Chapter 5 #2
The Duke sat beside Helena. From the moment they arrived, he took his seat, just as he took her hand, refusing to let it go as if doing so might literally kill him.
He stroked her hand as he spoke, beaming at her lovingly.
To all who watched, it was clear that he was head over heels in love, and this was the happiest day of his life.
“Oh, if you all insist,” he sighed and shook his head, then rolled his eyes as he prepared himself for a story that Helena knew he was eager to tell. One that she did not even know the details of. “Unless…” He looked at her. “My sweet, do you wish to tell it?”
She had to refrain from scowling. “No, no…” A forced smile. “You will tell it better than I.”
He laughed. “I suppose it is my story, isn’t it? What with the way I behaved—like a puppy hounding its owner for a treat, and I am not ashamed to admit it. Such is how smitten I was from the moment I saw her.”
“When was this?” her father asked. He was standing to the Duke’s right, leaning in close, eagerness painted across his face. “I admit, I had no idea the two of you had ever met.”
“We hadn’t,” the Duke explained merrily.
“The truth is, I saw sweet Helena months ago at Hyde Park, walking with friends. I can still remember the exact moment…” He allowed his eyes to drift.
“The way the sun shone on her fair skin, the way her eyes sparkled in the light, and the sound of her laughter.” He breathed out deeply. “In that moment, I was a changed man.”
“Oh, please…” Helena muttered under her breath.
“Naturally, I found out who she was, at which point I began to write to her. Do you remember my first letter?” The Duke was looking at her, his smile wide and earnest. “Do you?”
She had to work not to narrow her eyes at him. “Remind me.”
He laughed and squeezed her hand for all to see. “Just me, waxing lyrical about your beauty and how enraptured I was by you. Truly, I worried I had overdone it and that you might not write back…” he trailed off, again watching her.
Helena was struggling to comprehend just how effortlessly the Duke was selling their romance. And how much he was enjoying it.
She had done a little digging into him these past few weeks, learning that he was a political force and an expert manipulator when it came to Parliament. Charming. Personable. The type of man whom everyone seemed to like and want to be liked by.
I might be the storyteller here, but he is the thespian who lives in the stories he creates. It is no wonder this is so easy for him.
“I was certainly intrigued,” she offered.
“Enough to respond, at least,” the Duke laughed, to which the crowd joined in.
“And thank God for that. Her response had me floating, and over the following weeks, we engaged in a most clandestine affair of the written word. Never daring to meet, wanting to so desperately. And when Helena told me of the ball she was hosting…” He squeezed her hand again. “We knew it was time.”
“To propose?” her father prompted.
“Not exactly,” the Duke corrected. “To meet was the idea. To see if the spark lived off the page. But the second I saw her standing in the library…” He shook his head, and his eyes glazed over. “She seemed to glow in the light.”
He made sure to be looking right at her, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Her auburn hair shone to match her fiery temper. Those bright green eyes are intelligent and enchanting. And her smile…” Slowly, he reached out as if to touch them, only to stop himself as if it was the hardest thing to do.
“I thought I knew true beauty before that moment, only to realize the lie I was living. Suffice to say, I fell in love and knew right then that I would not be happy until I made her mine.”
Of course, it was all a lie, and Helena knew it. Or so she told herself.
But as the Duke told his story, he fixed her with a look that transcended falsity. His blue eyes drank her in as if she were a tonic. His lips curved in adoration. His hand was still holding her own, keeping her close to him because he could not bring himself to lose her.
It is all lies, words he needs to say. A part of the ruse only…
Yet in that moment, as his voice dropped, as the guests watched on, as his words washed over her and their eyes held, Helena felt a stirring deep within.
She searched the Duke for the truth, expecting a grin or a wink or something to confirm that he did not believe his own words. But there was nothing.
Helena had never been courted before. She had never been chased by a man, complimented so freely, or made the center of attention for reasons pertaining to her beauty. And despite what she knew, it was hard not to feel flattered by his words. To enjoy them more than what was right.
A slight smile curved her lips, and her chest tightened.
“And that was that.” The Duke turned away from her, breaking the spell.
Helena lurched and took a deep breath, ripped from the moment, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
“Love at first sight, it was.”
The crowd cheered, and her father slapped the Duke on the back. It was a story Helena might have written herself, and she eyed the Duke warily, wondering how he had managed to come up with such a tale.
And all the while, her heart fluttered in her chest, and she struggled to control her breathing. This marriage was false, and the Duke had made sure she knew it. Only…
Is it really false? Or did he just tell me that so I would agree to marry him?
Absurd, she knew, but she could not dismiss the way he spoke about her, the way he looked at her, and the way she felt when he did. Not something she wanted, but was that such a bad thing? Or was Helena simply getting caught up in the lie as the Duke intended?
And why did that thought make her feel suddenly ill?