THE DUKE AND HIS RELUCTANT BRIDE

Chapter 3

Helen

I stood before the tall looking glass in my room, my maid bent down to straighten the tip of my cloth. It was tasteful and modest.

“You should attend the Bramwell ball tonight, miss,” she said, smoothing the fabric at my waist. “Everyone in London will be there.”

I laughed briefly. “All of London’s daughters perhaps, lined up like commodities to be inspected.”

The maid smiled. “It is not an ordinary ball. The Duke is said to be attending.”

I turned sharply. “This ball should just be called the Duke’s ball at this point.”

“Absolutely,” the maid said gently. “He is wealthy, powerful, and said to be very handsome too.”

“And entirely overrated,” I cut in. “I fail to see why someone confirming their attendance should make everyone crazy and every young woman eager to present themselves before him.”

The maid tied a ribbon in my hair. “Marriage is security, miss.”

My eyes hardened. “For men. For women, it is a restriction. We are raised to think being married is all we should dream of.”

I reached for my gloves, then paused; my eyes caught the tray of flowers prepared for my afternoon lesson.

“Flower arranging,” I muttered. “Another skill designed to teach me how to be a great host to my future husband’s guests, while my own ambitions are set aside.”

The maid hesitated. “Still… they say the duke admires intelligence.”

I arched a brow. “Indeed.”

I moved toward the door, gathering my skirts. “Come. I refuse to be late to a class meant to perfect my surrender.”

I walked through the large corridors and went straight to my father’s office. I heard voices as I approached the door and could hear their conversation even as I stood outside.

“The repayment date has come sooner than we planned,” My father said quietly. “Much sooner.”

“We are not ready. If we delay, there will be consequences.” He exhaled. “We are exposed.”

I didn’t care what they were talking about as they never involved me in their affairs. My father and my brother work to keep the family stable and its wealth intact. I opened the door without knocking,

Both of them sat opposite one another in the office, their voices low and tense.

Both fell silent at once.

I stepped inside, pausing at their abrupt silence. My father rose too quickly, reaching for his gloves, while Frederick straightened his coat, his face pale.

“So,” I said sharply, placing my gloves on the table, “while I am sent to flower arranging, you leave for business meetings.” I scoffed. “Tell me which of us is being prepared for the future.”

My father forced a chuckle. “My dear, futures differ.”

“Take comfort,” Frederick added lightly, though his eyes darted to Isaac, “flowers are not as hard as business.”

“Also not as important as business,” I replied. I studied them now, noting the stiffness, the fear poorly concealed. “You look worried, is everything alright?”

“Absolutely,” my father said too quickly.

“Just routine matters,” Frederick added at once.

I remained unconvinced, but Father leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead.

They departed together, their footsteps hurrying, leaving me alone in the office, in the silence and the unsettling certainty that something important had been hidden from me.

The morning promenade was unusually quiet.

Ladies clustered along the graveled path; their voices were threaded with disappointment thinly disguised as civility. Gentlemen stood nearby, listening more than they spoke.

I walked beside Rachael, my pace unhurried, my expression faintly amused.

“So much anticipation,” I said, “for a man who is less concerned.”

Rachael sighed. “The Duke’s absence has overshadowed every other subject this morning.”

“And rightly so,” I replied. “To confirm one’s attendance and then refuse to come is arrogance, nonchalance, and pride at its peak.”

I glanced toward a group of young women whispering furiously. “All that effort, all those gowns, only to be disappointed by one man.”

My tone softened. “Elizabeth must be heartbroken. She prepared for the ball with great anticipation.”

Rachael hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Elizabeth did not attend the ball.”

I turned to her. “Why?”

“I overheard my father in his study. Her family is in crisis. They owe the duke. Several families are included.”

I slowed. “The Duke of Greystone?”

Rachael nodded. “The creditors have arranged an urgent meeting with the duke. To beg him for more time.”

“I hope he listens.” Rachael paused. “But hope is all they seem to possess.”

My earlier amusement faded at once. Elizabeth’s absence from the flower arranging class now makes sense.

“So that is why she missed class,” I said softly. “She never misses it. Not for anything.”

“They fear forfeiture,” Rachael continued. “Houses. Land. Livelihoods.”

My gaze drifted ahead. Previously, the duke had been merely a simple irritation to me, someone who received more admiration than they deserved.

Now, all has changed.

And for the first time, I concluded that irritation was not enough for the duke; it’s high time I moved from mere irritation to hatred.

My mind raced. Without a second thought, I hurried from the promenade until I reached Elizabeth’s house.

I barely knocked before the door opened, revealing my friend, pale and drawn, standing amid a trunk half-packed with clothes.

“Elizabeth!” I exclaimed, stepping inside. “I came as quickly as I could. Rachael said… she said your family is in crisis.”

Elizabeth’s eyes blinked, sorrow written over her face. “Helen… Rachael is right.

I grasped her hands. “They said People are going to him; there is still hope. Perhaps, the Duke.”

Elizabeth shook her head, a faint, sad smile curving her lips. “Helen, it’s foolish to hope sometimes. This debt has haunted my family for generations. My grandfather gambled away all we had. My family has been in debt since then, and now we are at the duke’s mercy again. If he refuses… we may be forced to leave London, to live among the ruins of what once was.”

My chest tightened. “But you endure. Elizabeth. Perhaps the Duke will hear reason and….”

Elizabeth let out a quiet laugh, hollow but tinged with warmth. “Endure, yes. But to hope… it is harder. The city is harsh to those who fall.”

Her hands trembled as she looked at the floor. Tears stored in her eyes rolled down her cheek.

My heart clenched at the sight. I moved closer, gathering Elizabeth into a gentle embrace.