Was I going to kiss her?
The very thought was ludicrous. He flicked a glance at Helena; her face was so animated, and for once, there was no trace of misery in her eyes. A part of him, one that the duties of the duchy and his work for the Crown demanded he suppress, wished she were being genuine, and not merely putting herself out to amuse his sister.
“Silas.” Amelia’s voice cut through the air, sharp and teasing. “You might want to stop staring. You are making Helena think you’ve been hypnotized.”
Silas blinked and snapped his gaze back to his plate, though the slight flush in his cheeks gave away the truth.
“I was not staring,” he muttered.
“Oh, but you were,” Amelia teased, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I wonder what could have caught your attention so thoroughly.”
Helena, sitting across from them, tilted her head just slightly, catching Silas’s eye. Her lips quirked into a half-smile, which vanished instantly.
“I assure you, my lady,” he told Helena smoothly, “I was simply contemplating the way your stories have a tendency to entertain.”
Helena raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed his words. She made no reply, her gaze flicking to Amelia, then back to him.
Amelia, ever the one to poke at the situation, leaned forward with a smile. “You must be quite taken with her, brother,” she teased. “You have been unusually quiet, and I do believe it’s because of our lovely guest.”
Helena bit her lip for a second, remaining silent, clearly having no interest in engaging with the conversation.
Silas felt the faintest tightening in his chest. Curiously, part of him missed the boldness she’d exhibited before. What had happened to it? Had he scared her off in the library?
He cleared his throat. “I am not accustomed to company at dinner, as you know, sister,” he said. “But I must admit, Lady Helena does have a knack for keeping things interesting.”
Helena’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, but her tone remained level. “I shall try not to disappoint, Your Grace.”
Silas had to swallow the irritation that rose at her restraint. He hadn’t expected her to be so unfazed, so composed, despite the obvious tension. He felt responsible for it. Felt responsible towards her.
Before he could speak again, Amelia intervened, sensing the undercurrent between them.
“How about this, Helena,” she said brightly, breaking the silence. “After supper, I’ll show you how to play the harpsichord, like we said? You mentioned you were interested in brushing up, didn’t you?”
Helena glanced at Amelia, her eyes softening ever so slightly, before looking back at Silas. “That sounds lovely. I would enjoy that very much.”
With that, Helena stood, giving him a quick glance before turning to follow Amelia out of the room.
Silas remained seated, his hand still resting on the table, and he let out a long breath.
His thoughts were tangled, but above all, his whole being felt tangled, every fiber of it pulling him towards the direction Helena went.
What had this woman done to him?
Helena didn’t want the evening to end. The prospect of retiring to her chambers, alone with her thoughts, did not appeal.
Especially not after her interaction with the Duke in the library.
She could still feel the faint heat of his presence, the closeness of him, the way the air had seemed to hum between them. Her heart still stumbled at the memory of his voice, low and steady, and she couldn’t quite untangle the rush of heat he provoked within her. She had fled, of course, but the echo of that moment lingered, stubborn and insistent, like a small, uninvited spark.
At the abbey, she would have been sitting in the dark on her bed, awaiting the bell to ring for nighttime prayers. She wouldn’t even have been able to read, because the girls had no access to candles, torches, or any form of light.
To be able to make polite conversation while eating and drinking her fill was more than she’d had in a long while.
It turned out that Amelia was quite good at playing the harpsichord. She played it with joy and competence.
Helena swayed from side to side, tapping her glass of brandy against her thigh as she tried to see if she recognized the tune. Before his death, her father was wont to invite various artists and scientists to the manor house, including musicians, so that they could showcase their skills.
In hindsight, Helena had to wonder if those encounters were part of his work for the Crown.
