Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Silas closed the door to his chambers and began to pace up and down.
He’d left Helena in her lady’s maid’s capable hands, and retired to his suite of rooms for lack of a better idea of what to do.
It was his wedding day, yet he had no idea how to proceed.
He folded his arms, walking to the window and peering out into the courtyard. There was the usual hustle and bustle of a typical day, nothing to indicate that the world had changed in fundamental ways.
I should go to my study and get some work done.
Even as he said it, he knew he was too distracted to focus.
I have a wife now. Helena is my wife.
Silas could only characterize his mental state as one huge exclamation mark.
He had always expected that he would marry, it was his duty, after all.
But…he had thought it would be a clinical process: he would find the most advantageous suit—after Amelia’s marriage, of course—and produce an heir and a spare, after which he and his bride would go their separate ways.
Instead, he was caught in a web of intrigue, confused emotion and the need to protect his bride, both from external threats and his own worst instincts.
He could hear movement in the suite of rooms next to him. No doubt Mrs. Owen and Patricia were taking charge of moving Helena to the Duchess’s quarters.
He took a step towards the adjoining door, wondering if he should join them.
No. Give her some time.
He turned away and dropped into his chair. Picking up the book on his bedside table, he began to read.
The Duchess’s quarters were much larger than the bedchamber she had been staying in.
The space consisted of three different rooms: a small sitting room, a dressing room and a bedchamber. A few of her new gowns were already delivered, and new shoes as well.
Patricia walked in, carrying a box. She opened it to show Helena a cache of jewelry with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, gold, and silver.
She gasped. “What…?” She began to shake her head. “Surely you are mistaken. These cannot be mine.”
“They belong to the Duchess.” Patricia said with a smile. “You are the Duchess now, Your Grace.”
Helena could hardly get her mouth to close. “Did… His… His Grace tell you to give me these?”
“Exactly, Your Grace.” Patricia smiled as if Helena was being very silly.
Helena could feel her heart pounding. Somehow, seeing the shining array of expensive jewels really brought home to her how much of a change of status she had undergone.
She was no longer just a girl with no one to protect her. She was a duchess, with all that it entailed.
The nuns could not touch her now.
She waited to feel a sense of relief at that, but all she felt was anxious and tense, waiting for the next thing to happen. She might be safe from the nuns, but her uncle would not be deterred by a title or a marriage certificate.
If he could dispose of his own brother, what would he do to me?
She didn’t even want to think about Charlie. Silas had promised that her brother would be all right and she had to take his word for it otherwise she would lose her mind.
The door opened, and several serving girls walked in carrying pails of water, some of which they poured into the cauldron over the fireplace before stoking the fire.
They dragged the wooden tub out of the dressing room, setting it before the fire and arranging a variety of soaps, perfumes and lavender petals at the ready.
Patricia helped her to undress, slipping Helena’s robe over her shoulders.
It didn’t take long for the cauldron to be steaming.
The serving girls poured the hot water into the tub, added cold water, and then the lavender petals.
Patricia took Helena’s robe off and led her to the tub, helping her inside.
It had been a long time since Helena had had any help bathing herself and she wanted to protest, but the serving girls’ actions had something of a ritual to them.
Perhaps this is how all duchesses are bathed on their first night.
So, she succumbed submissively to the careful washing of every part of her body including her hair, which was then gently brushed until it shone.
Patricia massaged her skin with oils that made her feel soft and supple before dressing her in a soft white muslin shift, her shining black hair hanging halfway down her back.
“Will I not have to dress for dinner?” she asked tentatively.
“His Grace and Lady Amelia are taking their meals in their chambers.” Patricia told her, “Would you like to do the same or dine downstairs, Your Grace?”
Helena certainly had no intention of eating alone in that vast hall. She shook her head, “I shall just eat here, thank you.”
Patricia nodded. “Very well, Your Grace. Do you have any particular requests for your meal?”
Helena’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. “Perhaps… some chocolate for dessert? Anything Cook has on hand. I do not wish to trouble her,” she requested.
Patricia smiled. “Of course, Your Grace.”
She stood up to leave, but then Helena remembered something else. “Oh, and would you kindly bring me something to read?”
Patricia nodded and left, leaving Helena alone with her thoughts.
She’d never felt so soft and pampered in her life, but she was still tense with anticipation. She had no idea what to expect.
Will Silas come to my chambers later? Am I to go to his?
She wished there was somebody who could tell her what she was supposed to do. She had thought that they would at least share a meal and she could ask Silas, but if he had chosen to eat in his room, then she had no clue what to do next.
She looked around her quarters, feeling like a misplaced toy.
Everything was alien, nothing truly belonged to her. They all belonged to this person named “the Duchess.”
She walked to the window and curled up against the seat, staring outside, trying to get used to the notion that this was her new home.
A wave of misery overtook her, and she suddenly missed her brother and father terribly.
Burying her face in her arms, she let a few tears fall, grieving for the family that was lost to her.
She realized that this was the first time she’d ever felt safe enough to simply contemplate everything. To really feel the loss of her father, feel the pain of being torn away from her brother and the potential life she could have had.
A soft knock on the door had her wiping away her tears. “Come in.”
Patricia came in brandishing a tray which she placed on the sitting room table. The aroma of fresh bread and hot spicy stew filled the room. Next to the bowl of stew was the promised chocolate gateau as well as a bottle of port.
Helena smiled. “Thank you.”
Patricia curtsied. “If you need me, just ring the bell, Your Grace. I’m at your disposal.”
Helena nodded as she got off her window seat and walked to the sofa. She sat down with a sigh, contemplating her food.
For a moment, she regretted not asking Patricia to stay, for she hated eating alone.
She turned her head, staring at the door that led to the duke’s chambers.
Is he in there now? Will he join me?
With a sigh, she picked up a piece of bread, cut it in half, and dipped it in the stew.
Might as well eat it while it’s hot.
Silas finished his dinner, and then downed a glass of brandy as he read the evening paper. Not much was happening in London, if one was to believe what was written. Clearly, the country did not know about the rebellion fomenting in their midst.
He wondered how long it would take before James Porter heard that the wedding had taken place and what he would do in reaction.
It was clear to Silas that James was afraid of Helena and what she knew.
Which led him to wonder if she did indeed know more than she was telling.
Perhaps she didn’t even know that the information she had was valuable.
He put his newspaper aside, contemplating the door that led to her chambers. He was in two minds about stepping through it. For one thing, he was not sure about his own motives for doing so, and he wasn’t sure if Helena was aware of what happened between a man and wife after the wedding.
She certainly hadn’t had anyone to educate her.
But he knew he could not just ignore her, for that would be extremely ungentlemanly.
Pouring himself some more brandy, he downed it in one go, and then strode determinedly to the door. He lifted his hand, hesitated a moment, before knocking.
“Come in,” a very nervous-sounding voice said from the other side of the door.
He opened the door and stuck his head into Helena’s chambers. “Good evening.”
She blinked at him, nonplussed. “Good—good evening.”
“May I come in?”
She nodded jerkily, and he stepped slowly into the room, closing the door behind him.
He leaned against the door with a sigh. “How are you doing?”
She moved her head from side to side in a so-so gesture. “It’s been, erm, an eventful day,” she said ruefully.
He straightened up from the door taking two steps towards her.
“Indeed,” he agreed dryly. “Did you settle in satisfactorily?”
She took a deep breath. “I got the jewels. A little extravagant, don’t you think?”
He smiled taking the seat next to her. “Not at all. The jewels belong to you now. They’ve been passed on from duchess to duchess since my ancestors claimed this land.”
“How historic. I shall watch over them diligently.”
He half-smirked. “I know you will. As I know that they will look lovely on you.”
She shuddered, shaking her head. “Oh, I dare not wear them. What if they were to get lost?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. They’re insured.”
“But the history!”
Silas was still grinning, amused at her earnestness. “You can relax. You are not about to ruin a family legacy here. They are simply baubles that you wear to complement your beauty.”
Helena kept watching him skeptically. “You are very nonchalant about this. It worries me.”
“Everything worries you, does it not? Simply add this to the pile. But please, do feel free to wear them whenever you want.”
“I don’t expect we shall be attending many parties. What with…” she gestured around with her hand, “everything going on with my uncle.”
“No, we certainly shall not be holding any soirees. Not until we have apprehended your uncle and his henchmen.”
She gave a deep sigh. “And when do you think that will be? Do you have the evidence you need?”
“Not enough. In fact, I meant to ask you if you knew anything about his doings. He seems so determined to get you back, perhaps you saw something you shouldn’t?”
“Like what?”
“Did you have any visitors to your father’s house, strange men? Perhaps a conversation you overheard?”
She shook her head, sighing. “It’s been five years since I was home. Even if I saw something inadvertently, I don’t recall. Please tell me that you have more than my testimony. You promised that Charlie would be safe.”
“He is safe. We are keeping watch over him.”
“Do you know what he wants? Uncle James, that is. Do you know why he’s doing all this?”
“We suspect it has something to do with selling secrets to the French. His known associates are notorious for being purveyors of government secrets and selling to the highest bidder.”
“I want to help you. What can I do?”
“You have done enough. Leave the rest of it to us.”
She gave him a disbelieving look. “Surely, you do not just expect me to sit here and wait. My life was ruined by this man. I did not come here to hide behind your coat tails. I came here for your help.”
“And am I not doing just that?”
“Yes, but you’re also shoving me to the side and taking over.”
“What is it that you think you can do, that I, with my resources, cannot?”
“I know the manor. I can get in. I can search for the evidence that you need.”
Silas began shaking his head as soon as she started speaking. “That’s too dangerous. You could get hurt or killed.”
“I know how to be careful,” she pressed.
He continued to shake his head. “No. Anything but that. If you want to help, write down your testimony so that I can submit it when I need to.”
To his surprise, she growled in frustration, and he reared back in shock at the sound.
“I am doing everything I can to find evidence so that we may arrest these people.”
“You won’t tell me anything and you won’t let me help. What do you want from me?”
Silas gave her a disbelieving look. “What do I want from you?” He laughed ruefully. “Now, isn’t that a good question.”