“I’ve sent a note the modiste.” Amelia burst into Helena’s chambers, buzzing with excitement. “And to the shoemaker as well, to make you a pair of lovely slippers for your wedding.” She did a little hop, clapping her hands. “Are you excited? I’m so excited! We’re going to be sisters!”
Helena shrugged. “Well… It’s all happening a bit too quickly. I hardly know what to feel.”
Amelia frowned. “But you are happy, are you not?” she asked anxiously.
“Happy?” Helena looked away. “I… I don’t know if happy is the word for it, dear. I just saw my uncle, whom I haven’t seen since he dropped me off at the abbey, I have no idea what will happen to my brother now… So… I don’t know if happy is the word I’d use at the moment.”
“Oh. Yes. That is right. Pardon me, I just…” the girl’s voice trailed off, and Helena instantly felt bad for unloading her whirlwind thoughts on the poor creature.
So, she pinned a smile on her face and took Amelia’s hand, pulling her along to the sewing room.
“Come, you were telling me about the modiste. Will she bring her own bolts of cloth? Will we match the colors of the coat of arms? Tell me what kind of wedding this is to be.”
Amelia’s face instantly lit up. “Well, Silas said it is to be fast, so we shall probably simply adjust what we have. My mother had some lovely formal gowns. You must be the same size as her, judging from her portrait. I’m sure we can get something beautiful for you to wear.”
Helena frowned. “Oh, I don’t know about wearing your mother’s clothes. Shouldn’t they be preserved for you?”
“But I want you to!” Amelia favored her with puppy eyes and Helena had no choice but to concede.
“Fine. I suppose borrowing one gown couldn’t hurt.”
“Yes, and Madame Montclair will make you a trousseau of your own for your honeymoon!”
Helena flushed. The rational part of her knew there would be no honeymoon. Still, the other, more hidden part of her wondered if… if she’d get to feel Silas’s touch again.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” she said in a low, sheepish voice, dismissing her naïve thoughts.
Amelia gave her an incredulous look. “What? Of course it’s necessary! Don’t be silly.”
“You’re getting married? To a potential witness? Is this the best time for that, Highcliff?” the Lord Chancellor asked him.
Silas blew out a breath. “She has no guardian to speak for her. It would be very easy for her uncle to claim her as we speak. So, for the sake of the case as well as my honor, there’s no other route I can take.”
Benedict cleared his throat. “The girl is in danger, my lord. This is the correct course of action.”
The Lord Chancellor looked from one to the other, his brow furrowed as if he was unconvinced. “Very well then, I shall get you the license today. You’re sure about this uncle of hers? He is the link we’ve been looking for?”
They both nodded.
“Our men acquired evidence to support that claim, yes. The way he came barging into my castle, trying to take the witness by force, points to his desperation. I think that if we push him—and this marriage should do just that—he will make a mistake, and we will be there to catch him at it,” Silas said.
The Lord Chancellor got to his feet. “Very well then. Wait here.”
Silas nodded in relief. The sooner he and Helena got married, the safer she would be. Getting a special license would put them one step closer.
He turned to Benedict. “I don’t suppose you are licensed to conduct a marriage ceremony?”
Benedict threw back his head and laughed. “No, I’m not. But never fear, I know who to speak to.”
Silas clapped him on the back. “You always come through for me.”
Benedict gave him a sidelong glance. “As do you. But now that you are marrying, I shall have to start thinking of finding my own bride.”
Silas laughed. “I have a feeling your mistress would be quite upset about that.”
“Ah,” he waved his hand dismissively, “she knows the ways of these things.”
Silas made a noncommittal sound.
