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Helena lifted her chin stubbornly, though a faint blush still warmed her cheeks. "Yes, but it's only a matter of time."

Theodora leaned in close, her eyes searching Helena's pale face. "You can say that, but I believe you simply miss the Duke. If you didn't, you would be glad he kept his distance and gave you the time to do what joined you both together from the start. Perhaps you simply miss him."

The words echoed through the quiet drawing room, vibrating against Helena's heart like the strike of a heavy bell.

"That conclusion is absurd, Theodora." Helena snapped instantly.

She stood up from the sofa, walking toward the windows that overlooked the terrace. She stared out into the sunlit gardens where Mrs. Gable was quietly rocking Oliver's cradle.

Miss him? Helena thought, her mind whirling in a tempest of denial and self-preservation. How could I possibly miss a man who is so infuriatingly cold, so unyieldingly arrogant, and so hopelessly obsessed with rules and formal propriety?

She closed her eyes tightly, pressing her forehead against the glass as the truth clawed its way to the surface despite her desperate resistance.

Yet why do I find myself staring at the empty wingback chair every evening? Why does the quiet in this vast manor feel so suffocating without the sound of his voice?

She took a deep breath, forcing the agonizing turmoil back into the dark recesses of her mind.

Theodora remained on the sofa, watching Helena with a gaze that proved she was not fooled by Helena's calm look. Before Theodora could speak, a discreet knock sounded.

Helena arranged her posture instantly, adjusting her pelisse and smoothing her hair. She hurried to the door, unlocking it before taking few steps back. "You may enter."

"Your Grace," the footman announced. "His Grace the Duke requests your presence in his study at your earliest convenience."

His study? Helena thought nervously as she smoothed the front of her skirt with trembling fingers. What could he possibly want now, on the very eve of our departure for London?

"It appears your Duke is calling for his Duchess," Theodora said softly, walking over to Helena and placing a reassuring hand upon her trembling shoulder. "Go to him, Helena. Do not keep him waiting."

Helena looked at her friend. "Thank you for coming today, Theodora. Your presence has been... more necessary than you could possibly know."

"Be brave, Helena. Do not be afraid of what your own heart is trying to tell you."

With an affectionate squeeze of Helena's hand, Theodora turned and swept past the footman.

"Inform His Grace that I shall be with him soonest."

Chapter Seventeen

"Enter," George commanded, his deep voice echoing clearly.

The heavy door swung open and Helena stepped in. She stopped just inside the doorway, holding her head high with dignity that always managed to irritate and captivate him in equal measure.

"You requested my presence, Your Grace?" Helena asked, her tone light and measured.

George allowed the silence to stretch between them, letting the tension build in rhythm with his hammering heart. He folded his hands behind his back, taking a step toward her, his blue eyes hardening into cold ice.

"It would be ill-advised to continue discussing the internal workings of our marriage with undeserving ears."

Helena froze, her dark eyes widening in shock. Her brow furrowed, and a spark of anger ignited in her eyes.

"Undeserving? When Theodora was the only one who spoke to me for-" She trailed off, shaking her head as her shock gave way to sharp indignation. "I was under the impression that it was a private visit. How do you know what transpired between Lady Theodora and myself in the drawing room?"

Roughly an hour prior to Theodora's arrival, Mr. Gibbs had entered the study, delivering the weekly household accounts. He had quietly mentioned that young Mary had been abruptly dismissed from the drawing room, after which the double doors had been locked key-tight from within while Helena and Theodora remained alone for over an hour.

But what she had heard before leaving, mixed with a little speculation and unfortunate conclusions, had thrown the servant quarters into an uproar, breeding incessant gossip. Gossip that Mr. Gibbs had heard and repeated - to George, not to the other servants.

George let out a breathy laugh as he moved around his desk.

"I warned you. Servants are the eyes and ears of this world." He paused, stopping at the corner and leaning slightly forward. Did she truly believe that locking a door after abruptly dismissing a maid would buy her privacy? In a house like this, an abrupt dismissal is a trumpet blast announcing that a secret is being kept.