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"We should be delighted for the company, Caspian," Helena said smoothly, her voice remarkably steady, even with George's large hand resting possessively against her waist, his thumb stroking a slow rhythm against her spine.

The two couples turned and began a stroll down the gravel path. The sight of two of England's most prominent ducal and noble houses walking in warm camaraderie sent fresh waves of whispered speculation through the passing carriages. Silver lorgnettes were raised in rapid succession, gentlemen tipped their hats with pronounced deference, and matrons leaned closer to their daughters, murmuring frantic observations regarding the obvious closeness between the Duke and his new wife.

For society, it was a flawless performance of dignity and married harmony. Yet beneath the fine cloth, George was conscious of every single inch of space separating his body from Helena's. Every step they took brought the curve of her hip against his thigh, making it nearly impossible for him to focus on Caspian's chatter regarding the upcoming parliamentary session.

"The Prime Minister intends to bring the corn duties up for debate before the month concludes," Caspian noted, keeping his pace matched to George's broad strides while Timothy skipped merrily ahead of them, making faces at Oliver whenever the nursemaid paused. "He will require every loyal vote in the House of Lords if he hopes to stave off the opposition's amendments."

"He shall have my vote, provided he does not alter the agricultural clauses," George replied automatically, his focus entirely fixed on the delicate woman walking beside him. She trembles when I touch her, and for the life of me, I can only hold myself back for so long, he thought, his thumb continuing its subtle movement against her waist.

"And what of the social calendar, Helena?" Arabella asked, turning her head to smile at Helena across Caspian's shoulder. "I presume Cavendish Manor will be hosting a grand ball before the winter sets in? The entire town is practically holding its breath in anticipation of your formal presentation."

Helena offered Arabella a graceful smile, though George felt her muscles tighten at the mention of a grand ball. "We have not yet finalized our winter arrangements. His Grace has been extraordinarily generous in allowing me to settle into my domestic duties before plunging into the chaos of large entertainments."

"A wise decision," Caspian agreed. "George has always preferred order over chaos, though I suspect half the hostesses in Mayfair will weep into their tea if you delay your ball past November."

"Let them weep," George interjected, his icy blue eyes sweeping over a group of young dandies who had paused near the iron railings to stare at Helena. "The duchess' comfort is of far greater import to me than satisfying the insatiable appetite of Mayfair gossips."

I would burn all of London before I let the ton control my marriage and how I handle things.

Chapter Twenty-One

"If those are the quarterly tenancy reports from the northern estates, Gibbs, leave them on the side table and see kept that the horses are exercised," George commanded, his eyes fixed upon the document spread across his desk.

His right hand held a silver quill that had remained motionless for the better part of ten minutes, the tip of the nib hovering a hairsbreadth above the parchment.

A hesitant knock sounded at the door of his study, but before George could receive a response, the door swung wide. Caspian strode into the room with his usual confidence, startling George.

"Dismiss the poor man properly, George. Do not bother him any further," Caspian said, pulling back the heavy armchair opposite the desk without waiting for an invitation.

George's gaze remained pinned to the lines of copperplate handwriting before him, though the words had long since blurred into an unreadable haze. Caspian sat in silence, watching his friend closely.

Caspian leaned his hands on the back of the armchair, a knowing grin spreading across his features as he observed his oldest friend. "How long have you been staring at that paper?"

"I am reading it," George replied flatly, refusing to offer the satisfaction of a reaction as he adjusted his grip on the quill.

"I'll wager you have not turned the page for a quarter hour."

George looked up briefly, his eyes locking onto Caspian's amused face before dropping back down to the figures he had been staring at since breakfast. "Perhaps it is a very interesting page."

Caspian let out a low snicker, shaking his head as he crossed his boots at the ankles. "Then I hope you intend to read it eventually." He rested his chin against his hand, studying George carefully. "You look like a man who has spent hours brooding over some deep conflict. Tell me, George, what is it that has you in such a bind?"

"Caspian, I'm quite occupied with the affairs of my estate," George gestured to the papers covering his desk. "What else can put one in such a state if not these?"

Caspian chuckled, leaning forward. "I know you much too well, George. Tell me, is it your wife? Has she proven quite formidable or are you simply coming to terms with the reality of married life?"

"My marriage is in impeccable order," George countered sharply, dipping his quill into the crystal inkwell. "And I am still the formidable one." Well, that title might soon switch if I can't keep my focus off the scent of Helena's perfume, the taste of her lips, and the blush in her eyes.

Caspian stayed silent, but George knew that he wasn't silent because the reply was satisfying but because he was planning a different approach. A wise man would seize control instead. "What brings you to Cavendish Manor, Caspian? I would think that a man in your position would stay by his wife every waking hour."

"You do have a point, but it is precisely because of her that I am here right now," Caspian said. "Arabella left for Glastonbury Park three days ago, as her physician insisted the country air would be far more beneficial for her during these final months before the child arrives. She is settled, but she finds the house much too quiet without suitable company."

George raised an eyebrow, laying his quill down upon the brass rest. "And you intend to join her, I presume? That seems a remarkably straightforward solution to your domestic dilemma."

"I am leaving tomorrow morning," Caspian confirmed, leaning back into the chair with elbows sinking into the leather. "And you, Helena, and little Oliver are coming with me. Arabella specifically charged me with bringing the three of you down to Hampshire. She insists that Helena requires a respite from the suffocating curiosity of Mayfair after your recent promenade, and she will hear of no excuses."

George's posture stiffened instantly. "That is entirely out of the question. Oliver is far too young to be dragged across county lines on a whim, and my duties in town require my constant presence. I have three estate committees meeting at the House of Lords next week."

"The committees can proceed without you, George, and the fresh air of Hampshire will do Oliver a world of good," Caspian insisted smoothly, waving off George's objections. "You need to get out of London."