Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Lord Richmont, you should have told me that you were coming! I would have prepared a gift for you,” Amelia said.
Amelia was clearly very excited to see Benedict at dinner. It wasn’t the man’s fault, but Silas could not help but blame Benedict’s charm for Amelia’s infatuation.
He kept glaring at his friend as Amelia smiled at him, her cheeks flaming, as she was continuously flustered in his presence. Benedict, on the other hand, was inclined to ignore Amelia’s overtures, treating her just as a beloved younger sibling.
Benedict smiled. “That is very generous of you, my dear, but completely unnecessary. I’m grateful for the chance to eat at your table. The food is always delicious and the company, as ever, scintillating.”
Amelia beamed. Silas glared. Helena laughed.
Jeeves chose that very moment to bring in the next course, much to Silas’s relief.
“Roasted duck!” Benedict exclaimed, clapping his hands with glee. “I know your cook is particularly proficient at this dish.”
“You know far too much about my kitchen.” Silas said grumpily.
“Oh, don’t be jealous,” Benedict teased. “You are still my favorite person in this house.”
“Ack!” Amelia protested, “I thought that was me!”
Benedict gave her a regretful look. “Unfortunately, your brother saved my life in Hispaniola. That is a debt that can only be repaid with eternal affection and devotion.”
Helena raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
Benedict turned to her. “Oh, you want me to tell the tale?”
“Yes,” Helena and Amelia both said.
“I’m afraid His Grace might feel embarrassed. He is a surprisingly modest man.”
Amelia and Helena both pleaded with him loudly as Silas sighed into his meat.
Benedict grinned at him. “Very well, here is the story. My friend here and I were sent to deliver troops to the governor of Hispaniola when we were but green lads ourselves. It was a test, you see, for whether we were capable of comporting ourselves like responsible men.”
“Who was testing you?” Helena asked.
“The short answer is the Crown. The longer answer is the late duke of Highcliff. I suppose he wanted to see if his son here had the disposition for government work.”
Helena nodded. “So, what happened?”
“Being young men of excitable nature, we thought to venture into the foothills where escapees were said to have formed a community.”
“What did you mean to do?” Amelia asked quietly.
Benedict shrugged. “We thought we might speak with them, establish our authority, that kind of thing.” He grinned. “Needless to say, they did not take it well and proposed to send our heads back to the governor on a pike.”
Amelia gasped. “What did you do?”
“Well, I was stupid and arrogant, shouting about empire and might. If I had been alone, then I probably would have disappeared that night, never to be seen again. But Silas here was more of a diplomat. He saw the danger we were in, and sought audience with the headman.”
Silas put his head in his palm. “It was not having a head for diplomacy, just one for survival,” he protested.
“Silas asked the headman if there was something they needed from Santo Domingo, that we might procure for him in exchange for our lives.” Benedict paused for effect.
“What did he say?” Helena exclaimed impatiently.
“Lucky for us, the headman had a daughter who happened to be working in the governor’s residence. Silas promised to get her out and bring her back while the community held me hostage.”
Helena turned to Silas. “Did you do it?”
Silas nodded, “The hardest part was actually getting her to trust that I was taking her to her father. Once she knew I was telling the truth, she came with me willingly and we stole away in the night and back up the hills. The headman was good as his word and gave Benedict back to me.”
“Did you tell Father what you’d done?” Amelia asked.
Silas shook his head. “It was tremendously foolish of us. We were not about to call attention to it.”
Helena shook her head at him. “Every day, a new revelation,” she murmured.
He gave her a smile. “Ah, it was nothing. Luckily, everything else went smoothly and we returned to London triumphant.”
Amelia reached out and patted Benedict’s hand. “I understand why he’s your favorite now. I suppose I shall just have to work harder to earn the honor of taking his place.”
Silas rolled his eyes. “Lord, save us,” he murmured.
“Tell me about London?” Amelia said softly as she played the harpsichord after dinner.
They were sitting in the music room drinking Brandy and eating chocolate gateau, as they waited for the men to finish with their cigars. Helena knew what they were really doing, but she went along with the deception.
“I like the townhouse. Silas keeps an excellent chef there. The food was delicious.”
Amelia laughed. “Silas told me he stole the chef away from Benedict. Lord Richmont was quite annoyed about that.”
Helena gave her a look. “You really like him, don’t you?”
Amelia sighed wistfully. “He is an absolutely gorgeous man, such good manners and so gentle. And his eyes…”
Helena watched her in amusement. It was clear that Amelia was lost in her daydreams. “I do not think your brother will let you have him as a suitor.”
Amelia scoffed, “Silas is overprotective and silly. Who else would be worthy of me, if not his friend?”
“Perhaps he wants you to have someone closer to your own age.”
Amelia snorted. “And where would I meet such a person?”
“You have plenty of time.”
Amelia shook her head. “I do not. I love Benedict.”
Helena bit her lip. She had never heard such certainty from one so young.
She herself could not imagine being so sure of another person.
She could not recall harboring any romantic feelings at that age.
She could not even remember showing the slightest interest in the opposite sex.
Even with visitors of all ages constantly coming and going from their home.
“Perhaps he’s just the only man you know well, who you are not related to.” Helena said quietly.
Amelia made no reply, just continued to play her instrument. She had some talent, nothing remarkable, but the music was pleasant. Helena sat back, taking a bit of her gateau and just listened.
She thought about Silas and how she felt when she was near him.
Am I in love with him? How will I know if I am?
She knew that she craved his touch, but maybe that was because he was always gentle and caring with her. She had missed the feel of human touch for the last five years. She had missed being touched with affection rather than violence.
So how am I to know whether I am merely clinging to the first person to show me some care?
She shook her head. What she felt for Silas didn’t really matter. The important thing was to avenge her father and rescue Charlie.
Even though all she wanted to do was march into Downfield House, scoop her brother up into her arms, and walk out, she could not.
Silas had told her it would provoke James in the worst way.
She’d already married the duke and was out of his reach.
If she physically removed Charlie, God knew how desperate that would make her uncle.
So, all she could do for now was be patient.
Helena sat up in bed as soon as Silas came into her room. “Did you come up with a plan?”
He smirked, “You’re an impatient one. Can I at least sit down first?”
“Of course.” She patted the bed, her eyes eager.
He saw that she was in a long-sleeved shift tonight, though with a wide neckline that drooped down her shoulder. He could see the slight swell of her right breast as her hands fiddled with the ribbon that could pull her neckline closed.
He came and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the dancing flames of the fire, which was the only light in the room aside from the moon shining in through the open curtains.
It was a clear night, a full moon, and a starry midnight sky, just a little darker looking than Helena’s eyes. A dog barked somewhere on the grounds, his message answered by the other dogs that guarded the estate from unwanted visitors.
He’d entreated Benedict to spend the night in the guest chambers as it was late, and he’d had a bit to drink.
“Well?” she asked impatiently and he smiled.
“Benedict had some news about the diadem. Or rather, a story.”
She raised her eyebrows. “A story?”
“Yes. His… mistress is a Frenchwoman, from Marseille.” His mouth twisted. “He says she heard him muttering to himself about the diadem, but I would not be surprised if he shared the information with her.” He took a breath, looking into her eyes. “They met on a case, you see. She was his informant.”
“Oh.” Helena’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”
“Yes, well…” Silas shrugged, “She said that she has heard of this diadem. She used to work in a tavern in Marseille and there was a group that used to meet there. Exiled Englishmen, rebels and such.”
Helena nodded. “And they spoke of it?”
“Yes. Their group apparently had some belief that this diadem was a talisman and the person who wielded it would be the true King of England.”
Helena’s nose wrinkled, “What? You mean like the Scots believed that Charles Stuart was the rightful king?”
“Yes, something like that.”
Helena frowned. “And so…you think that my father…?”
“I don’t think your father had this belief, no. But he was working on this case before he died. Perhaps he found the diadem and hid it so that they could not get hold of it.”
“Do… do you think these people mean to… invade England?” she whispered.
Silas shrugged. “We are at war with France. Perhaps it is simply a French attempt at distraction. But clearly the best way to stop it is to get the diadem to the crown.”
Helena’s shoulders drooped. “How will we do that?”
“I’m not sure yet. I shall write a letter to my superiors and see what they think.”
Helena nodded in relief. “Yes, that’s a good idea. We cannot decide on our own.”
“No. That would be foolish.”
Their gazes met and held. Helena smiled. “I suppose your days of doing foolish things are behind you.”
Silas huffed, shaking his head. “I regret telling you that story very much.”
Helena laughed. “It was very sweet of you to rescue him like that. Sweet and quick witted.”
He leaned close, pressing his mouth to hers. “I don’t want to talk anymore. There are far more interesting things to do with our time.”
She leaned her head back, so their lips were even closer, “Oh? Like what?” she whispered against his mouth.
“Like ravishing my wife,” he said and kissed her.
His tongue flicked out, seeking entry, and her entire body softened, letting him in. As he kissed her frantically, his hands on her shoulders pulled down her shift so it pooled against her elbows, exposing her breasts.
He gasped, looking down at them as if he’d never seen them before. Then his mouth latched on her right breast, suckling hard as he pushed her back against the pillows.
She spread her legs wide as he nestled between them, his hands working to push her shift up and out of the way.
With a moan and a grunt, he pushed into her, immediately beginning to thrust hard and long, his hips working even as his mouth laved at her breast. She panted, gripping his hair tightly as he possessed all of her.
“Silas,” she groaned, eyes closed as her body shuddered to completion beneath him.
“Mmmm,” he murmured in satisfaction.
His hips jerked as he pushed her legs up, supporting them on his shoulders as he braced himself with his hands.
Eyes closed, he let himself go, pumping into her with abandon as she moaned in encouragement.
Her cries grew louder as her body contracted around his, a second orgasm bearing down on her as he felt his own body explode, his climax pouring into her as he shook and shuddered, lost in pleasure.
“Yes,” he whispered as he collapsed atop her, feeling boneless and at peace.