Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“Iknew you’d never throw Helena out. That is not the man I know and love.”
It wasn’t long until Amelia rejoined him in the study. He sat, legs crossed, on the brown leather Chesterfield and gave her a look that demanded explanation for her behavior.
Silas barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “Do not try to manipulate me, girl.”
“I am not. Surely you didn’t mean it?” She furrowed her brow in concern.
Silas looked at his sister and found that he could not bring himself to say that he had actually meant to let Helena go. He had been frustrated with her lack of answers. Perhaps he had gotten a little too impatient, he could concede that. But he didn’t want his sister to think he had no heart.
He sighed deeply. “What have you done with her?”
“I settled her in the guest chambers, near my own quarters. She looked exhausted down to her soul, Silas. Whatever you’re working on, you can do it just as well if she’s staying here. Perhaps she’ll learn to trust you and tell you what you need to know from her.”
Silas huffed. “When did you start listening at keyholes, young miss?”
She gave him a bashful smile. “When the wisdom of self-reliance became painfully clear.”
“Wisdom?” Silas half-scoffed, half-chuckled. “You are too inquisitive for your own good.”
Amelia just smiled at him. “I wonder where I got it from.”
Silas noted putting down his glass of whiskey. “Very well then. But she is your responsibility.”
Amelia beamed, jumping a little as she clapped. “Oh, thank you, thank you, brother! You will not regret it. My first order of business: I need to get her some clothes.”
“I am afraid any shopping trips are prohibited, sister. There are people who might be looking for her.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who is looking for her?”
Silas glared at her, “I am warning you, Amelia: this is where you draw the line of your inquisitiveness. No more questions.”
She folded her arms over her chest, “All right. No more questions.” She lowered her voice to a mumble. “For now.”
“Amelia,” Silas growled with a warning.
“All right, all right!” She threw her hands up in mock innocence. “I shall be off now. I’ll speak with one of our maids, see if we can modify some of Mother’s old clothes.”
“Good. Do you need anything else of me?” he asked.
“No, we’ll see each other at dinner. Wear something nice!” Amelia called from over her shoulder as she exited the study in a flurry.
Silas sat back in his chair and his mind wandered back to Helena. The curve of her body haunted him, the fullness of her breasts that pressed against the fabric of her dress as if begging for his touch.
He imagined the feel of her pressed against him, her body beneath his, her soft, full breasts pressed to his chest as he pinned her in place.
The thought made his cock stir uncomfortably in his breeches. He closed his eyes, vision of her scars flashing in his mind—proof of the brutality she’d endured—and it only made him want her more, to possess her completely, to wipe away every trace of pain with his own touch, his control.
But no. He crushed the thoughts, his jaw clenching as he straightened.
She is a complication, he reminded himself. She’s not to be touched.
The beast in him growled at the restriction, but Silas forced himself to look away, to ignore the way his body ached with the need to claim her.
“There are far more important matters at hand,” he muttered under his breath.
But even as he stood, his hands clenched at his sides, the temptation lingered, and his pulse remained erratic.
Helena was woken by a knock on the door.
“Come in.” She sat up, expecting that it would be Amelia.
Instead, a procession of maids carrying hot water flooded into the room. They all rushed to the bathtub behind the screen before proceeding to stock up the fire in the fireplace. One of the maids laid a gown on her bed, while another arranged brushes and combs on the vanity.
Helena hardly knew what to do with it all. It had been a long five years since she was treated in such a manner and even in her own home, her ablutions had never been this lavish.
“Good morning, Lady Helena,” one of the maids said, “I am Marian and I shall be your lady’s maid for as long as you’re here. Are you ready for your bath?”
Helena nodded mutely.
Being primped and pampered was not something she was used to, and so she enjoyed it thoroughly. Once she was dressed, Marian escorted her down to the dining hall for breakfast. She tensed when she caught sight of Silas sitting at the head of the table.
“Lady Helena, there you are!” a voice said excitedly. She noticed Amelia sitting to the right of her brother.
Helena smiled, and began to walk towards Amelia.
“You can sit on my left.” Silas said and she abruptly changed direction, her skin heating.
She sat down slowly, an awkward smile on her face.
“Did you sleep well?” Amelia asked with bright eyes.
Helena nodded, “Yes. I haven’t slept in such a soft bed for a long time.”
Amelia gave her a sympathetic look. “Was it very hard at the convent? Did they work you like slaves?”
“Amelia!” Silas chided, giving her a quelling look.
Amelia simply smiled and shrugged.
“I do not mind the questions about the convent,” Helena said quietly.
She turned to Amelia. “They didn’t work us quite that hard, but the abbey didn’t have as many fireplaces as you have here.
It was very cold most of the time. And our mattresses were made of straw.
We only had a thin blanket to cover us, so it was quite cold. ”
Amelia’s mouth turned down. “That sounds just awful. I am so very sorry that you had to endure that.”
Helena shrugged. “One gets used to it.”
The duke’s gaze swept over them, his expression unchanged. “Amelia,” he said, his voice cold and firm, “this is neither the time nor the place for such an emotional display.”
Amelia stiffened, but she didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, Silas, but it’s—”
He cut her off with a sharp glance, his voice dropping an octave. “We are at dinner, not in some drawing room for private confessions. If you cannot control yourself, you’ll excuse us.”
Amelia’s eyes flashed, but she pressed her lips together, the sharp retort dying on her tongue. Silas, seemingly unaware of the tension, turned back to Helena, his posture unwavering.
“I’m sure we can discuss something more fitting for the occasion, don’t you think?” he added, as if he had never spoken a word to Amelia.
“Your Grace,” Helena interjected softly, her voice firm despite the tension that pulsed in the room. “She is only trying to help. There is no need to be so harsh.”
Amelia’s gaze flicked to Helena, a flicker of gratitude flashing in her eyes. Silas turned his steely gaze on Helena, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked at her with quiet intensity.
“Perhaps you do not understand the importance of maintaining control,” Silas said, his voice icy. “My sister is not in charge here, and I do not need a lecture from someone I barely know.”
Helena stood her ground, her posture defiant. “Control is fine, but there is a difference between leading and crushing the spirit of those around you. She is just a girl, Your Grace.”
His gaze darkened, and for a moment, the air between them seemed charged with something more than words.
He lowered his voice, the growl in it unmistakable. “And you think you know me well enough to teach me how to handle my sister?”
Helena met his gaze, unflinching. “You are not as adept at hiding it as you think, Your Grace.”
Silas raised a brow, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. “Hiding what, precisely?”
“Your fear,” Helena replied with an edge to her voice. “You push others away with such practiced ease. Almost as if you’re afraid they’ll see the man you really are.”
His jaw tightened, but he masked it quickly with a smooth smile. “And what do you suppose that man might be?”
Helena’s eyes glinted, her tone softening just enough to be dangerous. “Someone too terrified to lose control. You govern your every action as though your life depends on it, as if letting someone else in would shatter that control.”
Silas’s expression darkened, but he remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating her words.
Then, with a trace of amusement, he replied, “And you believe you have me figured out already? After so little time in my company?”
Helena’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “It is not difficult to see the truth when it’s so plainly on display, even when you do your best to disguise it.”
The tension between them crackled in the air, thick with unsaid things, and for a heartbeat, it seemed as though the conversation might spiral further into something neither would want.
Before Silas could speak, Amelia, who had been quietly observing, seized the moment.
“Helena,” she interjected with a bright, though slightly strained smile, “why don’t we take a walk in the garden? The air will do us both some good, I’m sure.”
Helena, sensing the subtle relief in the interruption, inclined her head. “A walk sounds quite agreeable.”
What is the matter with me?
Silas was perfectly aware that he was being unnecessarily churlish but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He was usually in better control of his emotions, so he was slightly disconcerted that she was able to move him enough for him to behave impulsively. Perhaps that was another reason why he wanted her as far away from him as possible.
He picked up his coffee cup and retreated to his office. He had a lot of work to do, with or without Helena’s testimony.
He walked in to find that his secretary had arrived and was industriously copying figures into the estate ledgers.
“Good morning, Saunders,” he said as he headed for his own desk. “And how was your trip to the Cotswolds?”
Saunders looked up with a distracted air. “Very well, Your Grace.” He held up the paper that he was copying from. “I was able to get all the information that we needed. You’ll be able to sell the mine with no issues should you choose to.”