Who had dared lay a finger on her?
Silas’s heart raged, demanding retribution as it crashed around behind his rib cage.
Benedict rose to face him, planting his hands on the desk. Meeting the force of his glare head on.
“This is why I called for you, Silas. You are the only one I can trust. And the only one who cares so for Honora.”
Silas frowned, grinding his teeth in frustration while refusing to acknowledge the last statement. They had been dancing around that particular topic for years.
“Spit it out, man.”
“Someone took a shot at Nora in Hyde Park this morning. The bullet grazed her arm, and she fell from Samson and was knocked out. She lost consciousness and then woke long enough to make it home with Fobs.”
Benedict balled his fists, thumping them on the wood hard enough to rattle the joint. “The bastards were there, they cut the hair from her head while she was alone and defenceless. They could have-”
Silas narrowed his eyes as he gazed solemnly at his friend. “What have you done, Benedict?”
He had never thought he would ever ask the man a question of that nature.
Benedict was driven, straight-laced and good. An honourable man who was seen as a thorn in the side by many in parliament. Never had Silas considered that Benedict could fall into some nefarious scheme.
“I haven’t done anything. Rather, it’s what I haven’t done,” muttered Benedict, falling again into his chair.
“Stop talking in riddles, for Pete’s sake man,” growled Silas in frustration.
“There is a petition put forward for the inclosure of common lands bordering the Warwick estate in Northamptonshire. I have not agreed to support the motion, as I cannot condone the loss of livelihood for the tenants and small landowners who would be forced to vacate. I smell something foul in the underhanded way it is being done; there is more at stake there than grabbing a few parcels of land.”
He sniffed, staring down into his empty glass. “Of course, I can’t prove it is the Earl of Warwick behind the threat. That’s rather the point, I think.”
“I see,” said Silas, not seeing at all. “How is Honora now?”
That was a far more important question.
Benedict pursed his lips, reaching for his glass. “She is sleeping still, but I am scared to leave her alone under the circumstances. There is no way I can agree to submit to this blackmail and they are so damnably brazen, it is likely they will try again. And soon.”
He stared at Silas grimly. “I want you to keep watch over her, escort her if she needs to leave the house. I need to get to the bottom of this, but I can’t keep her in my sights and set this right at the same time.”
Silas felt his chest tighten at the thought of being once again in Honora’s company.
The last few years, since her debut, he had kept well away from the temptation she presented to him.
“Of course. You know you need not even ask. I will come and keep watch over her every day until you are satisfied the danger has passed,” said Silas.
“I will need you to stay here, at the house, while I am gone. I need to go to Durham, and I am loath to leave her unprotected at night.”
Silas sighed but nodded in agreement.
His torture would be complete, then.
“I know how you feel about her, Silas. This is why I am entrusting you with this matter.”
“You know nothing, Benedict,” growled Silas, his hands balling into fists where they rested on his knees.
Benedict rolled his eyes. “I see you are as stubborn as ever. Never mind, I have no time to argue with you regarding my sister’s happiness.”
Three
When Honora woke again,it was morning, and her brother was asleep in a chair beside her bed. Benedict’s long, lean frame was crumpled up in the feminine seat, legs stretched out before him as he snored softly against the embroidered cushion he had stuffed behind his head.
