Page 4 of Married to the Ruthless Duke

Alexander did his nightly ablutions and slipped into bed with plans for the next day already sealed in his mind. There was no way he was missing out on a deal with such valuable returns.

ChapterTwo

“Have a good day, girls.” Helen smiled, waving goodbye to her friends as she was helped out of the hackney they’d shared on their outing.

“You too, dear Helen.” Joana, one of her bosom friends, smiled.

“Will you be attending the Haversham Ball in the next couple of weeks?” Ariadne, her other bosom friend, asked.

“I am not certain yet,” Helen told them, and seeing the hackney driver’s impatient look, she waved to them. “I’ll write to you both once I decide.”

They blew her kisses as the carriage rolled away, and Helen smiled as the sun kissed her face. The day had been nothing short of perfect, and she could not wait to tell her sister, Margaret, all about it.

One of her favorite places to spend time in London was Gunter’s Tea Shop. She was sure that most debutantes and young women of marriageable age would argue that a visit to the modiste or the theatre was more riveting and engaging as well as proper if one wanted to secure a husband. But Helen believed there were very few things better than the refreshment she got from having ice at Gunter’s plus the even more rewarding benefit of hearing the latest gossip circulating among the ton.

And she could trust her friends to have in-depth knowledge of that sort. They were reliable in that way, residing always in their London homes as compared to her, who often returned to her family home in the country at the end of the Season.

The latest story was about the Duke of Blackhill, who was better known by the moniker the Ruthless Duke. Apparently, after years of studiously avoiding the institution of marriage, he had decided to get married. It was a general consensus among the ton that it was not going to be difficult because even with the multitude of scandals attached to his name, he was still a prime catch with a dukedom that went back several generations. He was second only to the royal family, and there was no young lady who wouldn’t kill to be associated with a dukedom, not to mention possessing the most coveted title of Duchess. Well, none but her, of course.

The marriage in itself wasn’t what had caused such a stir amongst the ton but his plan. Somehow, word had gotten around that he was apparently not going to choose his bride from among the debutantes but would be honoring an arranged marriage contracted many years before.

That was what had caused such a stir within the ton, as in one fell swoop, he had dashed the hopes of several debutantes and ladies who had always dreamt of acquiring the title of Duchess.

The ladies of the ton had declared their determination to hate the Duke’s betrothed simply for daring to land the Duke without so much as lifting a finger, which amused her greatly, as her friends—Joana, daughter of the Marquess of Kilburn, and Ariadne, daughter of the Viscount Yardley—were of the same opinion.

Helen well understood their plight even though she didn’t share their obsession with the Ruthless Duke. She understood the anger that came with disappointment from losing things longed for, even worse when it is granted to a seemingly undeserving person on a silver platter. She simply hoped whoever the unfortunate damsel was would be someone with a spine who could handle their censure.

“I still do not understand what you two see in him to make you act so… uncharacteristically weird.” She laughed after a sip of cool strawberry-flavored ice.

Joana rolled her eyes while Ariadne gasped.

“Have you seen his eyes? Or his jaw? Or his broad shoulders?” Ariadne asked with a whisper, because if she were to be overheard, she would never survive it.

“All normal parts of any man.”

“The Duke has no normal parts,” Joana gushed, still whispering. “He’s extraordinary.”

“Mhmm. His smoldering stare across the room makes me feel all hot inside.”

Helen frowned in wonder at her friends, wondering if she herself perhaps was starting to develop challenges with her eyes.

While Helen admitted that the Ruthless Duke was undeniably handsome—if you were partial to the dark brooding male type compared to the more popular blonde Adonis type—she could not ignore the fact he had such a dark aura about him that screamed danger.

Even without knowing his history, it was obvious to everyone who cared to look that he was a man with a dark past and not strictly of an amorous nature.

Although he was also known to be a ruthless rake, she figured he hadn’t even had to work hard to earn much affection. Apparently, his dark looks drove women insane and made them lose all sense of propriety. Young widows, matrons, and a few ruthless debutantes threw themselves shamelessly at him if he so much as nodded his head in greeting or smiled at them.

Not that he smiled often. He just curled his lips in a mocking smirk of amusement at the antics of members of the ton when he attended some of their flamboyant affairs. She could not even fault him for that because she had pretty much done the same when she was witness to it.

“Remember when my mother introduced us at the Spring ball in Cheshire court?” Ariadne gushed. “I thought I’d die when he kissed my hand.”

And that one encounter had firmly sealed the love she had for the Duke in her heart. She had felt so special that she had wept when he had kissed Joana’s hand just two balls later.”

“I know.” Joana sighed. “His lips were so soft, and his voice so deep.”

The two of them got into an argument that made Helen laugh, drawing attention to them.

“You two are absolutely too much,” she teased.

---