Chapter 9 #2
This time, as she spoke, a bit of her hurt slipped through her tone, and her words were followed by an awkward silence that made the already large room feel larger. Needing a second to compose herself, she turned her back to him and walked to the table where the sample arrangements were.
“Well, I suppose it does not matter if you hate me or not.” Helena softened a little as she took in the bouquets’ beautiful designs. “We just have to decide on these.”
The white stargazer lilies looked perfect amongst the pillowy, smaller petals of the dusky blue hydrangeas.
Deep purple tea roses, no doubt dyed to achieve their excellent color, were sprinkled into the mix to add a bit of depth.
They were positively lovely, and she was sure that Jeremy was going to approve when he came back, if he was actually going to come back.
Why does the prospect of his not showing up at the wedding bring me relief?
“I will make this task simple and save us some time,” she said softly, her gaze still on the arrangements along the table.
“I want this large one. No little bouquets, only large ones. Jeremy would love them to sit atop gold-painted columns. There. Decided. We are done with this dreadful affair. Good night, Your Grace.”
She moved to leave, her eyes on the doors and not on him.
She did not dare look at him. Somewhere between the flower shop and the inn, the way she felt about the man had stopped making sense, and she was afraid that if she met his gaze, he would read all of it on her face.
Anger was simpler. She held on to the anger and started for the door.
But she had taken only a single step when she felt his large hand wrap around her upper arm; she felt the heat of his body wrap around her as he turned her around, and she was shocked to find his piercing blue gaze imploring her to wait.
“I do not hate you,” he huskily whispered, their faces so close she could feel his warm breath fan her cheeks. “But I really wish I did.”
Though she did not understand why, Helena felt tears well in her eyes. What did it matter if this man despised her or not? They did not know each other. They were not family. He was not even Jeremy’s family, and there was no reason for them to need to get along after the wedding ordeal.
And yet…
The Duke’s brows pinched, as if he were in pain.
“I really wish I could hate you, despise you,” he rasped, his grip on her arm turning into a caress. “It would make this so much easier on me.”
His hand smoothed up her arm to her neck, sending little licks of fire through her bloodstream everywhere he touched.
She could not help but reach up to him in return, placing her palm over the ragged scars around his throat.
He tensed, but she let out a soothing shh sound as she gently caressed those raw, painful-looking edges.
Beneath them, she felt his pulse, kicking wildly against his hot flesh.
The man always seemed to be burning up, as if a fire raged inside of him.
“Why?” she breathed, searching his eyes for an explanation.
“Helena, do not do this,” he rasped, his voice raw and ragged.
She froze. He had never said her name before. She could not have said why one word should affect her so, but it did, and she felt the warmth climb into her cheeks before she could stop it.
“Then tell me why,” she urged. “Tell me what I have done that a man who does not even know me should wish so badly to hate me.”
Evander squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against hers.
“Nothing,” he seemed to force out. “Helena, I…”
The doors to the ballroom opened with a groan, and they flew apart in an instant. Helena swallowed, feeling that in their brief moment of closeness, the fire in the Duke’s veins had somehow transferred to hers.
She looked toward the open doors and saw several servants coming in, carrying chairs. They all stopped when they saw her and the Duke, and quickly offered their apologies for the delay, explaining that the Dowager had asked them to assist with other arrangements.
Panic and embarrassment hit her like a cold rain, extinguishing the fire the Duke had ignited within her. She had let herself be caught—alone with a man who was not her fiancé. If it became known that they had been unchaperoned, gossip could spiral out of control and possibly ruin the wedding.
A wedding she needed for the sake of her family. A wedding Jeremy needed to appease his grandmother was now in jeopardy because she had not spared a single thought about sending Alex away. It had been a punishment for his harsh words to the Duke, but would anyone believe her?
Helena forced a small smile that betrayed her fraying nerves.
“It truly is no trouble!” she insisted. “Do please come in; we were just leaving, as our chaperone only stepped out a moment ago! Were we not just leaving?”
When she received no answer, she turned back to where the Duke had been standing. He was gone; only his masculine scent lingered in the empty space. She glanced around, unable to believe how quickly he had disappeared.
“Have you decided on the arrangements, Miss?” a servant asked kindly.
Helena blinked, wondering if the servants had seen the Duke at all, or if they had thought she was talking to herself. Either way, it seemed no one wanted to speak on the possibilities.
“Yes,” she said, forcing her thoughts away from the Duke of Redgrave. “Yes, I have. Come with me, please. I shall show you.”