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Morgan’s green eyes deadened, but he did not lose his smile.

“It is Your Grace to you, Ayles,” Morgan corrected. And we will see about that. No one keeps us from our family.”

Not breaking his challenging gaze from Luke, Morgan tilted his head towards Ambrose.

“Ambrose, is that not right, brother?” he asked.

“I am afraid it is,” Ambrose agreed, giving Luke a regretful shrug oblivious to the growing tension in the room. “When we want to see Helena, we will see Helena. Not even your marriage will keep us apart.”

“It is true,” Barbara agreed, reaching across the table for Helena’s hand. “We will always be there for our sister.

Helena felt a rush of overwhelming love as she accepted Barbara’s hand and looked at the three sets of eyes that stared adoringly back at her. She beamed at Ambrose and Barbara, returning their genuine sibling love, and felt her heart skip a beat when she focused on Morgan. There was no kin-like love in those eyes. Not anymore. It was pure, burning desire. Hot, and possessive.

“Of course,” Luke agreed, his gruff tone pulling Helena’s focus from Morgan.

Helena felt the pain shoot through her fingers as Luke’s grip hardened on her hand. She instinctively tried to pull away from his grasp, but Luke pulled her to her feet and captured her attention with a vaguely threatening glare. Helena felt another, stronger urge to pull away from him.

“I shall see you tomorrow,” he stated. His tone made it clear that it was not a request for an invitation, but a command. “Will you kindly walk me out?”

Helena felt a scurry of alarm pass through her as a note of cruelty resounded in his voice.

“I shall do the honors,” Ambrose stated, rising from his chair at the perfect time.

He walked over to Luke and clapped him on the shoulder. As he did so, Luke finally released Helena’s fingers. “You are not married yet, my friend.”

Helena pulled her aching fingers into the palm of her other hand as she watched a pleasant, polite smile settle over Luke’s face as Ambrose led him out.

“You are right, I am too excited for our wedding day. I got ahead of myself,” he agreed amicably as they left the dining hall.

“Your Grace,” a maid called, coming to Barbara’s side, “I beg your pardon, but the cook said to kindly remind you of tomorrow’s luncheon menu.”

“Oh, yes,” Barbara sighed, standing up from the table. “I almost forgot that we needed to secure that. Very well.”

“Excuse me, you two, I will return shortly,” she said to Helena and Morgan before disappearing after the maid.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Why do you not like him?” Helena asked Morgan as soon as Barbara had left.

Morgan smirked but it looked more like a snarl as he rose from his seat.

“I was perfectly polite,” he replied defensively, going to the window.

“And as pointed as a knife,” Helena retorted, following him. “You might not have been as blatant as you were in the park but you were cutting him open all the same. Now tell me, what is it that you have against him?”

The letter Varley had given him burned in his breast pocket. He realized then that he wanted to tell Helena was going on. After all, her father had also been killed by Whittler. But he could not divulge his information to her until he’d had a chance to talk to Ambrose and perhaps not even thereafter. It was not as though telling her about Whittler would address his possessive feelings towards Helena. That stark realization only served to darken his mood.

“I will just say that I now perfectly understand why you sought out someone like me before you must marry,” Morgan replied, forcing a playful tone into his voice. It was harder than he would have liked, and he regretted it the moment he saw Helena’s brows furrow with hurt.

“The man is boring, Helena,” Morgan sighed wearily.

To his relief, Helena’s pout disappeared and she rolled her eyes.

“You may be right,” she agreed begrudgingly. “But he is trying in vain not to be, and you are quelling his efforts at every turn.”

Good,Morgan thought vindictively, but he kept the remark to himself and studied Helena as she stood before him. She wore a gown in a particularly deep shade of pink, and looked as lovely as ever. Yet, as he took her in, flashes of her in the black-sequined gown consumed his mind.

Morgan looked towards the door to ensure that they were still alone, and then reached for the dangling diamond earring hanging from her left lobe. He caressed the sensitive flesh and reveled in the way Helena’s breath immediately quickened.