“Out? You must be in jest. You are not setting foot outside this house, it is far too dangerous.”
Honora rested her hands on her hips, lifting her chin defiantly.
“Clearly, it is not safe in this house, either.”
She watched Silas puff himself up with indignation. “As long as you are under my watch, you will be perfectly safe. Do you doubt it?”
Honora smiled in victory. “Of course not, that is why I would like to go out. I am not worried in the slightest, since after all, you will be with me.”
They eyed each other tersely for a moment until Silas blew out a defeated breath.
“Very well. Where would you like to go?”
“The bookshop, please. I have read everything in the library once, and then again. If I am to be made a relative prisoner, then I need something new to read.”
Silas nodded, closing the piano with a sharp thunk. “I will bring a footman along, as a precaution.”
* * *
Soon, Honora was alighted onto the sidewalk outside her favourite bookshop, Hatchard’s, looking lovingly up at the golden signage as Silas stationed a footman at the door to keep watch.
They entered, the welcoming smell of warm paper and beeswax washing over her like a soothing balm as she made her way to the stacks at the rear of the shop floor.
For once, Silas’s intoxicating presence receded to the background as she trailed her fingers lightly over the leather and clothbound spines, searching for her next literary adventure.
Honora had a penchant for thrilling tales, gothic or otherwise, and as she pulled free a novel she had been eyeing, she pondered the irony that she found herself embroiled in a scandal that wouldn’t be amiss in the pages of a book.
She wandered the aisles, adding to her stack of books until she had a tethering tower of volumes balanced precariously in her arms.
Finally, she admitted defeat, grateful that Benedict’s generosity extended to a line of credit with the owner. He knew her far too well.
Silas rounded the corner, catching sight of her struggling with her selection.
He frowned but stepped up to help her, leaning in to take a number of books from her arms, the close confines of the shelves forcing their bodies together with heart-pounding proximity.
Honora sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes unable to resist running over his features as he stared down at her, memorising each detail of his expression as his spicy scent washed over her.
“Thank you,” she managed to murmur, when surprisingly, he didn’t step immediately away.
Instead, he examined her choices, raising an eyebrow at some of the more risqué titles.
“Benedict lets you read these?” he asked mildly, one corner of his mouth hitching up in that almost smile that melted her insides without fail.
“He wouldn’t dare have an opinion on the matter,” she smirked, running her hands lovingly over the books. “Besides, I know he has far racier volumes in his study.”
Silas’s eyes flicked to hers, something alarming flickering in their deep blue depths. “What, pray, would you know about things like that?”
Honora felt her knees weaken at the intensity of his gaze. He had never looked at her quite this way before.
“More than you think,” she stammered, her heart threatening to pound out of her breast at the audacity of the words.
An eyebrow quirked at her response, his eyes falling to her mouth as she breathlessly bit her lip with agitation, but still, Silas didn’t step back.
If anything, he seemed to take up even more space, looming over her as his masculine presence sucked the air from her lungs.
The moment between them dragged on into eternity, as Honora fought valiantly against the urge to reach out and touch him.
Finally, with a shake of his head, Silas stepped away, motioning politely for her to proceed him to the front of the shop.
