Page 20 of The Haunted Duke

“He is not my friend,” she said at last, her voice low and trembling. “But he is a man, madam, one who bled and suffered so that other women might be spared a fate none of us can even imagine, and you sit here weaving him into some fireside tale for your own delight. Have you no shame? He deserves better than to be spoken of as some curiosity for your amusement.”

She had not meant to shout, but the more she talked, the angrier she became, and so her voice grew louder. Even as the last of it left her, she felt a flicker of surprise at herself, at the heat in her own voice over a man who had done nothing since their meeting but treat her as if she was poisonous. She could not explain it.

The modiste blanched as her mouth fell agape.

“I… No, Miss. Apologies. I did not mean to offend you.”

The modiste nodded vigorously as she bowed, as if trying to hide her suddenly flushed face, which was now bright red from forehead to chin.

Good. You should be embarrassed.

“I believe you have everything you require from me,” Helena stated, needing now more than ever to get out of the shop, out of the town, and into her own room back at Winterbourne Estate. “You may finish the rest of the stitches without my presence, I am sure.”

“Yes, of course. Miss. I am… Please accept my apologies,” the modiste murmured nervously as she rose to her feet and followed Helena to the changing room.

“My maid can help me,” Helena snapped. “You may stand out there and wait for the dress. Aggie!”

“Coming, Miss!” Aggie called, flying around the corner.

Helena glared at the modiste as she shut the curtain with a harsh snap.

“The nerve!” Helena whispered vehemently. “Did you hear her!”

“Yes, Miss,” Aggie agreed, her hands moving quickly down the long line of pearl buttons.

“How can people be so cruel? How can they believe such atrocious stories?”

“I do not know, Miss,” Aggie commented, then hesitantly added. “Though I was surprised that you defended His Grace. After bickering with him all day long, I thought—”

“I was not defending him!” Helena snapped. “I was showing common courtesy!”

“Of course, Miss,” Aggie agreed.

Helena closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then reached back to hold Aggie’s hand.

“Please accept my apologies, Aggie. I did not mean to snap at you,” she said with a pleading look.

Aggie gave her a kind smile.

“I know, Miss,” Aggie said in an assuring tone.

Helena took another deep breath as Aggie gently pulled the sleeves of the wedding dress down her arms.

“I believe I am just out of sorts,” she confessed. “This wedding is coming upon us so fast, and with Jeremy’s sudden departure, I am even more perplexed. He loves to plan a party. Why is he not here? What is so important in London that could take him away from this?”

Aggie was quiet as she finished helping Helena out of the wedding dress, then stepped back, holding it gingerly in her arms for a brief second.

“I do not know, Miss,” she said softly, holding up the dress. “But what I do know is that this gown truly does look lovely on you, and I am sure Mr. Winterbourne will adore you in it.”

Helena thought of the way the Duke’s jaw had tightened when she stepped out in it, how his eyes had gone dark just before he looked away. As if the sight of her had displeased him greatly.

“Thank you, Aggie. That is very kind of you to say,” she replied, then let out a dry laugh. “I had worried a little when His Grace had so few words to say about it.”

She told herself it did not matter. She did not know why it should sting at all, the opinion of a man who plainly could not stand the sight of her. And yet it did.

“You need worry about nothing, Miss,” Aggie assured her as she hung up the dress and reached for the dark blue day gown Helena had worn into the shop. “I am sure he is just unused to being asked about such things. Most men are.”

“Yes,” Helena agreed as Aggie helped her get dressed. “Yes, of course you are right. Perhaps I put too much pressure on His Grace. Some things are best left to women.”