Page 74 of Duke of Seduction

“You are—were a rake and a comic, and I knew that you would charm your way into any woman’s bed you saw fit. You have made inappropriate references to Helena in the past, but I never believed that you would actually try to charm your way into hers.”

“I did not charm Helena into anything. You do not understand what happened between us,” Morgan spat out.

“Nor do I want to,” Ambrose replied quickly, putting a hand up to stop Morgan from elaborating. “What I want is to rewind time and find a way to bypass all of this, but I cannot. What I can have, though, is my friend back. My true, sarcastic, overly confident friend who reminds us to laugh when life gets too serious.”

“I cannot be that for you anymore,” Morgan urged. “Not without Helena. I did not mean to fall in love with her, Ambrose, and I am certain that she did not mean to fall in love with me, but there is something in the two of us as individuals that completes us as a whole, and I will not let her go.”

“I used to joke because I thought I was happy,” he went on, shaking his head, “the women, the power, it all made me drunk on life for a time. Then, shortly after we locked up George, I woke up one morning with the worst hangover and no longer saw life as funny. For a while thereafter, I pretended that all was well and fine. Until Helena. Once she caused me to realize what I was missing, I could no longer pretend to be happy. Not without her.”

The silence stretched out between them as they each absorbed what the other had said. Morgan lay prone and helpless on the bed, while Ambrose stood a few paces away from him, his hands resting on his hips as he stared down at the embroidered carpet.

“So you are saying I cannot have my best friend and brother back to his cheerful self unless he marries my sister.” Ambrose finally said decidedly.

“Yes.”

And there it was. His truth. His confession. His plea. His bargain. All wrapped up into one word.

Ambrose finally looked up from the floor, his annoyance still evident.

“I believe she feels the same way about you,” he grunted, as though displeased.

Morgan did not realize he was holding his breath until he heard the heavy sigh escape his own lips. An invisible weight seemed to lift off of him as Ambrose’s words resonated in his own head. Could she? After he had failed her?

“I will not be forcing Helena into another marriage,” Ambrose went on, “The choice is completely hers. If she says no…”

“If she says no, neither of you will have to worry about me anymore,” Morgan stated, his tone now calm. You and I will find our way back to friendship in some sort of fashion, I suppose, though you will not see me as often as before. And Helena will never have to worry about interacting with me again.”

Ambrose did not look pleased with Morgan’s response, but he gave a nod and stepped closer to Morgan’s bed. The two men looked at one another warily, knowing that their friendship, for multiple reasons, had been forever altered.

“I shall go fetch Helena,” he said, reaching out to lay a familiar, brotherly pat on Morgan’s shoulder.

“Thank you, brother,” Morgan replied, giving him a respectful nod. Ambrose’s lips twitched at the word, but instead of responding, he walked to the door and opened it to leave.

He had not taken a full step before Morgan heard him chuckle softly and stop. Though his pain was still sharp, Morgan was on his feet and shuffling to the door, somehow knowing what he would find.

“What are you doing?” Ambrose hissed quietly, swiveling his head towards Morgan as he heard him get up.

“I am fine,” Morgan grunted. “I want to see.”

“God, youmustbe in love with her,” Ambrose muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

For a brief instant, their usual bond snapped into place and Morgan grinned at Ambrose. His brother then smirked back and helped him complete his remaining steps to the door. Upon reaching it, Morgan leaned into the frame as he peeked out, and felt his heart swell at the sight of Helena curled up on the love seat, deeply asleep.

“She has had a terribly exhausting day,” Ambrose whispered as they both looked down at her. “And I believe the medicine the doctor gave her has only added to her fatigue.”

Morgan nodded, feeling his entire body respond to the sight before him. He wanted to lean down before her, pick her up, and carry her home to his bed where they would both rest for days. Helena did indeed look exhausted, but it did nothing to take away from the radiant beauty that shone from her. Nothing, not even poison, could take that from her.

“She and I will talk later,” he decided, his tone barely above a whisper. “Take her to bed. Make sure she gets her rest.”

“Let me help you back to yours first,” Ambrose insisted, but Morgan put up his hand.

“I will be fine,” Morgan replied, giving Ambrose a small push towards Helena. “Go. See to your sister. She deserves to rest in her own bed.”

At this Ambrose nodded and moved towards Helena to scoop her up. Morgan watched closely, making sure her head was in no fear of being bumped as Ambrose pulled her into his arms.

“Goodness,” he chuckled softly, looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms. “I have not done this since she was about eight.”

Morgan watched as emotions of all sorts travelled over his friend’s face. Relief. Worry. Fear. Guilt. Love. They all passed from Ambrose’s heart to his eyes.

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