Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Silas stared at the note in his hand, then looked up at Giovanni.
“Is this true?”
Giovanni nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir. He was seen at Dover by some of our friends in the spice trade. They sent word.”
Silas cursed and looked down at the note from an esteemed friend, Doctor Merkel, again:
I am sorry to say that I believe an old acquaintance of ours has made overtures toward England.
I have had word from friends in Calais that the infamous smuggler, Willy Dugby, has been seen around the French port.
I have written back that they are not to trust him and inspect any cargo he travels with for innocents.
You have done a great deed in exposing his horrific trade in youth and children, but I must also tell you to beware.
I had a chance to meet your lovely wife at the Adley Estate.
I am loathe to remind you that once Willy Dugby traded in just her type. Have a care, Lucifer.
“A good man,” Silas muttered, tossing the letter onto the fire. Doctor Merkel could always be relied on to speak truthfully. It was one of the reasons Silas had maintained an acquaintance with him after his return to England.
“He has been in your debt since Paris.”
“If anyone is in my debt, it is his sister who had to suffer Dugby’s kidnapping, and even she would not have suffered if I had exposed his organization sooner.” Silas clenched his fists against the mantelpiece.
“You did not know, sir,” Giovanni spoke in a placating tone. “You are not to blame.”
“I knew he was a bad man.” Silas stared into the fire, seeing ghosts.
“Every one of his victims is on my conscience.” Silas swallowed down the bitter bile of rage inside him.
So many innocent children who would never be returned home.
He closed his eyes tightly, fighting back the nightmares.
“I will not let Anna, Beatrice, or anyone else join them.”
“I can hire some men from London, discreet bodyguards,” Giovanni suggested.
Silas nodded. “They must be good with weapons, too. You know Dugby likes to travel with an assortment of characters.”
“I shall hire a variety of skills.”
“Good. Go immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Giovanni paused at the door. “Your wife, sir.”
“What about her?”
“Might it be prudent to send her away for a while? We are used to watching Miss Klane, it is easy as she is not out in society, but your wife is. She will be traveling all over London, seeing all sorts of people. It might be easier to watch her if she was, say, to have a long holiday at Adley Hall?”
“No!” Silas slammed his fist on the mantelpiece, the clock and ornaments rattling under his anger. “No, I will not send Anna back there. She stays with me.”
It had been bad enough letting her go back for just one night, even when he knew her wastrel of a father was absent. He could not bear to let her live under that man’s roof again.
“Sir, it might be putting us all at risk.”
“I don’t care!” Silas rounded on his best friend and bodyguard, glaring. “She stays with me.”
“Very well, sir.” Giovanni nodded stiffly. “It will be as you command.”
“Please, Gio.” Silas sighed, letting his head hang between his arms as he stared back into the fire. “I only want to keep her safe. Since she has been gone, I have been… restless.”
This was an understatement and both of them knew it.
Silas had been unable to settle to work, unable to ride, and unable to visit his tenants.
He had bothered Giovanni hourly for any reports or updates on the weather, expected travel times, and anything possibly tangentially connected to Anna’s journey.
He had been fractious and the household had reverted to a hushed state, servants tiptoeing around him to avoid his sullen glares.
Beatrice had awoken that morning and, seeing that he was in no better mood, had declared him “mopey” and decided to take herself and half the staff into the village for a shopping trip just to get away from him.
Silas didn’t blame them. All he could think about was whether or not Anna was safe.
“Well, I have good news for you then.”
“Oh?” Silas looked up at Giovanni’s smug smile.
“Oh yes,” Giovanni grinned. “She’s made it home.”
Silas jerked around to look out of the window, seeing his carriage rattling back into the courtyard.
“She’s not meant to be back until tonight!
” He immediately lurched for the door, flinging his jacket over his shoulder and hurrying to do up the buttons.
“I will be back,” he called to Giovanni, hearing his friend’s rueful laugh behind him.
Silas ran down the stairs, eager to meet Anna at the front door. He reached it just as Anna climbed out of the carriage, looking radiant in a green gown and bonnet. She looked surprised to see him standing in the doorway.
“You weren’t supposed to be back until this evening,” Silas blurted out.
“I decided to come home earlier.” Anna sighed, removing her gloves self-consciously.
Silas watched her carefully. He noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way her blonde brows were furrowed with anxiety.
Everything was not well, he could tell, but he didn’t want to force her to tell him.
He looked up at the sky. It was a clear morning, if a bit chilly, and he wasn’t due at his tenants until later in the day.
“Would you have a moment to take a turn about the garden with me?” he asked awkwardly, aware this would be the first time he had actively sought her company in their marriage.
“Yes, thank you.” She looked surprised but not displeased. “That would be pleasant after a long drive.”
Silas whistled for the dogs, who came bounding out of the stables barking happily when they saw Anna.
They set off through the stone archway that led to the garden and the small apple orchard.
The grass was still damp from the rain they had been having lately, but the sun was bright and warm against their skin.
“It is so beautiful here,” Anna sighed happily.
“I’m glad you think so,” Silas said softly.
He saw her shoulders visibly relax with a deep sigh and felt she was ready to answer his questions.
“Why did you come back so early?” he asked quietly.
Anna sighed, reaching up to loosen the ribbons of her bonnet. “I didn’t want to stay in the house with my father.”
Silas stopped in his tracks. “He was there?”
“Yes, he was.”
Anna lifted off her bonnet. She had clearly left the Adley estate in a rush, her hair was only half pulled up in a ribbon, the golden curls streaming over her shoulders. She looked at Silas, who was trying very hard not to reveal his concern.
“Mother mentioned he had said something to you at the reception. She thought he may have made you angry.”
“He did.”
“I am sorry that he upset you,” Anna spoke regretfully. “He can be thoughtless.”
“You must never apologize for him.”
Anna didn’t respond. If her father had hurt her in any way, it would be hard for Silas to keep from killing him. At the same time, he didn’t want Anna to feel hounded with questions about her family’s secret.
“Silas, are you all right?”
Silas felt questions burst from his mouth without his permission. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”
Silas looked at her sharply for her reaction to detect any lies. Her face was impassive at his question, and he recognized it as the mask of a person used to covering up for someone else.
“How long have you known?” Her tone was light, but she wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Since the wedding.”
He had suspected something of the sort from their first meeting, but Anna didn’t need to know what kind of disastrous life he had led up to this point that he was so quick to recognize the tell-tale signs of familial abuse. No one does, a dark voice added inside his heart.
“Is that why you were angry with him?”
“Yes.” Silas swallowed and clenched his fists. “You haven’t answered my question. Did he harm you?”
“No.” Anna twisted her bonnet strings in her fingers. “He hurt my feelings, but he did not harm me. He would not dare now.”
She suddenly smirked, a classic expression of Anna’s Silas was coming to realize. It was both beautiful and comedic, making him feel like he was part of a secret between them.
“Oh?”
“Yes, I may have… suggested that you would bring hell down upon him if he spoke badly about us.”
“You may have?” Silas asked, amused.
Anna blushed furiously, and Silas’ heart thumped. She was incredibly beautiful when she blushed.
“I might have referred to you by that nefarious moniker of yours.” She smirked again. “It had the desired effect.”
Silas couldn’t help but laugh. She had been so averse to his “Lucifer” reputation, the idea that she had used it to scare her terrible father into submission was somehow incredibly appropriate.
“Well, I guess we will have to call you Lillith after all,” he joked. “Or the queen of hell. That was certainly devious enough to warrant it.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I could live up to either title.”
“Perhaps not.” Silas smiled and reached forward to tuck a golden curl back behind her ear. “There is too much of spring about you to be the goddess of hell.”
Anna smiled. “What about Persephone?”
Silas’ heart dropped. For a moment, he thought she must have been able to see inside his head at the moment he had seen her at their wedding and thought she looked like the goddess of spring.
Silas had already called her by this name in his mind, in his most intimate moments, when he bathed or just before he fell asleep alone in the bedroom adjacent to the library, he imagined her naked and luminous, her golden hair adorned with flowers as she sighed and moaned under his kisses. He swallowed hard.
“Though she was only queen of hell half of the year,” Anna amended. “I can’t imagine you’d be amenable to such an arrangement.”
Silas’ heart jolted at her words. “Is that what you would want?”
Anna looked up at him like he was being absurd and shook her head. “No,” she spoke quietly, gazing up at the grand facade of Fallenbrook. “This is my home now.”
He was delighted to hear her say so but had no idea how to respond.
His mind was running wild with all he wanted to say; that no home for him would ever be complete without her in it, and every moment of his waking day was preoccupied with her happiness and contentment.
Yet he could say none of these things. In his mind's eye, he saw the letter that he had thrown into the fireplace: Have a care, Lucifer, Doctor Merkel had said.
Have a care not to bring the darkness of his past to his future.
Have a care not to take what he could not, by rights, ever deserve.
He was a haunted man. He was not worthy of her.
He would never take her unless he was sure, completely sure, that she loved him.
And why would anyone love a man like you? A cruel voice spoke inside his head.
“I am glad of it,” he said finally.
Anna had turned back to the house, lifting her hand to shield her eyes against the sun. Her face broke into a wide, gorgeous smile.
“Beatrice is back!” She laughed joyfully. “Come on!”
Anna seized Silas’ hand, pulling him like one might drag a surly child up across the grass.
Silas couldn’t help but laugh, too, and for a moment, he let himself give into the lightness of the moment: his wife’s warm hand in his, the wind in his hair, his sister’s happy face smiling down on them as they strode across the springy lawn.
He let it all settle into his spirit. For a moment, he didn’t think about the dark shadows of the past that loomed close to his present.
For a moment, he didn’t feel like Lucifer at all.