Page 51 of Duke of Seduction
“He is not good for her,” Morgan insisted sharply.
“Why?” Ambrose responded quickly. “You are my brother. Tell me why and I will take your words to heart.”
Morgan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was not what he knew, he realized, but what he felt, and he could never tell Ambrose how he felt. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to regain his composure. He would indeed fight. But later, and not with Ambrose.
“I have not been myself as of late,” Morgan finally said curtly. At least that was the truth. I find myself… becoming withdrawn, and I cannot grasp why.”
“Then speak to me, brother,” Ambrose insisted, his brow deeply furrowed with concern. “It does not have to make sense at first, but we have always been better at working things out together than apart. All of us. Remember Duncan, and when he felt this way after marrying Alice?”
Morgan let out a dry laugh, recalling the way he, Ambrose and Ezra had traipsed into the wilderness of the countryside to look for Duncan, only to find him drunk and terrified of losing the woman he loved. Pain sliced through his chest as he now felt the familiarity of such a fear.
Do I…do I love Helena?
No. I cannot. I simply care for her wellbeing.
“I will be well, brother,” Morgan insisted, some of his rage retreating into its dark corner. “I am just out of sorts.”
Ambrose stepped up to him again, and this time as he laid his hand on Morgan’s shoulder, he did not brush it off.
“Out of sorts or not, you are still family and we care about you. Please, do not pull yourself away.”
Morgan nodded as he felt the brotherly love from Ambrose flow into him. Only this time, as it tried to make its way into his heart, it was met with a barrier, as though his heart had become fully occupied by someone else.
“Come to dinner next week,” Ambrose urged. “Any night, there is no need for an invitation. Just… come over and be present with us, Morgan.”
Us.As in not just Ambrose, but Helena as well. And how many more moments would he get to dine with her so casually?
“Very well,” Morgan agreed, forcing a smile upon his face. “Apologies for my outburst, Ambrose.”
“Do not mention it,” Ambrose replied quickly. “Just let us be a family again.”
Helena’s thoughts and feelings churned relentlessly as the day drew on. Ambrose had returned an hour later, and though Helena had pressed her ear against the door of his study while he talked with Barbara, she could not make out what was said. By the time the clock struck nine she could no longer tolerate the worry. Donning her cloak, Helena snuck from her home and went to Morgan’s, this time without an invitation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Bloody hell,” Morgan muttered, pressing the ice cube filled rag against his left cheekbone. It was swollen and bruised in four distinct colors, and a laceration sliced through its center. He had another on the right side of his jaw, and he was not even going to attempt to count the ones that covered the rest of his body.
It was not often he risked a fight during the daytime, but after his run-in with Helena in the park and then Ambrose on the street, he had needed a fight like a fish needs water. This time there was no Duncan to pull him away, and he had finally been able to fully unleash himself. Six fights. More than he had ever accepted in one day, and he had won them all, though he had barely scraped by during the last one. His fury had decreased slightly, but his strength had dried up completely, and he’d had to resort to a head butt.
“Morgan.”
Helena’s soft voice resounded in the silence of his library, and Morgan felt his heartbeat stammer as he looked away from the small mirror. His body instantly tensed and warmed as he saw her standing before him, a look of terror marring her beautiful face.
“Helena, what are you doing here?” he rasped, shocked by her sudden presence.
A deep, pulsating sense of pleasure began to spread through his chest at the realization thatshehad come tohim, even after how he had behaved today and how angrily he had glared at her. He had regretted it the moment he walked away, which was the reason he had gone to the fights.
Morgan’s heart wrenched as he saw tears well up in Helena’s eyes.
“I am all right,” he whispered as she rushed towards him.
“What happened to you? Who did this?”
Her soft voice was full of worry as she delicately touched and inspected the wounds on his face, her eyes still filled with terror as she no doubt thought the worst.
“Easy, little one,” Morgan soothed, capturing her hands in his own. “I am fine. They are just bruises, and they will fade.”
“Just bruises?Justbruises?” Helena hissed, picking up the rag of ice he had just placed on the table.
