Dukes By the Dozen полностью

Helena could not stay without causing scandal—any more than she already had by rushing to his bedside the moment she’d heard he was ill. Thank heavens she had the reputation for being a busybody and pushing her remedies on all and sundry. No one believed her to be a scheming seductress—which was a bit insulting when she thought about it.

Ash politely saw her out to Millicent’s waiting carriage, and began to hand her up into it. Helena felt his strong fingers on hers, looked down into his gray eyes, and knew she did not want to leave.

She longed to stay in his house, have him return after riding his lands and tell her all about what he’d done that day. They’d sit by the fire while he sipped brandy and she did his mending.

Helena wanted this so much she put on a frozen smile. “Good day, Your Grace,” she said, the words stilted. “I will have your aunt call on me at Millicent’s to continue discussing your potential nuptials.”

Ash stiffened, his grip tightening. “I remember telling you to give up the idea.”

“Indeed, no. I made a promise to Lewis, and I never go back on my word.”

Ash’s eyes blazed with sudden fury—his vigor had certainly returned. He pushed Helena up into the carriage, and to her amazement climbed in with her, slamming the door and ordering the driver to start.

CHAPTER 6

ASH WAS QUITE elegant in his greatcoat, riding togs, and tall hat, Helena thought as she faced him across the small space of the carriage. He skimmed off the hat and slammed it to the seat beside him, his hair pleasantly mussed. No longer unshaven and flushed with fever, he looked most civilized, yet robust.

He was handsome either way, Helena reflected, even when he had a drippy nose.

The nose today was perfectly dry and no longer red, his eyes glittering over it.

“I will speak to Lewis,” Ash said. “You must drop this nonsense.”

Yes, he was feeling much better. “You are going to upset your children, are you?” Helena asked, more abruptly than she meant to. “Tell them they must adhere to your plans without any regard to their feelings? I’ve been acquainted with you for years, Ash. You used to be far more carefree—you laughed, you danced, you played with your children. Now you are out of temper if you don’t walk a rigidly straight line down the road or if Edwards is thirty seconds late with your coffee. I wager even your sickness fled according to your schedule.”

“For heaven’s sake, woman, I was ill. I had no control over it.”

“The heart of the matter, I believe,” Helena said, trying to look wise. “You are so very angry if you do not control every person and event around you. All must behave as you wish, when you wish them to.”

“You exaggerate,” Ash answered tightly.

“Do I? You were severely polite to your guests at the ball, tried to hide in the card room, and fled into the garden at your first chance. I imagine no one was dancing evenly enough for you. Or was it because you tripped over your feet during our dance? Embarrassed that the perfect duke was the slightest bit imperfect?”

“You know nothing at all.” Ash’s rumble filled the coach. “Damn and blast you, I know why you hurried to my home when you heard I was ill—so you could control me. I could scarcely fight you when I was flat on my back, too weak to move. You dosed me so we could race back to this absurd scheme of getting me married.”

“Good gracious, your bellowing might convince me to give up the matter. I feel sorry for your bride already.”

“Excellent, then we will hear no more about it.”

The carriage bumped out through the gate and turned down the lane to Millicent’s cottage.

“If it were up to me, I would drop the question,” Helena said. “But the idea is Lewis’s, with his sisters behind him. The choice is not mine to make.”

“That is rubbish—Lewis is a child.”

“He is your child. Have you thought it through, Ash? Why they want you to remarry? Given it deep and careful thought as you seem to do problems in the government? Or did you simply dismiss your son out of hand? Let us recall Lewis’s points, shall we? Several indicate that you lose your temper—throwing your shirts at Edwards, objecting when the children are too loud and not always punctual, and adhering to timetables too much. Lewis paints an excellent portrait of you.”

“Because he is young,” Ash growled. “He does not comprehend—” He broke off, his face reddening.

“Comprehend what?” Helena asked. “Please tell me. I truly wish to know.”

For a moment, Helena thought he wouldn’t answer. Then Ash began, his voice hard. “He does not understand that if I leave off being efficient and romp about laughing, as you believe I should, I would go mad. Why do you think I plan for every minute of every day? So there is no time to sink into melancholia and dark thoughts—I did it to keep myself alive and to continue. So I could take care of my daughters and son. For them.”

He snapped his mouth shut and dropped back to the seat.

“Ash.” Helena, stunned, gentled her voice. “I understand. Grief is painful, can consume you …”