Chapter 20 #2
Alexander smirked, his hazel eyes alight with amusement. “Are ye sayin’ I wasnae handsome before?”
Helena rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “Ye ken that’s nae what I meant. Ye’ll have to forgive me for carin’.”
“I’ll consider it,” he replied, his tone teasing.
Before Helena could respond, a knock interrupted their moment. The door opened, and Michael stepped inside, a stack of ledgers and letters tucked under one arm. He gave a respectful nod to both Helena and Alexander.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, his voice gruff but warm. “I hope I’m nae interruptin’.”
“Nae at all,” Helena said, rising gracefully. “Ye’re here on business, I presume?”
Michael held up the ledgers with a faint smile. “Indeed. There’s much to discuss.”
Helena turned to Alexander, who was already looking at her with a faintly regretful expression. “I’ll leave ye to it, then,” she said, smoothing her skirts. “I’ll be back later with lunch and to change yer bandages.”
As she moved toward the door, Alexander reached out and took her hand. The gesture startled her, his fingers warm and firm around hers.
“Dinnae be gone too long,” he demanded, his voice low and earnest.
Helena felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks, and she nodded. “I willnae,” she reassured.
She made her way downstairs, her steps light as she moved through the halls. In the main corridor, she spotted Alice standing with a small group of servants, discussing the day’s tasks. She approached, smiling at the scene.
“Alice,” she greeted warmly. “Ye’ve been a tremendous help.”
Alice turned, her face lighting up at the sight of Helena. “And ye’ve been a tremendous influence,” she replied, her tone teasing. “Though I should be thankin’ ye. Ye’ve nae only cared for Alexander but also Felicia, and it hasnae gone unnoticed.”
Helena blinked, caught off guard by the praise. “I’ve done what anyone would do.”
Alice arched an eyebrow. “Nae everyone would have yer patience. Felicia has grown to like ye, finally.”
Relief and amusement washed over Helena. “She has? I’m glad to hear that.”
“She’s in the garden, in case ye’re wonderin’,” Alice added, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Somethin’ about sketchin’ flowers. Charcoal and paper in hand.”
Helena’s curiosity was piqued instantly. “Sketchin’?” she repeated. “I thought I saw her sketchin’ before…”
“She’s nae half bad,” Alice replied. “Go see for yerself.”
The castle gardens were a burst of color and life, even in the crisp morning air. Beds of purple lilac, vibrant roses, and delicate daisies stretched out beneath the open sky, their fragrance mingling with the earthy scent of freshly turned soil.
Helena’s gaze swept over the scene until she spotted Felicia sitting on a small wooden bench, her head bowed over a piece of paper.
As she approached, she saw the girl staring intently at a cluster of lilacs, her charcoal moving slowly over the page. There was a seriousness to her expression, her usually guarded demeanor replaced by quiet concentration.
“May I join ye?” Helena asked softly, not wanting to startle her.
Felicia glanced up, her eyes wide for a moment before she nodded. “If ye’d like,” she said, scooting over.
She handed Helena a spare piece of paper and a stick of charcoal without hesitation.
Helena settled beside her, the cool wood of the bench grounding her as she focused on the flowers. She let the world fall away, her hand moving across the page with practiced ease. Drawing had always been a solace for her, a way to lose herself in the beauty of the world around her.
The two women worked in companionable silence, the only sounds the rustle of the wind and the faint scratch of charcoal against paper. Occasionally, Helena would glance at Felicia’s drawing, impressed by the care and detail the girl put into her work.
“Ye have a good eye,” she observed after a while.
Felicia looked up, surprised by the compliment. “Thank ye,” she said quietly. “I used to draw with me maither when I was little. She loved flowers.”
Helena smiled, her own memories of sketching with her brother flashing through her mind. “It’s a lovely skill to have. I find it calming.”
Felicia nodded, her expression softening. “Me too.”
The silence stretched again, but it was a warm, comfortable one. Helena felt a sense of peace sitting there, sharing this quiet moment with Felicia. When they finally finished their sketches, they held them up to compare them.
Felicia’s drawing was delicate and precise, capturing the lilacs’ intricate details. Helena’s drawing, by contrast, was bold and fluid, the lines sweeping across the page confidently.
“Ye’re really good,” Felicia said, her tone almost envious.
Helena laughed—a light, joyful sound. “So are ye. We make quite the pair, do we nae?”
Felicia’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “Maybe.”
Before they could say more, a servant approached, bowing slightly as he addressed Helena. “Me Lady, ye have a visitor.”
Helena looked up, her brow furrowing. “A visitor? Who is it?”
The servant hesitated, his expression wary. “It’s yer faither, Me Lady.”
Helena’s breath caught, her body tensing instinctively. She stood up slowly, her mind racing.
Why would her father come here now? What could he possibly want?
“Thank ye,” she said, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil. “I’ll go to him shortly.”
The servant nodded and retreated, leaving her standing in the garden with her churning thoughts. She turned to Felicia, her smile strained. “Stay here and keep drawin’. I’ll be back later.”
Felicia nodded, sensing the shift in Helena’s mood but saying nothing.
Helena hurried back into the castle, her heart pounding. She knew she couldn’t face her father alone, not without Alexander’s counsel. She bolted up the stairs, her skirts swishing around her as she reached their chamber.
Bursting through the door, she found Alexander sitting at the table. His eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of her pale face and tense posture.
“Helena,” he said, his voice sharp with concern. “What’s wrong?”
She stopped in the center of the room, her hands clenched at her sides. “It’s me faither,” she uttered, her voice trembling slightly. “He’s here.”
Alexander’s expression darkened, a storm brewing in his hazel eyes. “What does he want?”
“I dinnae ken,” Helena replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I think we’re about to find out.”