Her fingers brushed his cheek lightly at first, then settled there, warm and unmistakably real. Her thumb traced a slow, absent-minded stroke along his cheekbone, as though the gesture had occurred to her without permission or plan.
Silas went very still.
No one touched him like this. Not without expectation, not without asking for something in return. Yet there was nothing calculating in her expression. Only a gentle, almost wondering attention, as though she was discovering something fragile rather than claiming it.
He should have stopped her.
Instead, his breath left him in a quiet exhale, and before he quite realized it, he had leaned into her touch. Just enough to feel it more fully, just enough to admit the truth of how much he wanted it.
Her hand fit there too easily.
For a suspended moment, the world narrowed to the warmth of her palm and the slow, careful stroke of her thumb. His eyes fell shut. The tension he always carried loosened, ever so slightly, like a knot eased rather than undone.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Helena smiling, faint and pleased, as though she had coaxed something rare into the open.
“See?” she murmured. “You’re still here.”
The words landed somewhere deep and unguarded.
For a heartbeat, he felt the weight of the barriers he had built around himself, and how easily they might crumble in the presence of someone who saw him. Not as the Duke, not as an agent, not as a protector…but as Silas.
He had never welcomed such acknowledgement before. And yet, for this brief, suspended moment, it was exactly what he wanted.
Gently, he lifted his hand and wrapped his fingers around Helena’s own.
“Helena…” he whispered her name, which came to him as easy as breath.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached the door, and just as Amelia burst into the room, Helena pulled her hand away and stepped back, as though she’d never neared him in the first place.
“Did I miss it?” Amelia asked, and to Silas’s relief, she seemed none the wiser.
“Well, your brother says he’s done for the day,” Helena answered with a slight pout.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Amelia’s shoulders slumped, and she looked very disappointed.
Silas gave a put-upon sigh. “Very well, I shall play another tune.”
“Oh, hurrah!” Amelia pumped her fists, skipping a bit, and grinning at Helena.
They both leaned on the pianoforte, staring intently at him as he chose another music piece and began to play it.
It was a lively aria from Mozart’sDon Giovanni. Silas was taken aback when Helena began to sing along. Her voice, though not practiced, had a surprising warmth to it, blending beautifully with the rich notes of the piano.
“La ci darem la mano…” she began, the melody lilting in the air.
To his astonishment, Amelia joined in on the second line, harmonizing with a delicate soprano that complemented Helena’s voice. The two of them sounded enchanting together, weaving the melody into something truly magical.
As Silas continued to play, he found himself watching them in wonder, until the last notes faded into silence.
There was some applause from the doorway and Silas realized they’d gathered an audience of servants who seemed quite as impressed as he was.
Amelia executed an exaggerated curtsy, which Helena immediately copied, much to the amusement of their audience.
Silas shook his head slowly. “Whatever am I to do with the two of you?”
Chapter Thirteen
“Icannot believe I sang in front of the Duke. Have I lost my mind?”
