Page 19 of The Duke of her Dreams

Helen waited until Aunt Gertrude was well out of sight before the tears fell. She sneezed and choked, dusting the chairs. The dust made her eyes bloodshot and itchy, turning her yellow dress into a dour brown. Still, she worked herself to the bone. There was no breakfast or lunch, no sponge cake or warm bread.

Helen’s thoughts were on dinner as she worked, scrubbing the floors inch by inch. She hummed softly, reminding herself that London was just within reach. A few more weeks and she would have stories to tell her father and Kate. Tales of how she scrubbed floors and cleaned out cobwebs, of how much she missed biscuits and lemonade.

Once finished with the task, Helen dragged herself up the stairs and into her room. She stared at the twilight sky that was bespangled with stars, wishing her father would call on her to return.

She sat by the small desk beside the window, allowing the frosty night air to find its way in. Helen brought out her leather-bound journal, an inkwell she took from her father’s study, and an old quill, and she started to write, narrating her ordeal.

Until she fell asleep with the Duke’s face on her mind.

* * *

Helen sighed, slicing the broom through the air. She plopped on the small damask sofa, her body heavy with exhaustion. Every part of her body ached so much that she was barely able to move.

The floors before her were wet but clean, and the chairs had not one speck of dust on them. She dusted the curtains and cleaned the windows, even cutting herself on the sharp edges of the glass. All Helen wanted was to sleep in a nice and comfortable bed, far away from the life she was now living.

“You have time to sit?” Aunt Gertrude’s nasal tone cut through the air, and Helen felt a shiver run through her.

She jumped, crashing to the ground and falling on the broom. Pain bloomed in Helen’s hand when she straightened herself. She was tired of working endlessly with little food. Every day, she was forced to clean, do the laundry, and every other menial chore that servants were employed for.

“No,” she mumbled, afraid of what might happen if she dared speak up. Helen shrunk at the sight of her aunt’s lurid silk in a purple so dark that it looked black in the shadows. Her greying hair was tightly packed into a chignon atop her head, and Helen noticed the dark glint in her eyes.

“What did you say?” her aunt asked, wrapping her arms across her bodice

“Nothing ma’am,” she replied immediately in the way her aunt liked to be addressed.

“Then why are you seated? Have you finished for the day?”

“I have swept the floors and dusted the curtains. Polishing the wooden cabinets took an ample amount of time, but they are spotless now.”

“Laundry?” Aunt Gertrude asked.

“I wanted to rest a little —”

“You wanted to rest?” Aunt Gertrude bellowed, her voice cold and filled with fury. “To start having those sinful thoughts again? I will not allow that!”

“But, I thought —”

Again, Helen was interrupted. She was not even given a chance to make her case. A part of her wanted to yell and screech, to gather her skirts and run away. But she had nowhere to go.

Her father had not replied to her letters, and it meant that his anger was not yet quenched. Escaping to Kate’s house would only ruin her friend's chances of finding a good suitor. And Helen did not want to cause Kate any trouble. There was no other choice but to endure her suffering.

“After the scandal you caused in London, you have time to rest? Do you not think about God?”

“I merely wanted to rest a little before I do the laundry, Aunt Gertrude. My arms ache already with all the work I have to endure every day.”

“Endure?” Aunt Gertrude repeated. She lashed out and dealt a slap across Helen’s face.

Her senses reeled as she fell back in the chair, mouth open in surprise. Helen was stunned as she stared at her aunt. Aunt Gertrude’s lips were twitching the way they usually did when she was angry.

Tears slipped from Helen’s eyes as pain flared up in her face. Her cheeks had turned a dark red from the assault, and she stared at the ground. She looked to see her fists clenched at her sides as the tears continued to fall.

“I am training your heart and body to abstain from sin! Do you not want to bring your father happiness?” her aunt snapped, but Helen was still shocked to the core.

She knew that her aunt was frightening, but never had she touched Helen in such a manner. Hurt flashed in her eyes as she picked up the broom, sniffling and crying.

“Do the laundry at once!” her aunt yelled, face twisted and dark. “We continue to lose precious light.”

Helen stood, transfixed. Anger clawed at her gut and it caused her to shiver. She tried everything to help quench the flames in her mind, but they only rose higher, burning her resolve to a crisp.

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