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“Thank me?”
“My daughter—she returned from the outing to the shop so…so pleased.” Seeing her look of confusion, the woman glanced back to make sure they were still alone. “Pen is full of light. Of life. Of ideas. She cannot be contained. This is not something everyone understands about a young woman, yes?”
Helen nodded, allowing that. The woman’s words were delivered with love rather than judgment, but she still wasn’t sure what she meant.
“Penelope has many friends. But her English friends, they understand only so much about her. She is not completely English. Nor is she like many of her Greek friends. At her age, all her friends are married or planning weddings, but this is not on Pen’s mind now.”
“I’m not surprised she’s well-liked by many. I greatly enjoyed her company. As you said, she is full of light. What alovelyway to describe her.”
“A mother can only hope that her children will find friends who see their special light. You arrived in this country only a short time ago, yet two of my children, they have some connection to you, eh? Nicholas, he has promised our family’s protection. Pen, she returns from her time with you shining bright.”
Swallowing, Helen found herself speechless, both from the woman’s words and her open curiosity.
“You see Penelope’s light. Nicholas’s, as well, no?” Searching Helen’s gaze, she seemed satisfied. “That pleases a mother. Do you see why I wish to thank you, then? To see my children’s interest and delight—it is no small matter to me.”
“I enjoyed the outing with Pen, as much as she! There’s no need for thanks, not by paying for my gowns.”
The tigress’s eyes took her in. “You do not wish to owe me.”
“I would oweno one.”
“There is wisdom in that. But there is wisdom in friendship, too, and I meant the gift only as a gesture of friendship. Let us bargain to find the place, eh?”
“The place?”
Nodding briskly, she gestured. “Where we both see the gesture of friendship, and you do not owe me.”
Laughing, Helen couldn’t hide her surprise or her gratification. To speak so frankly was unusual—but refreshing. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“Add some funds to your donation to the cathedral.”
The inconsequential sum that she suggested made Helen shake her head, and when she countered with a greater one, Sirena accepted and took her arm. “There. We are both satisfied, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, let’s go before Pen convinces your brother to take her to China!”
Helen laughed, envisioning that conversation taking place, though the sound trailed off as the anticipation of seeing Nicholas gripped her.
They walked into a drawing room so massive and grand it was a feast for the senses. Portraits and landscape paintings in gilt frames graced silk-covered walls, and busts and statues stood atop pedestals, all illuminated by six massive crystal chandeliers.
Sirena and Helen paused upon entering; the others weren’t sitting in any of the various groupings of silk brocade settees or velvet chairs. Sirena murmured to herself in Greek, sounding surprised but pleased, and led her by the arm deeper into the room. “Come, they’re on the Turkish cushions!”
Helen’s eyebrows rose as she took in the scene in the back corner of the room. Half-reclined on his side atop colorful, cushioned mats on the floor, Nicholas examined the two women making their way across the room.
Elijah, similarly reclined, conversed with an eager-looking Penelope, who herself leaned against a dark-red and deep-turquoise bolster. Surrounding the nook of cushions and pillows, metal lanterns cast warm light through intricate cutouts.
Before reaching the cushions, Helen realized she couldn’t recline comfortably so low to the ground. As it was, she felt as though she could spill out of her bodice at any moment.
“Sirena, I’m afraid that in this gown…”
“I understand.” Though she didn’t slow, she patted her arm. “Instead of joining them, will you visit myatelierupstairs? My painting studio? Pen shared, did she not, that I stayed home to work on one of my canvases earlier this week?”
“Yes, she did! And yes, I happily accept.”
As they approached, Elijah was explaining the Cohong—the guild of Chinese merchants licensed to trade with foreigners.
Vassilis frowned. “Alltrade is conducted only with these few merchants?”
