Chapter 5
It was incredible how quickly things could change. Just two weeks ago, Helena had been all but certain that the next big event in her life would be the release of her very first novel.
She had lain awake at night dreaming of it, envisioning her own words printed in a book, convincing her father to read it, quizzing him, and feeling a sense of adulation as he was sure to praise the work, unaware that she was its author.
In hindsight, it had been such a small and insignificant dream to hold onto.
Even if it had come to pass, nothing in her life would have changed.
She would still be Lady Helena Monstrose, she would still be the troublesome daughter, and she would still be wondering where her future might lead and what was in store for her.
Now I know exactly where my future will lead, just as I know what is in store for me. Changes so monumental and earth-shattering that nothing will be the same ever again. And it terrifies me.
It had only been two weeks, and so much had changed already. And as Helena started to walk down the aisle toward her future husband, she knew that these changes were just the beginning.
“I am so proud of you,” her father whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “You have no idea, Helena. So proud.”
“Thank you, Father,” she said kindly, determined to commit to the ruse because there was no point in revealing the truth.
“He is a good man, the Duke,” her father continued. “A good man. And I know you will make him happy.”
“I am sure I will.”
“As he will make you happy,” her father added.
She glanced sideways, noted the twinkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips. Rarely had she seen him so smitten.
Helena thought to agree a final time that the Duke would indeed make her happy. But she had lied to her father enough these past two weeks and could not do so again.
They walked down the aisle of the church together.
On either side were the pews, packed with family and friends come to see this most important of days.
As far as they were concerned, this was a love match, a reason to celebrate, and there was more than one wet pair of eyes and blubbering mouths in concert.
Helena ignored it all as best as she could.
Yes, there was that part of her that felt guilty at having to lie.
But mostly, she was still angry. Angry that she was being forced into this.
Angry that it was her fault. Angry that she had no agency, that this marriage was on the Duke’s terms, and that she had to go through with it lest she make things worse.
Each step forward felt like one away from the life she had known. The dreams she had. That which she knew about herself. Each step forward and the trap tightened that little bit further.
“I am here for you, Helena,” her father whispered. “You know that.”
“I do, Father.”
“And I just want to say…” He sniffed back tears. “I know I have given you a hard time these past years. But I did it out of love and… and a need to see you taken care of.”
“Father, there is no need—”
“The Duke will take care of you now,” he spoke over her. Their arms were linked, and he made sure to hold her tight as they walked. “And for that, I could not be happier.”
She grimaced, unable to answer for so many reasons.
The Duke of Hawthorne stood at the end of the aisle, watching Helena and her father slowly walk toward him. It was the first time that Helena was seeing him properly since the night of their announcement, and she was not at all surprised to see that he looked exactly as she remembered.
But is that a good thing? I’m not so sure.
It was impossible to deny how handsome he was.
His dark hair was thick and curled. His blue eyes, shining in the natural light of the church, were accentuated by the dark blue of his suit.
His square features, those full lips, and the sheer confidence that radiated from him as if he were a king among peasants.
Beyond that, it was his personality that Helena tried to focus on—that she was convinced was a point of contention.
Charming to a fault. Cocky and arrogant.
A liar, the type who believed his own lies to such a degree that it was hard to know what the truth was. She wondered if he knew the difference.
Was there a chance this marriage might work? Helena told herself repeatedly that it could not and that she did not want it to. And right now, she confirmed it as she walked.
Still, there was an undeniable flicker of nervousness in her stomach, butterflies felt when she met the Duke’s charming gaze and saw his smile widen for her.
I do not like this man one little bit. But that does not mean he isn’t nice to look at.
“There she is.” The Duke beamed as she stopped beside him. “Oh, you look even more radiant than I remember.”
It was spoken softly, but loud enough for her father to hear.
“Right…” She frowned in confusion, then quickly realized why he was saying it. “Yes, thank you.”
“No, thank you,” he said. “For making me the happiest man in the world.”
More lies, but they were pleasant to hear. It was subtle, a tightening in her chest, pushed away and ignored because Helena knew he did not mean it.
She turned to face the minister. The Duke did the same. A quiet then descended over the church. And with that done, they were ready to begin, and the ceremony got underway.
“Dearly beloved…”
Helena had expected to stand motionless throughout the ceremony. She would accept the ring given to her. She would agree to the vows read by the minister. She would enter this marriage without complaint or objection. But she would not add to the falsity.
As it turned out, the Duke had other plans.
The moment her father ‘gave her’ to the Duke, as was tradition, he took her hand and refused to let it go. He stood as close as he could, smiling the whole while, looking down at her with such love and adoration that she very nearly believed it.
And when the ceremony reached its end, when she was officially announced as the Duke’s wife, he turned to her, took her other hand, and fixed her with a look that made her chest tighten with realization.
No. Surely, he is not going to… He cannot expect me to… Surely not!
Silence fell over them. Breaths held. Eyes unblinking. Eager smiles growing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father nodding as he wiped a tear from his eye. And then back to the Duke, who made sure that she was looking at him before he acted.
He squeezed her hands, and she felt it ripple through her body. He then started to lean in, lips puckering, and her breath caught in her throat.
On instinct, she very nearly pulled away, but she refrained from that. Only, it wasn’t because she knew she had to push this lie as hard as she could, but rather…
When she saw the Duke lean in, a small part of her almost wondered what it would feel like to have those lips on hers.
She did not move to accept the kiss, but she did not pull away either.
The Duke pulled her into him, leaned down, and placed the smallest kiss on her cheek. He held it, and she gasped as its effect washed over her, disarming her objections in ways she did not expect.
“I am so happy,” the Duke said as he looked down at her. “So very, very happy.” His smile furthered the lie, bought by all.
At that, the crowd erupted in applause. Her father stepped forward to shake the Duke’s hand. Her mother rushed to her, as did her sister, as did her friends. They grabbed her, hugged her, and told her how happy they all were.
Helena could not blame them. The Duke was playing his role as he promised, and all she could do was play along while knowing how fake the whole thing was.
Although that kiss… The way her body reacted…
Helena shook the effect away, ignoring it as best as she could. But the feel of his lips stayed on her cheek long after the act, and that was a problem she did not understand or know how to deal with.
This marriage, she was beginning to suspect, would be anything but convenient.
“Oh, it is not so interesting a story, I assure you,” the Duke chuckled gaily. “I wouldn’t want to bore you all.”
“Nonsense!” Helena’s father, the Earl of Montrose, chortled along merrily. “It is about time you told us how this all came to pass. Unfortunately, Helena has not been very forthcoming.”
“Has she not?” The Duke smiled coyly at her. “She is just shy, no doubt. Or perhaps embarrassed, although I don’t know why she would be. I am the one who should be embarrassed—acting like a lovesick fool.”
“Now you must tell us,” her mother insisted.
“Yes, tell us,” another pressed, a lord whom Helena did not know or care to. “Come now, Your Grace. Enough games.”
“The story!” cried a young lady, whom Helena also did not recognize. A wife to one of the Duke’s friends, she thought. But she also didn’t much care. “We insist.”
“Tell it! Tell it!”
They were at the wedding breakfast, hosted by Helena’s family as her father insisted.
He had taken an extreme liking to the Duke and was at pains to please the man because he seemed to think that he owed the Duke for doing him the honor of marrying his troublesome daughter, as nobody could have ever dreamed would happen.
It was a small affair, just a dozen or so people. Hosted in the dining room, Helena and the Duke had their own table at the front of the room while the other tables were lined along the walls in a large U shape.
Here, the guests were meant to sit, eat, drink, and celebrate as the day wore on. In this instance, things were not going as planned.
The score of guests gathered at Helena’s table, standing around it as they leaned in and listened with rapture to the Duke, who appeared more than happy to hold their attention.
He certainly loves a crowd. Or perhaps it is himself that he loves.