Page 15 of Married to the Ruthless Duke

“I do not think so at all.” Ariadne frowned. “I would still hate her, though.”

Helen tried not to look guiltily at her friends. If they knew it was her, she wondered what they would say.

She bid them goodbye not long after and arrived at least thirty minutes after noon.

When trying to annoy a fastidious duke, why not start with unapologetic tardiness?

She walked into the tea shop, making a point to look around for the Duke. She caught the eye of the shop owner—the shocked look on her face was priceless and comical. It was a miracle that Helen did not burst into laughter.

She finally caught the Duke’s eye. His eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows knitted in confusion. She almost pitied the man. It was probably difficult for him to reconcile the woman walking towards him and the one he met at her father’s townhouse. But by the time she got to the table, his expression had turned enigmatic

“Your Grace,” she said with an exaggerated curtsy. It was a wonder she didn’t fall down flat on her face.

“Good day, Miss Helen,” he answered distractedly. His eyes were locked on her hair. “That is an interesting thing you did with your hair,” he said with a sarcastic curl to his lips.

Interesting was definitely one way to describe her appearance because she knew she looked deliciously… atrocious. She had styled her hair into a multitude of curls that she hoped resembled something out of nightmares that, in combination with the puce-colored day dress she wore, she was sure anyone would call interestingly atrocious. And she thought she was having the desired effect because the store owner and other patrons of the shop kept looking at her with undisguised shock. The Duke, on the other hand, was handling it quite well—too well, in fact. She decided it was time to push the table a little bit.

She sat down and smiled innocently at him. “It’s a beautiful day we’re having, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Shall we order?”

She nodded and, already knowing what she intended to order, signaled to one of the staff, ordering the shop’s largest loaf of bread. Then she proceeded to consume it in large chunks while the Duke watched her with amused interest.

“You seem to love bread a lot,” he commented, buttering a perfect slice.

“I do actually,” she replied. “I hope you don’t mind my table manners. I have always been told that I never eat in a ladylike manner. It has always been a matter of concern to my father, but I never understood why I shouldn’t eat to my satisfaction simply to please Society.”

“Well, I agree. I had never liked ladies who eat barely enough to keep a bird alive. I believe a real woman should eat properly,” he replied.

She tried not to let her disappointment show but was secretly impressed that the Duke was proving to be more open-minded than she had thought, but then she was ready to explore another angle. Most men of her acquaintance rarely forgave a blow to their egos, so her next goal was to deliver a blow to his ego

“Your Grace, the note you sent me was signed A. O. I assume that the O is for Oswald, but what might the A be? Albertus, Albany?”

His lips just curled up in amusement.

“Americus? Asparagus?”

At that, he threw his head back and laughed heartily for several minutes. Helen was particularly startled by that picture. In all the years she had seen the Duke, she had never seen him laugh that heartily, and God did it do wonders for his face.

He was already lethally attractive, but something about his laughter tugged at her heartstrings. It was a deep baritone that sent vibrations through her body. She felt a deep sense of pride that she had been able to make him laugh but shook the thought out of her mind.

Gradually, his laughter subsided, and he wiped the corners of his eyes. A look around confirmed that she was not the only one who was surprised by the Duke’slaughter.

“Asparagus? Really? Who would name their child after a vegetable?” he said while wiping some tears at the edge of his eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have a perfectly boring Christian name. Alexander. You could address me as Alex. My friends do, and we are going to get married, so we should dispense with all these formalities, don’t you think?”

Helen was still too shocked to provide an answer. This whole situation was not going the way she had envisioned. She had started the maligning of his Christian name to annoy him, but instead, it amused him. But then she was nothing if not tenacious, and she was definitely going to get a rise out of him if it was the last thing she did. She had gone through a lot of trouble preparing for this charade to let it go to waste.

She signaled to the servers, and they brought the tea tray.

“Did I ever tell you that this was my favorite place in the whole of London, Your Grace?” she said, smiling cheerfully—maybe too cheerfully, since he was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“This tea shop?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, waving off the server that tried to pour the tea. “They have the best tea in the whole of London.”

She made a show of pouring the tea for him and knocked over the glass of water, whose contents spilled on his trousers.

“Oh dear!” she said with feigned concern, coming over to his side of the table, and using the paper towels to mop the water off his clothes. The Duke just looked at her suspiciously and assured her that he could take care of himself.

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