The Duke Didn't Want Love — He Wanted a Practical Wife. Then Her Carriage Arrived 40 Minutes Late
Chapter 9
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"Then perhaps you may begin here."From the adjoining salon, Marian called for the tea tray. The familiar sounds saved them from saying too much. Avery drew a slow breath and asked Helena to accompany him to the table. As they passed the open doorway, he said quietly:"If we had no household sums to discuss, would you still wish to know me?"Helena's answer came before caution could prevent it: "I think I would."He stopped. She heard her own confession hanging between them, small but irretrievable."I hope," he said, "that you will."Later, when the guests had gone, Helena remained at Marian's table with her hands folded around a cooling cup. The evening had been happier than she had permitted herself to expect; that was precisely what frightened her. She knew how to guard against arrogance and insult; she knew much less about guarding against a man whose voice could soften over a tune his mother had loved.At Briarcombe the following morning, Vane laid two invoices side by side and saw that one bore a name linked to a relative he had promised to help. He closed the ledger slowly. Years of clever arrangements had seemed harmless while nobody looked beyond the totals. Now, a young woman with an old glove and an inconvenient regard for truth had made the Duke look again.On Monday, the 29th of September, Avery asked Helena whether she would consent to become formally engaged to him. There was no dramatic kneeling and no declaration of passion: they stood in Lady Marian's garden while she arranged the late roses under the supervision of an elderly gardener, and Avery spoke as if the words mattered enough to require care."I cannot promise that I shall be easy to live with," he said."I should distrust you if you did.""I can promise that I wish to learn, and that our marriage, if it happens, will not require you to become silent.""'If it happens,'" she repeated."You may change your mind. The agreement must be ours, or it is no agreement."She looked toward the windows of Marian's house. For years, the future had been a matter of finding employment before the last wages were spent. Now a different possibility stood before her—frightening not merely because it was grand, but because she wanted it."Yes," she said. "I will be engaged to you."He smiled with such visible relief that she laughed, and the embarrassment of being observed suddenly mattered less than it should have.Marian arranged a small tea the next afternoon so that their engagement might be acknowledged without the spectacle of a crowded announcement. Several neighboring families called—some kindly curious, others less skillful at hiding their judgments. Helena wore her best dark green gown, brushed until it seemed nearly new. Avery remained beside her through the first greetings, then stepped aside when she spoke, never answering every question on her behalf.One guest, an older woman whose tone was polished to a dangerous smoothness, observed that Lady Marian had been generous to offer a home to a young lady who had found her circumstances unexpectedly altered. "I understand you left your last situation rather suddenly, Miss Morland," she added.