She stared up at him, face still pale but free of dirt, her eyes like pools luring him into their dark depths.
Something within him stirred. Something dark, deep in his stomach, lighting his skin on fire.
He cleared this throat, casting the sensation aside, “You look well,” he said.
The understatement of the year.
She gave him a quick curtsy, and a small smile. “Thank you, Your Grace. I feel better. It’s amazing what a simple bath can do.”
He gulped, using every ounce of strength in him to push away the image of her naked in a bathtub.
“Indeed,” he said. “Can I interest you in some tea, perhaps?”
“Yes, please. I missed breakfast.”
“Well, we must amend that.”
She raised her eyebrows, ready to ask a question, but was cut off by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Silas called.
As if on cue, the butler entered and stood aside to let a procession of maids, carrying trays, enter the room. In addition to a kettle of tea, plates of scrambled eggs, kippers, fried tomatoes, freshly baked bread, jam, sticks of butter, honey and honey cakes filled the silver trays.
Helena stared at it all, jaw dropped. She licked her lips, watching hungrily as the maid poured her tea.
Silas studied her, unable to peel his eyes away from her rosy lips.
For goodness’s sake, focus, man.
He pushed away the thought, dropping his eyes to the food.
A maid picked up a plate, and paused, looking at Helena. “What would you like me to serve you, my lady?” she asked softly.
Helena stared at all the food. “Well, I think I’ll have a bit of everything.”
The maid smiled and began to fill her plate as Silas struggled not to think about other appetites that might be satisfied. He did not understand his reaction to Helena. He had never had a preference for lost-looking waifs.
Nothing but problems can result from this train of thought.
He took a deep breath, picked up his own cup of tea and took a sip of the hot liquid.
She mimicked him, and drank from her own cup. Her fingers around the cup were long and delicate looking. He did not know why he found everything about her attractive.
He cleared his throat as the servants cleared out. “So, you’ve had some time to think, I presume. Are you ready to tell me what happened to your father?”
She sipped her tea and said nothing.
He inclined his head to the side, considering her keenly. “Surely, you do not mean to protect his murderers, do you?”
She looked up at him sharply, daggers in her eyes. Yet she still did not say a word.
He huffed with irritation. “What will it take for you to understand what is at stake?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I am not the one who does not understand what is at stake.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head slowly. “You can’t help me. Nobody can help me.”
