and unprotestingly allowed herself to be led like a lamb to the slaughter.
Slaughter. Not so amusing when he remembered the life he led. The life he was determined to lead. Ros would have joined him, dressed as a man, or amused herself with gusto as she traveled the world. He had thought it the perfect solution for them both, but he understood Ros's belated skittishness. Her nature did not lend itself to motherhood.
Helena was another matter altogether. He could picture her with a babe in her arms. She would know how to soothe tears and coax smiles. Surely she understood that he would not interfere with the child, or with her running of his household, once he had one. Wasn't that enough for a sensible woman?
Although, the only sensible woman he had ever met was Ros, and she was more like a man than a woman. The same could not be said for her sister, even though Helena swore she did not believe in love. He liked that Helena responded so easily to him. He would enjoy bedding her. But he must guard against letting her fall in love with him at all costs.
And he must guard against having her hurt … as much as he was able. She obviously put more stock in her reputation than Ros ever had. She might be hurt by the gossip that swirled around him. She might care what people thought of him — of her because she was his wife.
Wife. The very word caused his belly to knot. He had done it. He had married and soon he would have a child, and with it control of his life would be back in his hands. Unable to contain his elation, he grinned at Helena as she quietly repeated her vows.
Her eyes widened and she hesitated a moment as she uttered the word "obey." But she recovered smoothly enough to finish the vows that would bind her to him. She even gave him a tentative smile in return.
He shouldn't show his joy, not here, with his grandfather watching. That he knew. But he could not contain it. Most of his contemporaries considered marriage the end of their freedom, understandably enough. But to him, thanks to his agreement with Helena, and his life becoming his own again, it was not the end of freedom, but the beginning.
As the minister proclaimed them wed, Rand took Helena's hands. She looked at him in confusion, but did not pull away. No doubt she was afraid to cause a scene when every eye in the chapel was turned upon them. He wondered how long she would take to learn that very fear made her vulnerable to him? And how would she react to the knowledge?
He knew he shouldn't, but still he waited impatiently for the last words of the minister to conclude matters definitively and then swept her up into his arms for a full-mouthed kiss, which made their guests gasp with surprise — and murmur with envy, no doubt. They were already in the mood for scandal, as the duke had announced the change in brides before the ceremony began.
He kissed her until she stopped resisting and returned his kiss in full and then he laughed in her ear when she made a faint sound of distress as she looked out at the sea of faces watching them. Let another black mark rest on his reputation; what did it matter? He had a bride and soon would have an heir and control of his own destiny at last.
He pulled her to him and put an arm around her as he escorted her away from the chapel and into the open carriage that would carry them the few streets back to the duke's home and the magnificent feast that awaited them there.
She barely touched his hand when he helped her into the carriage, and sat stiffly apart from him. "Sorry?" he asked, when the horses were underway. "I thought I saw a distinct rabbit in the grip of a fox expression upon your face for a moment. Was it the word "obey"? For you needn't, you know. That was our bargain, after all."
Was she sorry? Helena sorted through the various emotions that roiled inside her. Worry for the future. A dreamlike sense of her life rushing past too fast for her to grasp hold of. Desire and fear to take what he offered and
Slaughter. Not so amusing when he remembered the life he led. The life he was determined to lead. Ros would have joined him, dressed as a man, or amused herself with gusto as she traveled the world. He had thought it the perfect solution for them both, but he understood Ros's belated skittishness. Her nature did not lend itself to motherhood.
Helena was another matter altogether. He could picture her with a babe in her arms. She would know how to soothe tears and coax smiles. Surely she understood that he would not interfere with the child, or with her running of his household, once he had one. Wasn't that enough for a sensible woman?
Although, the only sensible woman he had ever met was Ros, and she was more like a man than a woman. The same could not be said for her sister, even though Helena swore she did not believe in love. He liked that Helena responded so easily to him. He would enjoy bedding her. But he must guard against letting her fall in love with him at all costs.
And he must guard against having her hurt … as much as he was able. She obviously put more stock in her reputation than Ros ever had. She might be hurt by the gossip that swirled around him. She might care what people thought of him — of her because she was his wife.
Wife. The very word caused his belly to knot. He had done it. He had married and soon he would have a child, and with it control of his life would be back in his hands. Unable to contain his elation, he grinned at Helena as she quietly repeated her vows.
Her eyes widened and she hesitated a moment as she uttered the word "obey." But she recovered smoothly enough to finish the vows that would bind her to him. She even gave him a tentative smile in return.
He shouldn't show his joy, not here, with his grandfather watching. That he knew. But he could not contain it. Most of his contemporaries considered marriage the end of their freedom, understandably enough. But to him, thanks to his agreement with Helena, and his life becoming his own again, it was not the end of freedom, but the beginning.
As the minister proclaimed them wed, Rand took Helena's hands. She looked at him in confusion, but did not pull away. No doubt she was afraid to cause a scene when every eye in the chapel was turned upon them. He wondered how long she would take to learn that very fear made her vulnerable to him? And how would she react to the knowledge?
He knew he shouldn't, but still he waited impatiently for the last words of the minister to conclude matters definitively and then swept her up into his arms for a full-mouthed kiss, which made their guests gasp with surprise — and murmur with envy, no doubt. They were already in the mood for scandal, as the duke had announced the change in brides before the ceremony began.
He kissed her until she stopped resisting and returned his kiss in full and then he laughed in her ear when she made a faint sound of distress as she looked out at the sea of faces watching them. Let another black mark rest on his reputation; what did it matter? He had a bride and soon would have an heir and control of his own destiny at last.
He pulled her to him and put an arm around her as he escorted her away from the chapel and into the open carriage that would carry them the few streets back to the duke's home and the magnificent feast that awaited them there.
She barely touched his hand when he helped her into the carriage, and sat stiffly apart from him. "Sorry?" he asked, when the horses were underway. "I thought I saw a distinct rabbit in the grip of a fox expression upon your face for a moment. Was it the word "obey"? For you needn't, you know. That was our bargain, after all."
Was she sorry? Helena sorted through the various emotions that roiled inside her. Worry for the future. A dreamlike sense of her life rushing past too fast for her to grasp hold of. Desire and fear to take what he offered and
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