Page 62

Never again would she feel his touch, be comforted by his dominance, and nurtured by his gentleness. The reality swallowed her, and she felt her pain bloom anew as she struggled to remain present with Luke.

“Your mind no longer seems to reside in your body, my dear,” Luke said, speaking to her as if she was a disobedient child. “Tell me, what are these thoughts that so completely take hold of you?”

Though she did not like it, Helena reached for the tea and took a long swallow, welcoming the odd detachment it provided.

“I believe I am simply homesick,” she managed to say after downing nearly the entire cup. “This has been a most lovely visit, and I have learned much about my future duties, but I believe we should all go back to London this coming weekend.”

“You do not like your new soon-to-be home?” Luke asked almost immediately, a look of disappointment crossing his face.

No, I do not.

“I thought you and your friends could stay here until the wedding. That way there is no chance of failure at your tasks when you come back as my viscountess,” Luke explained.”

Helena did her best to smile and replied, “it is lovely, truly. But I am accustomed to being with my family, and in truth, I do not relish staying behind while you return to London for your business.”

“You have plenty to keep you busy while I am away,” Luke insisted, “Have you not enjoyed learning about your new house and its required responsibilities? Do you not want to be the best wife for me?”

“I am not your wife yet,” Helena said, her tone low as she gave Luke a level look. He looked look back at her with annoyance, and the two of them stared challengingly at one another until a servant entered the room.

“Pardon, my lord, but a missive has arrived for you,” the man said, bowing as he presented the letter to Luke.

Unable to help herself, Helena leaned towards the writing on the envelope, wanting to see who it was from. Perhaps it was from her brother demanding her presence, or even Barbara. She was able to read the lettersR.K.penned in eloquent script, but that was all she could see before Luke tore it open.

“Perhaps Lady Helena is right, Lord Ashfield,” James stated as Luke read through the missive. “We have been most gracious of your hosting, but I believe weallwould like to return to London.”

“What?” Luke grunted, his attention still on his letter.

An awkward silence settled over the table. Luke’s mood obviously darkened as he read the missive. When he had finished, he muttered something regarding ingratitude as he tucked the letter into his breast pocket.

“You are right,” Luke said to James politely. “We should all return to London. We will leave in the morn.”

“An excellent choice, sir,” James replied as Helena felt relief flooding though her.

“Perhaps you and your sister should go and get started on your packing,” Luke replied. “I need to speak to my future wife for a moment, if you do not mind.”

“Just a moment,” he repeated when neither James nor Teresa moved.

They both looked over at Helena, and only moved from their seats when she gave them a nod. When they left, Luke’s small smile dropped and he leaned toward her with an inspecting glare.

“You are averyconfusing woman, you know that?” he told her, cocking his head.

Helena’s cheeks burned not with shame, but with anger.

“How so, my lord?” she asked sweetly

“When I offered this visit to you, you seemed so willing to get out of London,” Luke replied, his lips twitching to show his back teeth. “I actually thought it was because you wanted to be with me. But that is not true, is it? You have been as quiet and lifeless as a ghost since you got here. Is this what I have to look forward to in our marriage?”

Helena’s nostrils flared as she thought of all of the visceral responses she truly wanted to deliver. She was disliking Luke more and more every day and she wanted nothing more than to tell him how she truly felt.

“Perhaps it is,” she replied icily.

“Perhaps,” Luke murmured. “Or perhaps I shall have to fix some things about you to have you become more pleasant.”

A chill of disgust skittered through Helena’s spine and she narrowed her eyes. There was something wrong about his tone, about the way he spoke about her, and looked at her as if she were an object to be handled.

“Go to your friends,” he grunted in dismissal as he looked away from her. “We do not want them to worry about your honor.”

He then chortled as if he knew something, and under his breath muttered, “not that there is any to worry about.”