The Duke Didn't Want Love — He Wanted a Practical Wife. Then Her Carriage Arrived 40 Minutes Late
Chapter 22
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The marriage service followed the familiar words of the church. Their vows were not rewritten into modern declarations, and neither required the other to forget the world in which they lived. Yet when Helena placed her hand in his, Avery understood the promise beneath the ceremony more clearly than he had understood any agreement he had drafted.Afterwards, they stood for a quiet moment near the churchyard wall while Marian greeted the small company of guests. The air smelled of winter grass. Avery looked down at his new wife with an expression that made her smile."I once thought I wanted a wife who would ask me for nothing," he said."I shall ask you to listen," Helena replied. "Often. And I shall tell you when I am troubled, instead of deciding for both of us.""That may prove difficult for Your Grace.""Then you must be extraordinarily patient.""I make no such promise."He laughed, and she loved him all the more for it.That evening, Briarcombe welcomed Marian, Mrs. Bell, Mercer, and a small circle of friends to supper. There was no extravagant ball and no attempt to make a single day stand in for all the happiness to come: a fire burned steadily; the servants came and went without apprehension; Helena listened to Marian describing the absurd weather of the preceding week, and she felt the quiet, almost unbelievable satisfaction of having a place at the table without surrendering herself to earn it.In December, frost silvered the gardens. Ruth Elwood's cottage remained dry, and Fenwick's completed work had been checked against the materials actually delivered. The estate books still required attention; this time, the people behind the figures were heard.One evening, Helena came into Avery's study carrying a note about the winter coal allotments. He was bent over a ledger, his expression so severe that she almost laughed."I believe we have overlooked the two cottages nearest the North Road," she said.Avery set down his pen and closed the book. "Then sit with me. Tell me what you have found."She sat in the chair beside him. They disagreed about the quantities required, considered the remaining stores, and decided together to check the deliveries before ordering more. No poet would have called their discussion romantic; Helena treasured it more than a polished declaration because he had put down his pen to listen.When their discussion was finished, she took out the old glove she had kept all autumn. From the wooden case Avery had given her, she drew a length of blue thread and carefully repaired the seam that had broken on the night she thought their future had ended.Avery watched for a moment, then returned to his reading without disturbing her work.Beyond the windows, the winter dark gathered around Briarcombe Hall. Inside, two chairs stood close to the fire, and both were occupied. Their home was not quiet because neither spoke; it was peaceful because both were heard.