Page 50
Helena offered a skeptical smile that did not reach her eyes. "And did your bank business require you to stand upon the pavement outside my milliner's shop, watching the entrance like a constable monitoring a suspect?"
George stiffened. "I was not following you. I was simply waiting to escort you and Arabella safely back once your purchases were completed."
"I am capable of taking a carriage ride without your constant supervision, Your Grace," Helena said.
"You are the Duchess of Cavendish," George replied smoothly. "It is my duty to ensure your security and comfort wherever and whenever you travel."
He might ensure her safety. Her comfort, though, suffered with every moment he kept his walls erect, every rule he wrapped around her.
Helena turned abruptly to the open carriage before he could speak. George offered his hand to assist her, but Helena ignored him, stepping into the carriage herself.
Without a word, George signaled the coachman, swung himself onto his stallion, and took up a position beside the carriage as they returned to the estate.
The moment they arrived at the estate, Helena stepped out onto the gravel, offering Arabella a brief smile. "Thank you for a wonderful morning, Arabella. I will have the footmen take these parcels up to my suite."
"Of course, my dear," Arabella replied softly, watching her with concern. "Rest well before the evening."
Helena turned, rushing up the steps before George could stop her. But regardless, she was still too slow.
"Helena, wait," George called out.
Helena froze.
Her name, spoken aloud in his deep baritone, carried a desperate weight of emotion that she had never heard from his lips before. The sound vibrated through her soul, leaving her utterly speechless.
George swallowed hard.
"My apologies... Your Grace." George managed to say, but the die was already cast.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"There is nothing further between us that requires discussion this afternoon. Good day, Your Grace," Helena answered without turning her head.
George returned to his room in silence, pacing the floor. Helena was just next door, but she clearly didn't want to hear a word from him. He stared at the door that separated their rooms, wondering if she had locked it on her side.
Maybe not? Maybe if I just turned the knob, she would be there waiting for me.
He took two steps to the door, but he turned back and threw himself onto his bed. He knew he could never give her true affection without exposing her to the darkness that consumed him. Silence is my only way of keeping her safe from my struggles.
Thinking in silence, he fell asleep with his arm draped over his eyes.
An hour later, George walked up to Caspian and Arabella standing near the entrance, watching the footmen load the last of the parcel boxes into the travelling carriage parked outside.
"George," Caspian spoke up. "Must you depart for Cavendish Manor so abruptly this afternoon? I confess that I have enjoyed your surly company, and I would not take exception to more of it."
George adjusted his silver cufflinks at his wrists. "Circumstances require my immediate return to the manor, Caspian. Estate business regarding the northern tenant leases cannot wait upon county festivities."
Arabella stepped beside her husband. "Helena appears quite exhausted from our morning in town, George. Are you certain a four-hour carriage journey in the afternoon chill is wise for her right now?"
"Her Grace is quite resilient," George replied smoothly. "The quiet of the manor will suit her far better than a crowded ballroom."
The heavy travelling coach rattled out shortly thereafter. Inside the spacious compartment, Helena sat across from George, her gaze fixed on the rolling Hampshire landscape outside.
"The wind is rising from the east," George offered into the heavy silence. "It will likely rain before we cross the county line."
"Indeed," Helena replied softly.
An hour into the journey, the continuous swaying of the coach and the clatter of the horses' hooves wearied them both. Helena found solace in sleep, resting her head against the window.
