Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“Well, well, well, this is a surprise. No advance note? Just showing up at my door? How rude, Highcliff.” Benedict grinned at him.
In a quarter of an hour, Silas was at Benedict’s gate, his woolen overcoat and hat having kept him relatively dry.
He swung off his horse at the door to Benedict’s cottage.
It actually belonged to one of his mistresses, Benedict’s seat being at Richmont, but he used it frequently when he was in the district for work or just to visit.
Silas smirked as he tied his horse nearby. “My apologies.”
“I am only teasing. You’re always welcome here. Come! Unless you wish the rain to wash you clean of your sins.”
Silas snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. That would require at least three thunderstorms.”
“Oho!” Benedict laughed, clapping him on the back as he led him into the cottage. “The man has some wit.”
“More than you, at least.”
Benedict gasped, grasping his chest as if fatally hurt. “You wound me!”
Silas took off his coat and hat, setting them aside on a nearby armchair as he smiled at Richmont’s antics. Being in Benedict’s company made him feel lighter and less as if the pressures of the world were carried upon his shoulders. His friend had always had that effect.
He followed Benedict into the den, unsurprised to find that his mistress was absent.
“How is Cassandra?” he asked.
“Off to her mother’s. I thought it best, what with this nonsense about Downfield hanging over our heads. It’s safer for her there.”
“And you can conduct your espionage without her looking over your shoulder.” Silas added.
Benedict sighed. “Yes, this widow is rather nosy, and I prefer to spread my papers about when I’m working.”
Silas nodded. “Better this way.”
“Well then.” Benedict settled comfortably in his armchair, crossing his legs in an elegant manner, “I assume you are not here for my scintillating company.”
“I actually did come for your scintillating company. I could use a second opinion. Preferably one that comes with whisky.”
Benedict arched an eyebrow. “Oh? That is a first. I’ll do my best then. Besides the whisky, I’ll ring for a warm meal too. It’d do nicely, I think. We wouldn’t want you to catch your death.”
Silas nodded. “Thank you.”
Benedict rang the bell and Thompson, one of Benedict’s staff, a trusted member and most discreet, appeared at once, with a tray laden with food and drink. A bottle of fine whisky, a leg of cured ham, warm fresh bread, fried tomatoes, and pigeon pie.
Silas quirked an eyebrow. “That was fast.”
Benedict smiled. “Thompson is always prepared.”
The butler put the tray down between them, serving them each a glass of whisky, much to Silas’s appreciation, before fixing them each a plate.
Silas tucked into the simple yet delicious fare. He realized that it had been a while since he truly felt hungry, but he certainly did now.
Benedict let him eat in peace.
Once he was done, he sat back on the comfortable, pillow filled sofa with his cup of tea.
“So, about that second opinion…” Benedict’s voice trailed off.
“You were right about the nuns coming to see me. Here’s what happened.”
Benedict raised an eyebrow, and Silas took a slow breath as he recounted the details of the nuns’ visit, trying to keep his voice steady despite the undercurrent of irritation within him.
“It’s maddening how they kept Lady Helena in such a state, dangling that threat over her head,” Silas growled at the end. “It’s nothing short of outrageous.”
“Indeed.” Benedict smiled. “I see you are quite aroused by this woman.”
Silas narrowed his eyes at him. “Now is not the time for one of your double entendres, Benedict.”
“And why shouldn’t I? I believe that all situations practically beg for an entendre. And most notably, those involving my brooding friend and a most distracting lady under his roof.”
“Of course,” Benedict said, leaning slightly forward. “What do we do about these nuns, and the powerful figures backing them?”
“That is the question,” Silas replied. “First, we must identify them.”
“Indeed,” Benedict agreed. “Once we know who they are, perhaps Parliament can be persuaded to act.”
Silas inclined his head. “A sound plan. And where do we begin?”
“James Porter,” Benedict said, matter-of-factly.
Silas’s lips pressed into a thin line before he finally nodded. “You read my mind.”
Dinner was an awkward affair. Helena could hardly stand to look Amelia in the eye. She was still reeling from what had happened in Silas’s study. She could hardly believe it had happened.
What was I thinking?
“Helena?”
She looked up at her companion, an eyebrow raised.
“What were you and my brother doing when I came to find you earlier?”
Helena could feel her cheeks heating up. She dipped her head, pretending to be absorbed in her meal.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she mumbled.
“In the study. When I came to look for you. You were standing close together and looking a bit…windswept.”
“Windswept?” Helena accidentally met Amelia’s eyes in her surprise.
“Yes…” Amelia waved her hand over her head as if to demonstrate.
“It was nothing. We were merely talking.”
“Talking?” Amelia said skeptically. “That didn’t look like talking.” She grinned mischievously. “It looked like you had been kissing.”
Helena blushed bright red. “And how would you know that?”
Amelia scoffed. “I have seen people kiss before, you know. One of the milkmaids does it quite a lot with the groom. They think they are hidden at the back of the stables, but I can see them from my chambers.”
Helena hardly knew what to make of that.
“Yes, well, don’t go telling people about it. I’m sure your brother would be very upset,” she warned the teenager gently, hoping this would distract her.
Amelia spread her hands out. “Who would I tell? The only other women I can speak to freely here the female staff. And all of them would instantly tell Silas if I said anything they found inappropriate. Before you came, I really had nobody to speak to,” she said earnestly, touching Helena’s knee.
“I am so glad you’re here now. I do hope you stay. ”
Helena gave a sad smile, thinking of her brother.
Who does Charlie have to speak to?
She would gladly have returned Amelia’s sentiments, were it not for Charlie. She couldn’t trust anyone to have his best interests at heart. She had to look out for him.
“Helena?” Amelia said in a tentative tone, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just…you’re so easy to talk to.”
Helena reached for her hands, squeezing them gently and looking her in the eyes. “Of course you didn’t make me uncomfortable, dear. I was just thinking about…my own family.”
Amelia’s eyes widened with interest. “Oh? What of them? I don’t know much about families myself. It’s always been Silas and me.”
Helena frowned, wanting to ask about their parents, but not wanting to bring up a difficult subject for Amelia.
“I know what you want to ask,” Amelia offered, her eyes sparkling with cleverness. “My parents died in a carriage accident when I was very young. I don’t remember them, like I told you, and Silas doesn’t talk about them much. Even when I ask. Is it very different growing up with parents?”
Helena felt her eyes prick with tears. She hardly knew how to answer Amelia.
What could she possibly say, especially when her relationship with her own mother was complicated, to say the least?
But with her father…
Yes, having a parent is different. Most of the time you feel protected and loved especially when they envelop you in their arms and hold you close to their hearts.
But then they can also turn their backs on you and neglect you and throw you away, and there’s no deeper pain than when a parent does that to you.
Well, they can die, and leave you alone to face this world and all its cruelties.
Instead of admitting all that, she gave Amelia a pained smile. “I should like to think that to be loved is to be loved, whether it is by a parent or a sibling. I know I love my brother dearly, and that he loves me in return. I’m certain your brother feels the same about you.”
Amelia dropped her head, fiddling with her fork. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just a nuisance to him. That he would rather I left him alone.”
“Oh darling,” Helena said, pulling Amelia closer, “I’m sure he doesn’t feel like that. You are his only family. His only blood. I do not think he could ever wish you gone.”
“So how is it that I have felt more affection from you in the time you’ve been here, than in all the years with my brother?”
Helena’s heart broke. She really had no answer for Amelia. It was something she needed to talk to Silas about.
She sighed. “I wish I could stay with you always, Amelia. But I cannot. Much as I care, I will need to go soon. My family needs me. You do understand that, don’t you?”
Amelia nodded shakily before slowly getting to her feet. “I’m sorry, I must attend to my studies. I’ll see you later,” she mumbled as she took off running.
Helena watched her go with an internal sigh. She knew she had hurt the girl’s feelings, but she did not regret telling her the truth.
It was always better in the long run.
A day later, Silas was annoyed to find that Helena had not gotten any less attractive overnight.
She sat at his dining table, looking soft and sleepy in the early morning light, yellow muslin dress bringing out the freckles on her shoulders.
“Have you been out in the sun without an umbrella?” he blurted before he could think about it.
She turned to face him sharply, her eyes widening in surprise. “I…” she said helplessly.
“Why is it wrong if she’s gone out without an umbrella?” Amelia piped in, glaring at him.
Silas stared at her, nonplused. It was rare for Amelia to speak to him so angrily.
He frowned. “Well, I suppose she would like to participate in the marriage mart one day. Having freckles would be a disadvantage.”
Amelia’s eyes just narrowed further. “‘And what is it to you? Are you her guardian? Or perhaps you mean to compete for her hand?”
The furrow in Silas’s brow deepened. “Why are you speaking to me like that?”
Amelia shrugged, affecting nonchalance, “Somebody has to.”
Helena cleared her throat loudly. “As a matter of fact, I have been using an umbrella while outside. And I don’t think I will be participating in the marriage mart any time soon, as I am beyond the eligible age.”
Both Silas and Amelia stared at her in surprise as she looked from one to the other demurely.
“So, you can stop arguing about it,” she said with unmistakable finality.
Silas almost smiled. He could not say that he was disappointed to hear that she had no intention of looking for a husband, for reasons he did not want to examine too closely.
His eyes dropped to her lips, a little full and flushed from sleep and the fact that she had been biting her bottom lip. If he was being honest with himself, it was difficult not to look at her.
She had endured so much, yet still, she possessed an unshakable softness, a grace in the curve of her shoulders, the warmth and depth in her piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through him.
Her long, wild midnight curls, untamed yet glistening in the morning light, held a magnetic pull. It made him ache with the urge to bury his face in her hair, to feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest.
It was a silly thought, but he could not get it out of his mind. Any man would be lucky to have her, and yet her family had shown no hesitation in throwing her away. He could understand why Amelia was so protective of her.
He could understand why he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
He shook himself, focusing on his plate, trying to remind himself that it was rude to stare. After her rather cheeky statement, Helena had returned to her meal looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
He really could not help darting glance at her glances at her from beneath his lashes.
She truly was an enigma. And he was in the business of mystery solving. Of course he was interested in her.
What spy wouldn’t be?
“Where were you last night?” Amelia asked in that same accusing tone.
Silas turned to her with narrowed eyes. “If you must know, I was at Lord Richmont’s home. He invited me for dinner.”
“Just you?” Amelia asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Silas snapped. “We had business to discuss.”
“Oh…” Amelia straightened up, looking interested. “What business?”
“That is none of your concern, little sister,” Silas said flatly.
“Humph!” Amelia pouted, as she looked down at her plate.
Silas shook his head at her and as he turned back to his plate, he caught Helena’s gaze. She also seemed to have been looking at Amelia.
And then she looked at him.
Unconsciously, he nodded at her and she, to his surprise, smiled in return.
He stopped breathing for a moment, acknowledging to himself, once again, that she was a very lovely girl. He could not hide from his attraction to her, or else it would get him in trouble.
He stood up abruptly. “Excuse me ladies… I have something I must attend to.”
With a sharp bow, Silas turned, his movements brisk and precise as he made his way to his study, his pulse quickening in a way he refused to acknowledge.