Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Come in,” Silas called and looked up when there was a knock at the door.
The door opened and Lady Helena stepped into the room.
His eyebrows rose in surprise at her changed looks. Her long black hair, now brushed through and shining like a midnight sky, was tied in a complicated knot atop her head.
She wore a simple sky-blue muslin gown that cascaded airily from her shoulders to her feet. A yellow lace ribbon was tied just below her bosom. Heavens, he could not ignore how shapely she was.
She stared up at him, face still pale but free of dirt, her eyes like pools luring him into their dark depths.
Something within him stirred. Something dark, deep in his stomach, lighting his skin on fire.
He cleared this throat, casting the sensation aside, “You look well,” he said.
The understatement of the year.
She gave him a quick curtsy, and a small smile. “Thank you, Your Grace. I feel better. It’s amazing what a simple bath can do.”
He gulped, using every ounce of strength in him to push away the image of her naked in a bathtub.
“Indeed,” he said. “Can I interest you in some tea, perhaps?”
“Yes, please. I missed breakfast.”
“Well, we must amend that.”
She raised her eyebrows, ready to ask a question, but was cut off by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Silas called.
As if on cue, the butler entered and stood aside to let a procession of maids, carrying trays, enter the room. In addition to a kettle of tea, plates of scrambled eggs, kippers, fried tomatoes, freshly baked bread, jam, sticks of butter, honey and honey cakes filled the silver trays.
Helena stared at it all, jaw dropped. She licked her lips, watching hungrily as the maid poured her tea.
Silas studied her, unable to peel his eyes away from her rosy lips.
For goodness’s sake, focus, man.
He pushed away the thought, dropping his eyes to the food.
A maid picked up a plate, and paused, looking at Helena. “What would you like me to serve you, my lady?” she asked softly.
Helena stared at all the food. “Well, I think I’ll have a bit of everything.”
The maid smiled and began to fill her plate as Silas struggled not to think about other appetites that might be satisfied. He did not understand his reaction to Helena. He had never had a preference for lost-looking waifs.
Nothing but problems can result from this train of thought.
He took a deep breath, picked up his own cup of tea and took a sip of the hot liquid.
She mimicked him, and drank from her own cup. Her fingers around the cup were long and delicate looking. He did not know why he found everything about her attractive.
He cleared his throat as the servants cleared out. “So, you’ve had some time to think, I presume. Are you ready to tell me what happened to your father?”
She sipped her tea and said nothing.
He inclined his head to the side, considering her keenly. “Surely, you do not mean to protect his murderers, do you?”
She looked up at him sharply, daggers in her eyes. Yet she still did not say a word.
He huffed with irritation. “What will it take for you to understand what is at stake?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I am not the one who does not understand what is at stake.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head slowly. “You can’t help me. Nobody can help me.”
“Why not?” He put his teacup down slowly folding his fingers together as he considered her closely. “What makes you think that you are so beyond help that a powerful man such as myself can do nothing for you?”
Her lips twisted. “You may be powerful, but you are not God. You have no power over life and death.”
He straightened up alertly. “So, this is a matter of life and death. Your life has been threatened, and you are afraid.” He said the words are loud as he was thinking them, to see how she would react.
She shook her head, almost turning down. “If it was just a matter of my life, I would have told you what you wanted to know and trusted that you might find justice for my father.”
Not her life then. Someone else’s, he realized, and the puzzle pieces fell into place.
He softened his words in understanding. “Ah, I see. It is about your brother Charles, isn’t it?”
She gave him a sharp look, before her gaze slid away and she stared out of the window.
“You’re not the only one protecting your sibling.”
He nodded slowly. “Indeed.”
They sat in silence for a while as Silas sipped his tea and tried to think of a way past this barrier.
He could sympathize with Lady Helena’s wish to protect her brother, but there were bigger matters at hand here.
Matters of national security. He could not let his sympathy sway him from his stated path.
“What will it take for you to tell me what I want to know?” He asked.
She shook her head. “I cannot tell you,” she said emphatically.
He blew the breath out of his nose in annoyance. “This matter is much bigger than you think, my lady. You must work with me. Otherwise, I might be forced to look at you as an accessory to Lord Downfield’s murder.”
She gasped, her face paling even more. Then she clenched her teeth, eyes sparking with anger.
“At the end of the day, you do not want to help me. You simply want to help yourself.”
He clenched his fists. “Your father was an agent of the crown. He was murdered amid a larger plot, the details of which I cannot divulge. Solving his murder is a crucial step in my investigations. Do you think this is about me being selfish? I have a job to do, just like your father did. If that means going through you, I will do what I must.”
Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him disbelievingly. “My father was… an agent of the crown? What does that mean?”
“He was a spy,” Silas said boldly in an effort to shock her into telling the truth.
“A spy? My father?” She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
He nodded emphatically. “Yes. The late Earl of Downfield worked for the crown for many years.”
He could see the disbelief in her eyes, the way she was trying to reconcile the father she knew with the one he was telling her about.
He felt a certain amount of sympathy for her plight. This could not have been easy for her. If there was something he could have done to protect her, he would have.
And he was taken aback by how much he wished he had protected her.
Helena did not know what to believe. That her father was a spy seemed such a fantastic thing, completely out of the realm of possibility.
She had read books about spies where dashing gentlemen were here today and gone tomorrow, mysterious and cunning.
That was not her father. His eyes had been kind, and he had always had time for Helena and Charlie.
“They said my father died of an illness,” she murmured. “A sudden fever that came from nowhere and took him very quickly. I thought the same myself until I overheard my uncle and my mother talking.”
“What did they say?” Silas asked in his gentle baritone.
“They were talking about my father’s death. My mother said it was too obvious, that someone would suspect something. My uncle replied that they’d had no choice but to do what they did.”
“I see. Then what happened?”
“Well…I was younger back then. Around your sister’s age.
So, I confronted them about it. I accused them of being murderers.
Perhaps I raised my voice a bit. The next thing I knew, I was accused of being hysterical.
My mother told me they had to put me in the convent for my own good. Just until my nerves were better.”
“What else do you know?”
She hesitated once. “They were having an affair. I don’t know how long it had been going on.”
The Duke rolled his eyes. “How trite. Anything else?”
Helena pursed her lips. She wasn’t sure she should say anything about her uncle’s threats. If she spoke them aloud, the Duke might confront him with that information. If he did, Charlie was in danger.
The Duke did not care about Charlie.
She shook her head. “I don’t know anything else.”
“Have they ever met with other people at Downfield Manor? Unsavory types?”
Helena lowered her head and shook it.
“Did you overhear any other conversations?”
She shook her head. “No, I have told you all I know, Your Grace.”
He sighed. “Very well, then. If that is all you’re willing to tell me, that is fine. Once you’re done with breakfast, my coach driver can take you wherever you like.”
She blinked in surprise and then stared at him, stupefied. “I beg your pardon?”
He crossed his legs and favored her with a challenging look. “You heard me.”
“You would just… throw me away like that? What happened to protecting me?”
“I promised that I would not harm you; I have not. And I promised that I would protect you in my house. I never said forever.”
Helena’s breath came short. A slow, hot rage curled in her chest. “You really are heartless,” she whispered.
Silas remained unmoved. “Sentiment does not change facts.”
She clenched her fists. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? By taking me from St. Margaret’s, you’ve made me a target.” Her voice rose. “My uncle will send men after me. He cannot allow me to speak. He will kill me before he lets that happen. My mother will ensure my silence. And my brother—”
Her throat closed, but she forced the words out.
“I am not safe anywhere. You think throwing me into the streets solves your problem? It only paints a target on my back.”
Silas didn’t even blink. “I can pay to place you at an inn, but beyond that, I have other responsibilities.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “You—”
The door flew open.
“Absolutely not.” Amelia stormed into the room, her small frame radiating outrage. “You are not throwing her out.”
Silas growled. “Amelia. Get out.”
She ignored him completely and strode toward Helena, standing firmly at her side. “You can’t send her away, Silas. She has nowhere to go.”
“That is none of your concern,” he said coldly.
She threw up her hands. “Of course it is! You cannot just pluck a woman from a convent, bring her here, and then discard her like an unwanted pet.” Amelia turned, glaring at him.
Silas’s eyes darkened, his patience snapping. “I am not discarding her. I am offering to place her elsewhere, where she can find her own way.” His voice was steel, a sharp warning that would send most people retreating.
Amelia swallowed but held her ground. “She is a woman, alone. You cannot just drop her off somewhere and expect she figures it out on her own! No, I am not leaving until you agree that she stays.”
His fingers curled against the desk. “This is not your decision to make, young lady.”
Tears burned in Amelia’s eyes, but she lifted her chin. “No, it isn’t. But you cannot claim to be a man of honor and then leave a helpless woman to the whims of fate! The brother I know would never do such a thing.”
“You do not know what is at stake here, Amelia.”
“Yes, I do. It is your honor, and the respect I hold for you, brother,” Amelia stepped forward, and for a moment, as she stared at the Duke fiercely, Helena could swear the adolescent had transformed into an adult woman.
Silas’s nostrils flared. Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.
Then, finally—
“Fine.” His voice was a low growl. “She stays.”
Amelia gasped. “Really?”
Before he could stop her, Amelia threw her arms around him.
The Duke froze. He did not return the embrace, his entire frame rigid, as if he had been struck.
“Thank you,” Helena murmured.
He gave her a sharp look. “Do not thank me yet.” His voice was as cold as ever.
He straightened, smoothing his cuff with precision.
“You stay only until I learn more about your uncle and your mother. Then I shall be able to determine what can be done for you.” His gaze flicked to Amelia.
“Now both of you, leave me. I have work to do.”
Amelia grabbed Helena’s hand, practically dragging her out of the study, a triumphant bounce in her step.
As the door closed behind them, Helena cast one last glance back.
The Duke had already turned away, his face unreadable as he poured himself a drink.
But his shoulders were stiff.
And she had the distinct sense that, for all his coldness, she had unsettled him.