Chapter 13 #3
The sound of the door opening drew her attention.
Helena started, her fingers tightening around the edge of the box.
She wished she had another moment to return it to the bookcase, but Tristan was already stepping into the room.
His gaze fell immediately upon the box resting in her lap before lifting to meet her eyes.
Warmth crept into Helena's cheeks and she was certain she looked as guilty as she felt.
Tristan closed the door behind him and raised an eyebrow, as though giving her every opportunity to explain, yet there was no accusation in his expression, only a gentle patience.
"It is beautifully made," Helena said, resting a hand lightly upon the lid. "I was admiring the craftsmanship. I thought it might make an interesting study."
Tristan lifted his head, his eyes dropping briefly to the box once more. "Indeed, it would."
The silence that followed stretched between them. Helena knew she ought to tell him about the pages hidden inside, to tell him of Elinor's fears, of the dreadful suggestion that she had tried to protect Frederick before his carriage accident. Yet the words refused to come.
Frederick's name had not been spoken within the household, as it seemed his loss was still too painful for those who had loved him. How could she place such suspicions before Tristan when she herself did not understand them?
Worse still, what if she had misunderstood? What if Elinor's fears had meant something else entirely? To burden Tristan with half-formed suspicions, without knowing the truth herself, felt almost as cruel as saying nothing at all.
Helena smiled at him. "Shall I call for some tea?"
It seemed Tristan might agree, but something changed in his expression. "There is no need. I wished only to satisfy myself that breakfast had not distressed you."
"I am well," Helena said. "Georgiana is still very young, and I would not have you think I blame her. Still, I thank you for your thoughtfulness this morning. It should pass, I hope," she continued. "Though I confess I am troubled by how suddenly she has changed toward me."
"So am I." Tristan frowned slightly. "I have thought about little else today, and I cannot account for it."
"Charlotte suggested her first Season may have gone to her head a little," Helena said with the faintest hint of amusement. "Perhaps that is all it is."
"Perhaps," Tristan responded. “Afternoon tea will be served shortly. Will you join us?"
Helena nodded. "Gladly. I shall be down in a moment."
Tristan offered the ghost of a smile before turning toward the door.
His hand had already reached the handle when he stopped.
Slowly, he looked back at her. He held her gaze and hesitated before he spoke, "I know we do not speak to one another as we once did," he said quietly.
"Believe me, that has not escaped my notice. "
Helena felt her breath catch.
"But if there is ever anything you need to tell me..." He paused, choosing his words with unusual care. "Anything at all, Helena... I hope you will, I would rather hear it from you than discover it another way."
Before Helena could find an answer, Tristan quietly left the room.
She remained where she was, her gaze fixed upon the closed door.
Though he had spoken only a few sentences, it was more than he had truly said to her since their wedding.
He, too, had noticed the distance that had come between them, how the easy friendship they had once shared had given way to a marriage governed by practicality.
More than that, he had asked her to trust him. He had not demanded an explanation, nor questioned what she had been doing. Instead, he had simply asked that if there was something she wished to tell him, she tell him first.
Yet it was his final words that echoed in her mind.
I would rather hear it from you than discover it another way.
They carried the unnerving implication that he believed there might be something for him to discover.
Helena could not imagine what had given him such an impression, and that uncertainty troubled her more than she cared to admit.
Helena joined the family for tea moments later and found herself greatly entertained by Oliver as he recounted his lesson with his tutor and proudly repeated the praise he had received. Georgiana, though outwardly polite, remained noticeably reserved toward both Helena and Tristan.
When Helena rose to retire to her chambers and change for the evening, a footman appeared in the doorway carrying a letter upon a silver salver. Once alone, she turned it over in her hands. The seal was plain and unmarked, bearing only her name and the townhouse address.
She broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet inside. There was no signature, nor any indication of who had written it, and she did not recognize the hand.
"My Lady, is all well?" Mary asked as she withdrew a gown from the wardrobe.
Helena lifted her eyes. "Yes. I have merely received a most curious letter."
Once Mary returned her attention to the wardrobe, Helena looked down at the page again in disbelief.
Congratulations upon your recent nuptials.
The lady whose title you now bear left behind more than her name. Find the box and read her letters with care, for within them lie truths yet to be uncovered.