Page 56

The coming months in Cornwall were the happiest of Helena’s life, filled with the promise of enduring contentment. What had once been a quiet, sterile manor, its vastness almost oppressive, now thrummed with life after her arrival.

Word quickly spread that the new Duchess of Carrivick had taken up residence at Penhollow, prompting neighboring families to make convenient visits under the guise of vague business with Lowen, only to linger over tea and conversation with Helena.

The estate’s many rooms, once dormant, now hosted guests frequently, as Helena invited her newfound London friends to stay, including the Dowager Countess of Auden, who quickly became a favored companion.

Of course, an empty pocket in Helena’s heart still longed for Charlotte and Elias.

Yet, with Charlotte’s cold snubbing and Elias’s self-imposed exile, any attempt to mend their fractured friendships felt like a futile endeavor.

Still, Helena clung to the hope that time—the great healer—would do its work and, one day, they might extend their hands to her once more.

Even so, she supposed there was little to be done if Charlotte and Elias chose to remain distant. The sting of her ruined friendships had dulled over time, replaced by the warmth of what she had gained—Lowen and their unborn child, who was growing more each day.

Now late October, Helena found herself struggling to see her feet, a fact that amused Lowen to no end.

He delighted in helping her slip on her shoes, though she was certain it was just an excuse to touch her.

She didn’t mind, distracting as it was. The moment one of Lowen’s gentle hands brushed her belly, Helena was already guiding it higher, toward her breast—a desire that hadn’t diminished as her condition progressed.

Her sexual appetite remained steadfast, though it paled in comparison to the cravings she had for food.

Thankfully, unlike her husband, the larder didn’t tire of her constant demands.

Parting with Lowen would be difficult for Helena, even if it was at her urging. He was set to depart for London, as Parliamentary duties now demanded his presence more than ever, with tensions escalating across the Continent.

Lowen was reluctant to leave, arguing that his attendance in Parliament mattered little. His party was greatly outnumbered, and the country seemed destined to plunge into war, no matter his protests.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet of their bed. Helena’s head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath. “Because when I wake up, I’ll have to leave.”

Helena’s eyes were already heavy, lulled by the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath her cheek. “You’ll be back before the baby comes,” she replied softly. “I promise you won’t miss much—just me getting bigger and more uncomfortable.”

“But I want to witness that,” he said, giving her a light squeeze. “I want to experience it all with you.”

“At the rate we go about it, I’m sure you will sooner or later,” she said with a wry smile.

Lowen chuckled, “Only if you desire another child. I’d prefer not to keep you uncomfortable…though I don’t mind your roundness.”

“You say that only because it isn’t just my belly getting bigger.”

In response, his hand slid down to her round bottom, giving it a teasing pinch.

“How will I sleep without you?” he asked softly. “I cannot go back to an empty bed.”

Alarmed, Helena lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You’ll have to make do. I won’t tolerate mistresses or lovers in my absence.”

Lowen blinked in confusion. “I would never dishonor you in such a way,” he assured her firmly. “That wasn’t my meaning. Rather, I fear I’ll spend many restless nights yearning for you.”

“Oh.” She laid her head back down. “Good.”

“And here I thought you’d feel sorry for me and insist I not leave you,” he chuckled again.

“Obviously I would prefer you not go,” she admitted. “But you’ve been attending for years. To disrupt that part of your life on my behalf feels…wrong. There are members who count on you and your guidance.”

“I’m beginning to feel it matters less and less as of late.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. I’d rather not have you regret not attending in the event something were to happen.”

Lowen sighed deeply, the motion raising her head slightly. “We shall see. But if you write and demand my return, I will leave immediately.”

She smiled, her lips brushing his skin. “I know.”

When Helena woke, Lowen was gone, and her room was cloaked in a faint purple hue as the sun had yet to crest the horizon. She sat up slowly, her hand brushing over the empty space where he had lain. The sheets were still faintly warm—he must have just left.

She frowned, letting out a quiet huff as she slouched against the bed frame.

Now, alone, the room felt cavernous, and she was devoid of any interest in starting her day.

This was different from the days spent in Lancashire without him.

There, she had purpose, driven by the reality that she might live the rest of her life without him—or by the faint hope that he would eventually come to his senses and fetch her.

As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, Helena’s gaze caught on a slip of white parchment folded neatly on her nightstand. It was from Lowen.

My dearest Helena,

I couldn’t bear to wake you this morning—you looked so peaceful, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to leave if you’d opened your eyes. Know that every step I take away from you only makes me eager to return. Take care of yourself, for you carry my heart with you.

I love you.

Yours always,

Lowen

Helena’s breath caught in her throat.

I love you.

She blinked and rubbed at her eyes. Had she read that correctly?

I love you.

Yes, yes! Her chest tightened as a swell of joy washed over her, warm and all-consuming. She delicately traced the three words with her fingertip, and smiled.

Though her heart soared, a small prickle of yearning remained. She longed to hear those words spoken aloud, to see them form on Lowen’s lips.

Nonetheless, she carefully folded the paper, her fingers lingering on its edges, and tucked it away in the drawer of her nightstand. She knew she would return to it each morning before she rose and each night before she slept, a ritual until Lowen returned.

“I love you too,” Helena whispered into the empty room.

It was evident to Lowen that he was a complete fool the moment he stepped out the door of Helena’s room.

His foolishness continued as he readied his horse, mounted it, and continued down the road for over a mile.

With every beat of his horse’s hooves, his chest tightened as if pins were being inserted, signifying each step away from Helena.

The distance between them grew unbearable. The road felt endless, each mile an agonizing stretch of time he would never get back.

Lowen suddenly pulled the reins hard, halting the horse with a sharp jerk. His breath was heavy, his heart thudding in his chest as the realization hit him like a slap.

What was he doing?

He was a damn fool. She needed him. He needed her.

A simple note with the confession of his love wouldn’t suffice either. Lowen needed to return to her and tell her properly that he loved her. Instead, he was miles away, riding toward a future that felt increasingly irrelevant.

With a fury that matched the hammering of his heart, Lowen spun the horse around. No more doubts, no more hesitation. He’d go back, ride straight to her, and tell her he loved her and that they would never part again. Anywhere she went, he would go, and anywhere she wasn’t, he was not there either.

Spurring the horse forward again, he pushed through the thoughts that threatened to hold him back. The world could wait. He couldn’t. Not when Helena was waiting for him.

Lowen raced down the path as if the devil were nipping at his heels. His only thought was Helena. Helena. Each syllable of her name matching the rhythmic pounding of hooves.

As the estate came into view, he practically leapt from his horse and nearly battered down the entrance doors. He ran up the stairs to her room in a frantic rush and burst through her door.

“Goodness! Has something happened?” Helena gave a start as she jumped to her feet.

She was still in her nightgown, her long, thick hair in a heavy, mussed plait.

“Yes, something has happened!” Lowen exclaimed, exhaling as he caught his breath from his sprint up the stairs. “I’ve come to my senses.”

The corner of Helena’s plush mouth twitched. “Just now?”

Lowen closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. “Yes, and I imagine I’ll realize it a hundred more times before our lives are over, for I cannot think when we’re apart.”

“Well, I suppose we must come up with a solution for that then,” Helena said, a deeper pink spreading across her cheeks. “I can’t have you running senselessly amok, nearly breaking down doors and out of breath all of the time. Can I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I suppose we must never be parted again.”

“Never again. I mean it, Helena. I have no purpose without you. Everything… everything is you. I think of you constantly. I dream of you constantly. Everything…I want everything for you. Every beam of sunlight, every blessing, every flower in a garden. Everything good on this earth, I want it for you.” His throat thickened as the words formed. “I love you, Helena.”

For a moment, she said nothing, staring at him blankly. Then, she blinked—once, twice. Moisture gathered in her eyes as her face softened, the strength in it giving way. “I love you too,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

The words, so short in length yet so heavy in impact, ignited him.

Every part of him burned with love for Helena.

It burned bright in his chest, piercing through the pain of his past and shedding light on the dark corners that had once haunted him.

The empty space he had carried without his brother was now filled, illuminated by the warmth of Helena’s love.

“I never want to leave you again,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses nearly touching.

“I never want you to leave again,” she replied softly.

“You are everything to me, Helena.”

The dawn broke over Penhollow, casting soft golden light into the room, and Lowen pulled Helena into a warm embrace. Their hearts were beating as one as they stood together, watching as the sun rose.

Together, always.