“Wonderful,” he said with another silly bow, adding a bit of levity to lighten the weight of the conversation. Drawing up his arm, he motioned for Helen. “If I might.”
She paused only a moment before sliding her hand through his arm, and though Silas had to slouch to reach her, he felt as though walking on clouds as they made their way across the crowd to where Hatch and Miss Delmonte stood.
“A certain young lady has done me the great honor of agreeing to accompany me on a drive,” he said, and Helen gave little hint that his honeyed words pleased her, but he thought there was a glimmer of joy in her gaze. Turning his attention to Hatch, he added. “The groom should have the carriages ready by now. Would you accompany Miss Delmonte and the others home in my stead?”
“Of course,” said Hatch with a nod.
“I am certain we can manage, sir,” added Miss Delmonte with a bob.
Where the overdone formalities of the past few moments had lightened his heart, Miss Delmonte’s made it sink. Yes, it was for the best, but it still bothered him to see her firmly in the role of governess. Hatch slanted her a sideways glance and then sent Silas a single raised brow. Now was not the time to address such things, so he turned around and led Helen to the street.
As many of the parishioners lived nearby, most walked to services on Sunday. However, there were a few (such as himself) who not only had the means to pay for a carriage but lived far enough away to justify the use of it. His vehicle was not yet awaiting him, but he was grateful for the moment to speak to Helen. For all his jesting earlier, there were things he needed to say.
Squatting low, Silas took her hand in his. “I am glad you agreed to join me.”
She lifted a single shoulder in a lazy shrug, but there was something in her gaze that belied the dismissiveness of his movement. And that gave him hope.
“And I need to apologize to you for what happened after the play,” he said. “I hadn’t meant to lose my temper, and I am sorry for the scene.”
“Why are you so mean to Aunt Ruth? She is so kind to us, but you’re always so harsh with her.”
Silas sighed, and his knees wanted him to straighten, but he remained crouched before her. “Your aunt and I have a troubled history, and I don’t know if she will ever warm to me.”
Helen frowned, her brow worrying in a manner that was unnatural on an eight-year-old. “I don’t like hearing you two argue. If you’d only leave her be, all would be well.”
Temper flared, threatening to grab hold of his tongue, but Silas knew too well how poorly that would go. Giving himself a brief moment to rein in the impulse, Silas smiled (though a touch more tightly than intended). “I shall try to do better. But the more important thing I wish to know is if you can forgive me for what happened. Can we begin again?”
Helen blinked at that and watched him for several long, silent moments in which Silas was certain his heart would pound free of his ribs. Then a slow but certain nod. Silas broke into a wide grin, not bothering to hide just how much that made him want to jump for joy. He held his daughter’s gaze and brushed a gentle thumb on her chin. He hadn’t spent much time with any of his children when they were babes, but he’d managed some weeks at home when Helen was naught but a few months old, and he’d often held her as she slept, his finger brushing against that very sweet and tender spot.
“Do you know how much I love you, my dear Helen?” he whispered. “I am not always good at saying so, but you are precious to me.”
Helen’s eyes widened, and Silas’s heart twisted at the surprise that filled her expression. No daughter ought to doubt such a thing, and his heart sank like a stone at the thought that she didn’t fully believe it. But beneath the shock, there was a glimmer of longing in her gaze. It was the look of someone desperate to believe something, though they suspected it may be a lie. He couldn’t bear to see it one more moment, so he drew her into his arms.
“I love you, Helen,” he whispered once more as she buried her face into his neck, her arms drawing tight around him as she clutched him as firmly as he did her.
Chapter 23
The phaeton rolled down the street towards them, led by the groom, and Silas was forced to release his daughter. Helen straightened and stepped away as though nothing had happened, though Silas swore her gaze was a little less strident when turned on him.
“Prepare the other carriage for Miss Delmonte and the others, Thomas. They will wish to leave soon,” he said as the groom tugged at the brim of his hat.
Turning to his daughter, Silas reached forward to help her into the phaeton, but he paused at the sound of his name.
“Mr. Byrnes, thank heavens I was able to grab you before you left,” said Mrs. Talley as she hurried to his side. “I wanted to tell you how grateful I was for your recommendation. I’ve struggled to get my hands on all the installments, but I’ve enjoyed the ones I’ve read.”
“I am glad to hear that, Mrs. Talley,” he said with a nod. “I’ve heard rumor that they are publishing it all in a single volume, though I cannot confirm when precisely. I’ve got Mr. Pincher’s bookshop in Portsmouth searching for it.”
“If you do purchase it, I would be so grateful if you would lend it to me so I might read Boz’s installments altogether,” she said with a wide smile.
“Certainly,” he replied with a quick dip of the head. “Now, you must excuse me—”
Mrs. Talley’s eyes widened, her head bobbing as she stepped backward. “Of course. I am sorry to have kept you, Mr. Byrnes. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Silas turned to Helen to find her watching the pair of them with eyes that were far too knowing for his comfort. But before he could say a word, Mrs. Talley stepped forward.
“This must be your Helen,” she said with a warm smile. “She is every bit as lovely as you said.”
Helen’s gaze darted to Silas at that, and he could’ve sworn a faint blush colored her cheeks. Placing an arm around her, he drew his daughter closer.
