Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Send them in,” Silas said without looking up.
Two days after Benedict’s visit, he wasn’t surprised when Jeeves announced the arrival of two visitors dressed in black habits. He’d been expecting this.
The door opened to reveal two nuns. One he recognized from his brief visit to St. Margaret’s. The other was new, older, sharp-eyed, and with a tight-lipped smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
“Sisters,” Silas said smoothly, rising to greet them with the civility of a man born to it. “What a… surprising pleasure.”
“We simply wished to follow up on your visit to the convent, Your Grace,” said the younger nun, Sister Philomena, if he recalled correctly. “You did not have the opportunity to meet our superior at the time.”
She gestured to the elder nun.
“Indeed,” Silas said, his eyes resting on the woman. “Sister Frances, I presume. A pleasure.”
Sister Frances inclined her head with a stiff nod. “Your Grace.”
“I apologize for my abrupt departure the other day. Urgent matters demanded my attention.” He opened a drawer and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. “You must be here for the donation. I had a promissory note prepared.”
Sister Frances reached for it quickly, but Silas held it just out of reach.
“Of course,” she said with a thin smile. “Very generous of you, Your Grace. But the donation is not our sole concern today.”
“No?” Silas glanced at his watch with mild disinterest. “Then by all means, do get to the point. I have limited time.”
Sister Frances’s smile didn’t falter. “We are looking for a certain young lady. She left our convent without permission.”
“Left?” Silas echoed, lifting a brow. “I was under the impression that convent life was voluntary.”
“In most cases,” Sister Philomena interjected hastily. “But some girls are placed with us by family, for their own good.”
“Ah.” Silas leaned back in his chair, hands folded loosely in front of him. “How charitable of you.”
Sister Frances’s mouth thinned. “This particular girl is… unstable. A danger to herself and others. We’re concerned for her wellbeing.”
“As am I,” Silas murmured. “In theory.”
There was a pause.
“Have you seen or heard of this young lady?” Sister Philomena asked, watching him closely.
Silas met her gaze with polite indifference. “I meet many young ladies, Sister. Should I be concerned that your convent is misplacing them?”
Sister Frances’s composure began to fray. “She escaped, not misplaced.”
“I see.” He smiled faintly. “I do hope you find her.”
The nuns exchanged a brief, silent glance.
Sister Frances cleared her throat, voice lowering slightly. “You have a young sister, do you not, Your Grace? I imagine you understand how… dangerous the world can be for girls of a certain age.”
Silas’s smile froze. A subtle shift in the room followed.
He rose, slowly, without raising his voice. “Indeed. I am very aware of the dangers.”
There was nothing overt in his tone, but the warning beneath it was unmistakable.
Sister Philomena took a step back, sensing it. Sister Frances stood her ground—barely.
“Well,” Silas said calmly, “you’ve had your audience. I suggest you return to your convent. Immediately.”
Sister Frances tried to recover her authority. “We serve God, Your Grace.”
“Then pray you continue to do so elsewhere,” Silas replied, his voice still even. “Because if you come near anyone under my care again, especially my sister, there will be consequences. Of that, you may be certain.”
Neither woman replied.
Silas gestured toward the door.
The footman appeared almost instantly, summoned by the unspoken command in the Duke’s posture.
“Please escort the sisters to their carriage,” Silas said. “Make sure they leave the grounds.”
The nuns said nothing as they were led away.
Silas sat back down with a sigh, shaking his head.
Moments later, there was a knock on the door and he straightened up.
“Yes?” he called out.
The door opened and his sister Amelia stuck her head in. “Is it safe?”
Silas nodded. “They’ve left.”
She stepped into the room, closely followed by Helena.
Silas gave a sigh of exasperation. “What are you doing here? What if they come back?”
“Are you saying they can traipse through your house without your permission?” Amelia said.
Silas narrowed his eyes at his sister. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“We saw them ride away through my window before we came down.” Amelia said.
Silas’s gaze shifted to Helena. She’d been very quiet during this exchange, and he was curious as to why. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but she kept her own eyes lowered and never said a word.
Amelia reached out and held her hand. “Helena will be all right, won’t she?” she asked anxiously.
“I said I would protect her, didn’t I?”
Amelia immediately relaxed. “You did.”
“I’ll protect you too. You do know that, don’t you?”
Amelia giggled. “Of course I do, silly. You’re my brother. You always take care of me.”
Silas nodded and tried to smile, though he was still seething from his conversation with the nuns.
How dare they threaten me? How dare they threaten my family? Clearly they don’t know who I really am. I will destroy them before I let them anywhere near either Amelia or Helena.
He did his best to hide his anger. “Lady Helena. You’re very quiet.” He said not looking at her.
She took a shuddering breath. “It was just so close. They were right here. Do you think they would have dragged me away if they caught sight of me?”
“No!” Amelia cried out, “No one is dragging you away, all right?”
Silas went around the desk. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.” He came to a stop at the side of the desk, watching Amelia place a reassuring hand on Helena’s arm.
Helena nodded at him and smiled at his sister softly.
Amelia gave her an intent look. “Believe my brother. He is a man of his word.”
Helena nodded mutely and tried to smile. “Amelia, would you let me talk with your brother privately?” she said.
Silas frowned. Something told him that he was not going to like whatever it was Helena wanted to tell him.
“Of course. I shall await you in my chambers.” Amelia squeezed Helena’s hand before leaving the room.
Silas gave Helena an expectant look. “I am listening.”
Helena collapsed into the chair, wringing her hands. “I can leave if you want me to. I would completely understand not wanting to put your sister in danger.”
Silas blinked at her in surprise, His entire body rebelled at the notion. “What are you talking about?”
Helena’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “They will never stop looking for me. Sooner or later, they will realize that I am here. Somebody will tell them, or they’ll find out some other way…I cannot hide forever.”
“You will not need to hide forever. Not when I’m gathering enough evidence to convict your uncle.”
She shot to her feet. “Please, you cannot do that. Not when Charlie is still under his roof.”
“Your brother will be fine. I have already sent a few of my men to watch him. If anything untoward occurs, they’ll be close enough to stop it before it begins.”
“You cannot know that. My uncle and my mother are very devious people. They carried on an affair right under my father’s nose. I doubt that he knew it—and you say he was a spy!”
“Indeed, we have no evidence about what he knew or what he didn’t know.” He stepped closer to her, “What I know, though, is that, at the moment, you are in more danger than your brother. Let us deal with that first.”
He could see her trembling and his hands itched to pull her closer, to soothe her.
“Nobody is going to die on my watch,” he promised her.
“Only God can make such promises,” she frowned.
He huffed in amusement. “In any case, as my sister so aptly pointed out, I am a man of my word. And I give you my word that your brother will be safe.”
She looked into his eyes, her gaze intent. “It is not that I do not believe you, Your Grace…”
“You’re afraid.” His voice was quiet, deliberate. “I can see it.” He gave a slight nod. “Because I’ve felt it too. They threatened my sister. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. Nothing.” His eyes met hers, “So believe me when I say I understand.”
She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she relaxed, and nodded. “I will hold you to it, Your Grace.”
Silas’s jaw flexed. Something in her voice, so fragile and fierce at once, cut straight through the armor he wore like a second skin.
He didn’t move at first. He only watched her. The delicate line of her throat. The way her fingers trembled slightly. The vulnerability in her eyes, like she was waiting to be shattered.
He could not stand it.
“I’ll protect you, Helena,” he assured. “You’re safe here. With me.”
He stepped forward, deliberate as ever, though something in him had already unraveled. He reached up and brushed a single raven lock of hair from her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek.
She didn’t flinch. “Silas, I…” she muttered.
Her voice washed over him like the first ray of sunlight after a stormy night. “Say it again,” he breathed.
“Silas,” she repeated, this time slower.
“Helena,” he looked deeply into her eyes, “you’re safe.”
She only nodded, her lips parting.
He bent his head. Slowly.
But she tilted her face to meet him. No hesitation.
And then, God help him, he kissed her.
It began as a breath, a suggestion. The lightest brush of his lips to hers.
He meant to hold back. To taste, and retreat. But the moment her mouth responded to his, softly and tentatively, he lost all reason.
The kiss deepened like a drop into water, both inevitable and unstoppable. His hand cupped her jaw, the pad of his thumb skimming her cheek as her lips parted beneath his.
She made a small, aching sound, and his body responded instantly, heat flooding his veins.
He groaned, the sound escaping before he could swallow it.
Every inch of him burned. He pulled her closer, drawn like a man who’d gone too long in the cold, now offered fire. Her hands fisted in his coat. Her body pressed against his, a perfect, maddening fit.
It should have been too much.
No; it wasn’t enough.
His mouth moved over hers with quiet ferocity, slowly, like a promise wrapped in hunger. She tasted like fear and hope, like defiance wrapped in silk. He devoured it all, branding her with every stroke of his lips, every breath they shared.
A knock sounded at the door.
Silas tore himself away from her, breath heaving. He clenched his jaw, willing his body to calm from the wild need that had overtaken him.
Closing his eyes, he counted to three, then five, commanding composure.
He heard the rustle of Helena’s gown as she turned toward the door.
When he opened his eyes, Amelia was peeking in, her eyes wide with concern.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between the two of them.
“Everything is fine,” he replied, gratified that his voice didn’t betray the chaos boiling beneath his skin.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. She studied Helena, then flicked a suspicious glance his way. After a pause, she let it go.
“Helena, could you come and help me with something?” she asked gently.
“Of course.” Helena took Amelia’s arm, guiding her from the room without so much as a glance back.
Silas sank into the chair she’d just left, exhaling sharply. His heart was still pounding, every nerve on fire. He pressed his palms to his thighs, trying to ground himself.
He had kissed her.
He had wanted to kiss her for longer than he cared to admit, but now that he had, he felt utterly unmoored.
That moan. God help him, it echoed in his ears. His body still thrummed with want, with heat, with the frustrated ache of unfinished desire.
He was no better than a schoolboy, undone by a single kiss.
He stood abruptly. A walk. He needed cold air and distance.
Moving quickly through the corridor, he was thankful for the lack of questions as he grabbed his overcoat and stepped outside. The wind cut across his skin like a blade, promising rain.
No use walking in this.
He veered toward the stables.
“A ride will work just as well,” he muttered under his breath.
“Beg pardon, Your Grace?” asked the groom, tipping his cap.
“Nothing, John. Carry on.”
He swung onto the horse, boots snapping against the stirrups, and took off at a gallop.
The wind lashed his face. The sky opened. A shower fell in sheets as he reached the end of the lane, but he didn’t stop. He needed space. Movement. Sanity.
He wasn’t ready to go back. Not yet.
Benedict’s cottage isn’t far.
He turned the reins and aimed for his friend’s estate.
He needed distraction. Or at the very least, someone to remind him what the hell he was doing.
Because right now, all he could think about was her.