Page 47 of The Duke of her Dreams

They laughed and talked about old times. When Sebastian and Theodore used to go hiking in the woods and stain the Persian rugs and expensive brocade carpets with mud when they returned.

“Have you heard from your brother?” his grandmother asked, her tone suddenly wistful.

“Has he talked to you, Grandmother? Because he has stopped returning my correspondence for months on end now.”

His grandmother was suddenly alarmed. “What? You have not talked for months? Last I heard, he was away from London. His job takes him everywhere.”

Theodore merely smiled. “Maybe Sebastian is just taking his time to think over what happened between us. Also, I heard that a physician almost never has the time to visit balls and soirees.”

She closed her warm hand over his, sparing him a pensive glance. “What happened to Isadora is not your fault, Theodore. I wish you could stop blaming yourself.”

“Whatever that animal did to her, I could have protected her! But I didn't. And that is all my fault. It is why I understand Sebastian’s fury.”

“We have talked - “

Charles, the butler at Clyvedon, strode in, bowing as he stopped in front of them. “Lady Helen and her aunt are here.”

Theodore shot to his feet, excited to see Helen’s beautiful face once again. It had only been the day before when they had a wonderful moment in the garden, but Theodore was craving more. And he promised her that they would continue from where they stopped. He knew that Helen could not forget something of that nature.

“You seem happy, Theodore. Much more than usual,” his grandmother commented softly. “If you are this excited when she arrives, then you should make haste for the nuptials.”

His eyes darkened. “Nuptials? I do not think I am quite ready for that.”

Truthfully, Theodore had thought of waking up to Helen every day. It would be a beautiful sight: her body tangled in the sheets, blond hair splayed around her on the silk pillow, eyes closed in a fitful sleep. But he knew that his thoughts would not come to pass, for Helen had her own intentions.

He sighed, trying to dispel the sour thoughts by pushing them away. “Send them in, Charles.”

The butler sauntered off while his grandmother attempted to pressure him like always. During that time, his mind wandered to the only family that he had left apart from his grandmother.

Sebastian.

To think that they used to be inseparable. There was now a wedge between them that could not be fixed. As the months passed by, Theodore kept sending letters in the hopes that his estranged brother might finally forgive him. He sought redemption for years, but found nothing but his brother’s cold shoulder. In the end, he chose to never lean on anybody again.

“Good morning, Your Graces,” Helen curtseyed, her soft contralto already spinning webs of desire in Theodore’s mind.

He cut off every other thought, focusing on the figure before him. The sun spilled on her milky white skin and turned her blonde hair to spun gold. Her eyes were lucent pools, innocent as they stared into his. In the brown sweeping gown and elaborate hairdo, she looked more like a goddess than human.

“Lady Helen, Miss Ferguson,” Theodore bowed, staring at the white skin of Helen’s breasts from under his eyelashes.

“We are most honored to be your guests,” Aunt Gertrude said, hovering around Helen like a bad cloud.

She had done everything in her power to dissuade her father from sending her aunt as a chaperone, but like with every other thing, his mind was set. Since they started seeing each other frequently, Aunt Gertrude had been interrupting their peaceful discussion because she deemed the distance between them too short.

Helen looked at Theodore and smiled a little to reel him in. She had chosen the gown with the lowest neckline to her aunt’s chagrin because she wanted to surprise Theodore. Also, she had Sonya, her lady’s maid, arrange her hair carefully to one side, so the smooth skin of her neck showed on the other. Her rouge was alluring that morning, and her lips shone from the rose petal balm that Kate gave her.

“Your Grace,” Aunt Gertrude said to the Dowager, “I hope you are more than ready for the sermon I have planned.”

Theodore averted his eyes from his grandmother’s surreptitious glances and gestures. It was why he wanted her to be his chaperone. Knowing that his grandmother would do anything for him, he decided to use that to his advantage.

In the Dowager’s reticule was a small tincture of laudanum that would knock out Helen’s troublesome aunt in no time. That way, Theodore hoped that he might have some alone time with Helen.

“May I have a word?” Theodore said, gesturing to his grandmother.

Helen cast him a suspicious look, but he returned it with a creepy smile.

When they were out of earshot, she spoke. “Why should I have to be your chaperone, Theodore? You can do this all on your own.”

“That would be bad,” he replied lazily, “but I noticed your silent cries for mercy. Is there anything wrong, Grandmother?”

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