Page 60 of Married to the Ruthless Duke

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The drive back to the castle was gloomy, to say the least. They sat side by side, but they might as well have been a million miles away from each other, with the way they were both lost in their thoughts. Helen managed to hold herself together till she got home and went up to her chambers. Once inside her chamber, she cried herself to sleep, her soaked pillow the only testament to her pain.

She felt extremely foolish, ruining the bubble of happiness they were in by bringing up their contract, but seeing as he hadn’t even attempted to dissuade her, she knew it was best she saved what little pride she had left.

She fell asleep to thoughts of what could have been between them if only she’d kept silent.

The next morning, Alexander stood at his window, looking over the entrance of the castle and the carriage that was stationed there.

In a few minutes, Helen emerged in a smart traveling dress, footmen trailing behind her, loading her luggage onto the vehicle.

Anger had blinded him when she’d brought up their contract, when for that brief moment, he’d forgotten that they weren’t an actual couple.

He was going to suggest they continue their ruse, but if she wanted to leave, he was more than willing to let her go. When all was packed, she turned and looked straight up at him, or rather the window, since he knew she couldn’t see him. It was too high up.

The ache that had been residing in his chest since the previous night worsened, and so did his mood. With that one look, Helen extended her hand to the footman and disappeared into the coach. The carriage started moving, carrying her away from him. He watched the carriage until he couldn’t see it anymore, and with each mile it covered, the ache turned into actual pain, and he sank into his seat in his study, reaching for his whisky bottle.

He had done the right thing, he tried to tell himself even though his subconscious was beating him for letting her go.

She deserved to have an uncomplicated life, and she would have a good life away from his manipulative family and the trouble they cloaked themselves with as a shroud.

Yes, he had done well, he told himself while he downed the glass of whiskey, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

ChapterFourteen

Margaret watched Helen from her place at the doorway, her heart clenching in pity. The poor girl was a shadow of herself, and it was a testament to how deeply she had been hurt that Helen, who had always loved the outdoors and was so full of life, spent her days sitting by the windowsill, staring off into the distance. Margaret was willing to bet that those eyes saw nothing. She recognized that gaze, and she should know as she herself had spent months with that look in her eyes. Helen was overthinking and always lost in thought, and it hurt Margaret’s heart to see her sister this way.

That day, a week ago, when she had looked out the window and saw the carriage bearing the crest of the Duke of Blackhill, Margaret had been elated, thinking that the ducal couple must have concluded their honeymoon early and had come for a visit. She had really missed her sister more than she thought possible, her marriage being the first time they had lived apart as siblings. Margaret was elated to have the opportunity to see her sister again. She rushed down the staircase in a decidedly unladylike manner, but in her excitement, she didn’t particularly care.

By the time the carriage stopped in front of their manor, Margaret was already waiting in front of the house. The moment the carriage doors opened and her sister was handed down by the footman, she knew something was wrong, and her excited smile dimmed a little.

Helen looked drawn, her face and manner completely lacking the usual glow seen in newlyweds. The fact that there was no sign of the Duke further drove in that something was horribly wrong.

When Helen strolled towards her, Margaret opened her mouth to ask her what happened but promptly closed it when Helen collapsed in her arms, weeping loudly. That was a very rare occurrence in recent years.

Margaret had always known her sister to be the strong one. Yes, Helen was the younger daughter, but she possessed emotional intelligence beyond her years. She was the only one who stood by Margaret’s side when she broke into pieces in the previous year. But it appeared that husband of hers had succeeded in achieving the impossible by breaking her strong sister into pieces.

She had warned him, Margaret thought angrily.

She was going to confront him eventually after she helped Helen mend. In the meantime, she held Helen close until her heart-rending cries subsided to sobs and hiccups, after which Margaret guided her to her old bedroom and tucked her in. Helen promptly fell asleep.

Margaret understood her exhaustion. She should know what an emotional wound felt like. She had just recently healed, so she understood that Helen would require peace and quiet and a hearty dose of familial love in order to recover.

Helen slept through the night, but in subsequent days, she had kept to her room, refusing to come below stairs to join them for their meals. Margaret made sure that a tray was always sent up to her, and she sat beside her throughout to make sure Helen ate because she always claimed that she didn’t have an appetite.

But Margaret vowed that she was never going to let her only sister starve to death simply because of the fickle whims of a man. Helen had kept quiet about the reasons why she had returned, but Margaret knew there was nothing on Earth that was capable of making Helen this way apart from the Duke she had married.

As Margaret watched her, she decided that it was time now to push a little in order to gain better returns. She had been handling Helen with kid gloves because she wanted to avoid pushing too hard too soon, but it was now time for the tough kind of love. She walked into the room, and the fact that Helen didn’t turn to acknowledge her presence showed Margaret that her sister’s mind was very far away.

Helen was obviously lost in thought, probably thoughts that had something to do with her returning home.

“Helen,” Margaret called, tapping her shoulder lightly. “How are you doing?” she asked when Helen turned to look at her with tired eyes.

“I am quite well, Margaret,” Helen answered, forcing a smile. “Are you done having breakfast?”

“I think I should be asking you that, since you left your food untouched,” Margaret observed, gesturing to the table, where a tray containing a covered meal sat untouched.

“I am not hungry. Don’t worry about me. I am fine,” Helen said, smiling tightly.

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