The Secret Wallflower Society - Jillian Eaton Page 0,73
her pulse quickened and heat stole between her thighs. “I’m perfectly capable of looking by myself.”
“Yes,” he murmured before he traced the delicate shell of her ear with his tongue. “But what’s the fun in that?”
“I…what was the question?” she gasped as her head lolled back against his chest in helpless surrender.
With a husky laugh, Leo carried her to the base of the stairs. But before he could begin his ascent, Percy appeared at the top. As soon as she saw them standing below, her entire face brightened.
“You’re back!” she cried before she began to race down the steps two at a time in a swirl of violet skirts. “Oh, I’m so pleased to see you.”
Calliope started to squirm. “Leo, let me go.”
“I thought we were going upstairs,” he said sourly.
“There’ll be time for that later.”
“Fine.” Grumbling, he reluctantly set her down, nodded at Percy, and then excused himself. “I’m going to see what there is to eat.”
“Food and lovemaking,” Calliope said fondly as she watched her husband hurry off towards the kitchen. “That’s all he seems to care about anymore.” She grinned at Percy. “It’s absolutely marvelous.”
“I suppose then that there’s no need to ask how the honeymoon went,” the duchess remarked as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “You’re glowing from your head to your feet.”
“Am I?” Calliope said happily. “I guess I am. Marriage is better than I could have ever dreamed. And I…oh,” she exclaimed when a troubled line appeared in the middle of the Percy’s forehead. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel poorly. Of course, not all marriages are–”
“No, no.” Percy cut her off with a shake of her head. “I’m ecstatic for you and Leo. Just because my own marriage hasn’t worked doesn’t mean I cannot be thrilled for yours. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Calliope asked.
Percy sighed. “It’s Helena.”
“Go away.” Dragging a pillow over her face, Helena closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds of incessant pounding on her bedchamber door. “I said, go away!”
“Helena, it’s me.” Calliope’s voice was muffled, but unmistakable. “Won’t you come out? Percy said you’ve been in there for days.”
“It hasn’t been days.”
“Three, at last count,” Percy chimed in. “And you’ve hardly eaten anything at all.”
“I’ve been drinking,” Helena countered.
“Wine doesn’t count.”
“Well, it should.” Throwing the pillow onto the floor, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the blue silk canopy draped over her bed. “Come in. The door isn’t locked.”
She heard the knob turn, and then the rustle of muslin as Calliope and Percy tip toed inside.
“It’s dark as a tomb in here,” Percy noted.
“Wait. Don’t open the – argh,” Helena complained when the duchess threw back the drapes and sunlight spilled into her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Eat,” Calliope said, picking up a piece of cold toast off a serving tray and holding it out. “Then we’ll discuss your life choices, beginning with why you’ve been in hiding and what happened to your hair.”
“My hair?” Helena’S fingers crept self-consciously to her head. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“It looks like a mouse took up residence in it.”
“An entire family of mice,” Percy added as she opened the last drape before turning towards the bed. “Sisters, brothers, mayhap even a cousin or two.”
“Or seven,” said Calliope.
Helena bared her teeth. “If you’ve come in here just to insult me–”
“We’ve come in here because we care about you,” Percy corrected as she sat down beside Helena and gently brushed a snarled tendril behind her ear. “And because I’ve never seen you in such a state.”
“Neither have I. Eat,” Calliope said sternly, thrusting the serving tray at Helena. “Right now. You look as if you’ve lost at least half a stone.”
Because she was hungry, Helena obediently picked up the bread into her mouth. It was dry and plain, but it was food. Calliope poured her a glass of water, which helped the toast go down a bit easier, and by the time she’d finished eating the pounding in her head had marginally subsided.
But the aching in her heart…
Well, that was there to stay.
“Thank you for coming to my aid,” she said, looking at Calliope and Percy in turn. “However, this is not something you can help me with.”
“Let us be the judges of that,” said Percy, reaching across Helena’s lap to grasp her hand. She squeezed it tightly. “What happened? All I know is that Lord Cambridge was here. Then he wasn’t, and you’ve been despondent ever since.”