Page 76 of Duke of Seduction

Her stomach growled hungrily as she swallowed the first bite, and she quickly took another. Between mouthfuls she pointed her spoon at the duo and said, “start talking. Now.”

“Well, the fact that she is still bossy is a clear indicator that she will be fine,” Ambrose sighed, throwing her a bemused look.

“Morgan’s wound was not deep,” Barbara explained as Helena glared at her brother. “He has chosen to heal in his own home.”

“When did he leave?” Helena asked.

“Not long after I found you asleep on the love seat outside his room,” Ambrose replied.

Before she could ask if he was sure that Morgan was still all right, Ambrose added, “I have been by twice to visit him. The last time was only two hours ago. I assure you, Helena, he is well.”

Though this information brought Helena some minor comfort, she still despised the fact that he had left. Why had he done that after promising to talk? Her mind flashed back to their last night together, the pain of him ignoring her rising anew. Had he lied to her to get her to leave?

“Enough about Morgan,” Ambrose insisted when she said nothing else, “Please, tell us how you are truly feeling? Are you still dizzy? Does your stomach still pain you?”

The memory of the mysterious ailments that had befallen her for the last two weeks returned to her, and Helena took a moment to take a silent inner inventory of herself. She flicked her eyes around the room, flexed her fingers, felt along her stomach. Nothing. She felt no lingering effects from her earlier symptoms, and though she was worried for Morgan, she smiled in relief.

“I feel completely myself again,” she answered with certainty.

Ambrose and Barbara both gave her a look of great relief, and Barbara reached out and slapped Ambrose on the shoulder.

“See? The doctor was right. The rest helped. We did well in not waking her.”

“But I am awake now and ready to get out of this bed,” Helena insisted, pushing at the now-empty tray on her lap.

“Are you sure you want to get up?” Barbara asked. “After everything that has happened to you?”

Though she had appeared completely composed until then, Barbara’s eyes suddenly turned wide and misty and her face contorted into a heartbreaking sob as she sank onto the side of Helena’s bed and began to cry. Helena looked at her, startled, and pressed a comforting hand to her friend’s back.

Barbara was not the crying kind. She was tough and willful. Even during her pregnancy, when most women were prone to crying, she rarely did. And even after the feat was accomplished, Barbara would become frustrated with herself.

Worried by this rare show of emotion from her friend, Helena looked to Ambrose for an explanation. He only grimaced and gave her a pleading look. What was not being said?

“Barbara? Barbara, darling what is wrong?” Helena asked.

“My fault,” Barbara sobbed, wrapping her arms around Helena’s waist, “It is all my fault, this entire thing!”

Helena had no idea what Barbara meant and she did not find the moment humorous, but a laugh bubbled up from her lips. Ambrose looked at her with alarm as Helena shook her head and pulled Barbara fully into her arms.

“Listen to me, Barbara,” Helena said calmly, drying Barbara’s tears with her blanket, “this wasabsolutelynot of your doing.”

“He is myuncle,” Barbara spat out, her watery gaze going up to Helena’s eyes. “And Luke is my cousin. It was my family that did this. All of it. It was my family that killed your father.”

“You are not them, Barbara,” Ambrose stated in a level, patient voice as he reached out to touch his wife’s back. “You did not conspire with them. This is not your burden to carry, my love.”

“Ambrose is right,” Helena agreed soothingly. “We would never blame you for any of this, ever. You are my friend; my sister. You are not, have never been, and will never be my enemy.”

As she said the words, Helena felt the truth of them resound within her soul. Barbara had been her friend and a pillar of support long before she and Ambrose had fallen in love. Barbara had taken her in like she was her older sister. She had of course supported Helena’s more rebellious acts against Ambrose’s overprotective rein, but Barbara had also been there to stop her right when she was about to take things too far.

Barbara loved her deeply, and Helena knew that she would never intentionally cause her harm.

“God, I detest crying,” Barbara croaked, pulling away from Helena with a sniff. Then to herself she said angrily, “come on, pull yourself together, you loon.”

A light laugh broke from Helena and Ambrose as he pulled out his kerchief and handed it to his wife.

“Stop that,” Ambrose urged gently, pulling her to him. “I shall not have anyone talk to my wife that way. Including herself.”

Barbara let out a soft chuckle as she dabbed at her eyes. Then her chin began to wobble and she shook her head, as if fighting off another bout of tears.

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