Helena moved her gaze to the window, sunlight catching in her dark eyes. “Many felt he was the perfect match for my wit—as in, between the two of us, we had little.”
Ash grew indignant. “They were wrong. You can certainly talk, but you aren’t a featherhead. You have much good sense, which you disguise by hedging around it. You hide your intelligence, though I cannot fathom why.”
“No one wants a clever lady,” Helena said. “Quite irritating, is a woman who claims to be intelligent.”
“Well, it does not irritate me.”
The smile she gave him lit fires in his heart. “How kind of you. But I’ve always said you were kind.”
Kind? The formidable Duke of Ashford, who demanded perfection of the entire world, was kind?
He wasn’t. He knew full well that Merrivale had suggested Ash retreat to Somerset because he was making everyone in the ministry spare with his meticulousness. His expectations were high, his disapproval swift.
“Very good of you to say so,” Ash said stiffly.
“You do not believe me, I see, but it is true. You adore your children and take every sort of care for them. Your servants are well treated and paid a good wage. You indulge your friend, Mr. Lovell, though he is as unlike you as another gentleman can be. And you’ve allowed me to come and nurse you without bodily showing me the door.”
“I couldn’t at the moment if I wanted to.” Ash cleared his throat. “I’m pathetically weak.”
“Indeed, no. Laid up, yes, but weak, never. You are the strongest man I know.”
They shared another look, Helena’s deep brown eyes lightened with flecks of gold. If Ash had been well, he’d have already pulled her into the bed with him to kiss her, drowning in her softness. Perhaps boldly rolling her over to the mattress and showing her what he’d dreamed of in the night.
If he’d been a well man, however, she would not be in his bedchamber at all. She’d only entered because at this instant, he was harmless.
Helena returned to him and smoothed the covers once more. Ash liked the warmth of her hands through the sheets, comforting and arousing at the same time.
She patted his arm, unaware of the incandescence she stirred within him. “Now then, you take four of these draughts a day—morning, afternoon, evening, and before you sleep—and that nasty chill will be gone in no time. I’ll tell Edwards.”
Ash suppressed a shudder. Edwards, who had a soft spot for Helena, would obey her instructions to the letter. Then again, the concoctions weren’t so bad. They were sweet yet with underlying vigor, like Helena herself.
“Sleep now, dear Ash.” Helena pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips cool on his hot skin.
“Are you returning home?” Ash asked, trying to make the question casual. “At least, to the cottage of your friend?”
“Do you wish me to?” Helena also pretended nonchalance, but Ash caught the trepidation in her voice.
“No.” Ash realized the word was brusque, and softened his tone. “No. The children would love to see you.”
Her answering smile held relief. “Then I’ll stay. Give me a shout if you need me.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, then turned away, straightened the bottles on the table one last time, and breezed out.
Ash imagined himself, well and strong once more, standing on the landing of the great hall and calling her name. Helena! Darling. I need you. Her answering voice, as natural as breathing. I’ll be there directly, dear Ash.
The picture was so heady he closed his eyes tightly to shut it out.
Helena remained at Middlebrook Castle for two days, at Lady Florence’s insistence. So good for the children to have her about, Florence said. Helena agreed and promised to stay until Ash grew better.
He healed in a remarkably short time. Ash spent only one more day in bed. The next, he was up and bellowing for Edwards to help him dress. He remained in indoor clothes—light suit covered with a banyan and slippers, and shut himself into his library.
Edwards assured Helena that Ash was taking the remedies as instructed, which the valet believed led to his quick recovery.
Ash ordered that Lewis, Evie, and Lily be kept from him until the danger of contagion had passed. The children were not happy about that, but Helena kept them busy writing Ash letters expressing good wishes for his health.
Lily showed Helena her finished letter, executed in stilted handwriting.
Dearest Papa, Please grow well so you can read to us again, and do not leave the exciting bits out anymore. I am old enough for them now. The very best wishes and tender feelings from your dearest Lily.
“If you married Papa, he’d never be ill,” Lily declared after Helena had praised the letter.
Helena gave her a startled look. “Gracious, I do not believe your papa would be happy with that idea.”
“Why not?” Evie put in. “The only lady he ever speaks of is you. And you fit all our requirements. First of all, you are tall.”
“Perhaps.” Helena could not find the words to argue with her and tried to turn them to other activities.
Lewis, a bit older than his sisters, said nothing, but he looked morose. His scheme for getting his father married off was failing, and he knew it.
The next morning, Helena told herself it was high time to leave. Ash had dressed to go out riding, hale once more, his schedule resumed.
Helena could not stay without causing scandal—any more than she already had by rushing to his bedside the moment she’d heard he was ill. Thank heavens she had the reputation for being a busybody and pushing her remedies on all and sundry. No one believed her to be a scheming seductress—which was a bit insulting when she thought about it.
Ash politely saw her out to Millicent’s waiting carriage, and began to hand her up into it. Helena felt his strong fingers on hers, looked down into his gray eyes, and knew she did not want to leave.
She longed to stay in his house, have him return after riding his lands and tell her all about what he’d done that day. They’d sit by the fire while he sipped brandy and she did his mending.
Helena wanted this so much she put on a frozen smile. “Good day, Your Grace,” she said, the words stilted. “I will have your aunt call on me at Millicent’s to continue discussing your potential nuptials.”
Ash stiffened, his grip tightening. “I remember telling you to give up the idea.”
“Indeed, no. I made a promise to Lewis, and I never go back on my word.”
Ash’s eyes blazed with sudden fury—his vigor had certainly returned. He pushed Helena up into the carriage, and to her amazement climbed in with her, slamming the door and ordering the driver to start.
Chapter 6
Ash was quite elegant in his greatcoat, riding togs, and tall hat, Helena thought as she faced him across the small space of the carriage. He skimmed off the hat and slammed it to the seat beside him, his hair pleasantly mussed. No longer unshaven and flushed with fever, he looked most civilized, yet robust.
He was handsome either way, Helena reflected, even when he had a drippy nose.
The nose today was perfectly dry and no longer red, his eyes glittering over it.
“I will speak to Lewis,” Ash said. “You must drop this nonsense.”