We have only just started.”

Helena’s heart leapt and began to hammer at the devilish twitch in Morgan’s smile as he examined the offered seat.

“Why, my dear friend,” Morgan stated dramatically, pulling forth his jester persona as he reached for the back of the chair with a flourish. “It would be an honor.”

Helena then watched in a transfixed state as Morgan transformed the boring dinner into one of boisterous laughter and interaction. The polite but tight smile Ambrose had worn for Luke grew into an open, wide-mouthed grin filled with laughter as Morgan injected life and warmth into the room.

Although he tried to disguise it, she also noted how Luke had stiffened in response to Morgan’s presence. On multiple occasions he had attempted to steer Morgan’s stories towards one his own, trying to reclaim the center of attention. On each occasion, Morgan would halt Luke’s words with a clever retort that was so polite it would cause everyone else to laugh and ignore the true sting of his subtle insults, save of course, Helena and Luke.

The delivery of his insults was more sophisticated than the manner in which he had hurled them that day in the park, but no matter how wittingly he coated his pointed words with politeness, Helena saw the toll they took each time they slashed at Luke’s pride. By the end of dessert, Luke was quick to excuse himself.

“Leaving so soon, old chap?” Morgan asked, his voice thick with sarcasm as Luke picked up Helena’s hand and kissed it.

“It seems my fiancée is being entertained enough this evening by her, what was it she called you in the park? Brother?”

For the first time since he had taken over the conversation, Morgan’s charming, confident smile faltered.

“Yes,brother,” Luke repeated, emphasizing the sibling relation with a hard tone as his lips drew into a smile that could have easily been mistaken as a snarl.

“Now would be the best time for this sibling-like reunion in any event,” Luke said, his tone dripping with false remorse as he rose from his chair. “After our wedding, Helena will be joining me in Ashfield and we shall be terribly busy there for quite some time. I am afraid you will not have dinners such as these with her much longer, Morgan.”