* * *
Later that night, Silas strode the darkened corridors of the Seton townhouse with restless agitation. He did not carry a candle, preferring to stay hidden in the shadows while he did his rounds.
After dinner, at which Honora was again notably absent, Silas had received a note from Benedict implying that his man in town had found something of interest and that he should be prepared for more nastiness to come.
Too late,thought Silas bitterly, crumpling the note in his fist.
There had also been a warning that, with Parliament closing in the next two weeks, Benedict was sure time was not on their side.
The bastard responsible for hurting Honora was surely cooking up another scheme right this moment.
Silas silently paced the length of the formal drawing room, testing each window in turn as he moved from room to room. It irked him that someone had infiltrated the Seton household so easily, even though it was apparent that the bounder had not simply snuck in through a window.
If only a secured latch could keep the threat at bay.
No, the perpetrator must have slipped inside from the mews while the staff were distracted, or, even worse, one of them had been bribed.
The newspaper clipping on the bed detailing Honora’saccidentin Hyde Park had been a frightening reminder that she was not safe even in her own home.
It was completely unacceptable.
As late as it was, Silas knew sleep would not come to him after the events of the day.
But, at least Honora was able to rest.
She needed her rest, as it was clear she was still weakened by her fall. Earlier that night, Silas had watched her lock herself into her room with approval after her maid had seen to her toilette.
He had certainlynotlooked at the way the golden plait of hair fell down over her shoulder or the innocently ruffled layers of the voluminous nightgown that did absolutely nothing to hide the luscious curves of her form from his eyes.
Silas was surprised to discover himself in the corridor outside Honora’s chamber as if the thoughts of her had magically beckoned him to her side.
Grunting, he shook his head at his foolishness.
She is not for you,he sternly reminded himself.
But, he could make himself useful to her, and he was there with a purpose after all.
He walked to his room across the hall and found a relatively comfortable armchair, hauling the piece into his arms and carrying it out into the corridor where he placed it quietly across the way from her door.
He couldn’t sleep, but he could keep watch.
There was no way in hell the fiend would make it past him tonight.
Seven
Honora wokewith a burning desire to get out of the house at all costs.
She felt fine, perhaps with a small lingering bit of bruising around the temple, but otherwise almost back to normal.
Certainly well enough to get some air away from the stifling feeling of being watched that had followed her around the house since the gruesome discovery in her room.
It was no less disturbing to think that someone had been amused at the scare they knew she would have had at the grisly sight on her bed.
She found Silas in the music room, idly picking out a tune on the pianoforte, one arm resting distractedly on the top of the instrument.
“Silas, I want to go out.”
He turned, eyeing her modish lavender and white walking outfit with alarm.
