Helena was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.
"Your father was not a happy man. I grant you that. But he understood his duty. He did what was expected of him, even when it was difficult."
"And where did that get him? Is that the life you want for me? Is that what you think my mother would have wanted?"
"Your mother would have wanted you to be secure. Comfortable. Protected."
"My mother would have wanted me to be happy." The words came out fierce, certain. "I may not have many memories of her, but I remember that. She wanted me to laugh, to play, to be a child, not a miniature duke in training. And if she were here now, if she could see who I've become and who I could be, I think she would tell me to follow my heart. Even if it led me somewhere unexpected."
Helena's expression flickered; something passing across her face that might have been doubt, or memory, or grief.
"You speak of happiness as if it's simple. As if you can just decide to be happy and everything else will fall into place." She shook her head. "The world doesn't work that way, Frederick. Especially not our world."
"Then maybe our world is wrong."
"Our world is what it is. You can rail against it, but you cannot change it."
"I'm not trying to change the world. I'm just trying to live in it as myself, not as a hollow shell wearing a coronet." Frederick took a breath, forcing himself to be calm. "Aunt Helena, I know you think you're protecting me. I know you loved my mother, and you feel responsible for me because she's gone.But protecting me from happiness is not what she would have wanted. And it's not what I want."
"What you want is irrelevant. What matters is…"
"What I want is the only thing that matters. It's my life, my choice, my future." He stepped closer to her, close enough to see the lines around her eyes, the silver threading through her hair, the woman beneath the formidable exterior. "I'm not the child you remember, Aunt Helena. I'm not the boy who needed protecting. I'm a grown man, and I'm asking you, begging you, to let me make my own decisions. Even if you think they're wrong."
Helena's eyes glistened. For a moment, just a moment, Frederick thought she might relent, she might see reason. She might even remember that she had once been young and hopeful too.
Then her expression hardened again.
"You didn't know her like I did," she said quietly. "She was romantic, yes. But she was also practical. She understood the way the world worked."
"Then help me change the way the world works. Stand with me instead of against me. Be my aunt instead of my adversary."
For a moment, Frederick thought he'd reached her. He thought he saw something soften in her eyes, some crack in the armour she wore.
Then her expression hardened again.
"I can't support this, Frederick. I'm sorry, but I can't. It goes against everything I believe, everything I was raised to value." She straightened her spine, reassembling the Dowager Viscountess piece by piece. "But I love you. You're my sister's only child, and I love you. So I'm going to give you a chance to reconsider."
"Reconsider what?"
"This infatuation. This temporary madness." Helena reached into her reticule and withdrew a letter, which she heldout to him. "Lord Ashby's daughter, Veronica. She's nineteen, well-educated, and accomplished in all the ways that matter. Her family's connections are impeccable, and her dowry is substantial. I've been cultivating this match for two years, waiting until you showed any interest in marrying at all."
Frederick didn't take the letter. "I'm not interested."
"You haven't even met her."
"I don't need to meet her. I'm not going to marry a woman I don't love just because her connections are impeccable."
"Love," Helena said the word like it tasted bitter. "Love is a luxury, Frederick. A nice addition to a marriage if you can manage it, but not a necessity. What matters is suitability. Compatibility. The ability to build a life together that serves both parties' interests."
"That's not what marriage should be."
"That's what marriage is, for people like us. Anything else is fantasy."
She pressed the letter into his hands despite his resistance, then stepped back.
"I'm returning to London tomorrow. But I'll be back in one week. By then, I expect you to have come to your senses. To have ended this ill-advised liaison and agreed to at least meet Veronica Ashby." Her eyes met his, hard and determined. "If you haven't... I will be forced to take steps to protect this family's reputation. Steps you will not enjoy."
"What does that mean?"
