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The shock Theodore felt when he heard the name was much more than he anticipated. He wondered if it was ever possible for his brother to commit such an act. But Helen was sure of it, much more than anything. She cried as she told him everything, including how she came to the conclusion.
“He tried to touch me again,” she wailed, tears sheeting her beautiful face, “but my aunt was there to help me. I know you do not believe me, but I am sure —”
“I believe you,” he croaked, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Theodore knew that Helen had no reason to lie. She had never met Sebastian before, and she spoke with a conviction that was hard to ignore. But he was angry, and Helen’s fury was nothing compared to his. His mind was roiling with thoughts of how to grapple with the situation. After not seeing his brother for two years, he hoped that his brother had not turned out this way because of him.
He pulled her into an embrace, comforting her. Theodore’s heart welled with conflicting emotions. He felt his heart flutter once again, setting his body on fire, but he also felt an icy calm that was filled with purpose.
“But we cannot hand him over to the Bow Street runners without proper evidence,” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair.
She nodded, astonished that Theodore believed her story. Even when she told him everything, it sounded strange to her own ears. Helen understood why Kate exploded when she heard.
“This is what we would do...” Theodore trailed off as they hatched a plan.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Helen crept along the walls, her mind processing everything around her into a blur. Her heart raced in her chest at the thought of being attacked again, so she hitched the candle higher to spread the light through the darkness. It was dim but more than enough. She suddenly wished that she was back at home, looking for Sonya so she could have some leftover cake.
Turning under the archway, she headed toward the library. She had been unable to sleep that night, and she desperately wanted a respite from her thoughts. All night, Helen was thinking about how she might escape from Wallington. Sebastian was on the loose, and she was scared that he might come for her again.
Steadying her breathing, she took the grand flight of stairs that led to both the study and the exquisite library. Helen waited at the top, swiveling around to make sure that no one was following her or hiding in the darkness. When she was sure that she was perfectly safe, she continued her journey to the library.
Turning to her left, she traced her steps through the hallways, until she met the archway from the day before. She lifted the candle higher, spreading the flickering light into the darkness. All she saw was the door that led to her destination.
Helen went to the shelf, tracing dust off the spine of books. She recalled Theodore’s preference for Byron and Percy Shelley. Picking a small bound book of the latter, she settled at the desk and opened the pages.
As Theodore said, the pages were filled with a thick heady scent that further drew her into them. She read slowly, ingesting the words from the page. When the heat prevailed, she shrugged off her pinafore, leaving on her chemise of florid silk to cool her body.
She mouthed the words softly, letting them settle on her mind as she played with the lace trim of her sleeves. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she nestled comfortably for as long as she wanted.
That was when she heard it — the raspy breathing she hated so much.
Sebastian pulled himself out of the darkness, his lithe form throwing spidery shadows on the walls. Helen’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched him saunter toward her. Like before, his eyes were dark and lifeless. His movements were jerky but soft like he was being pulled on a string. As he walked to her position, Helen heard no footsteps.
Helen shook on the chair, unable to move. Trepidation danced numerous waltzes in her mind, holding her captive once again. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and shudders wracked her body.
“I should have known,” he said softly, his voice heavy and bouncing off the walls, “that you would come looking for me once again.”
“I am not looking for you,” she retorted, sharp and defiant.
Helen wanted him to know that she no longer feared him, even though her body was shuddering almost violently now. She stood up and drifted away from the desk, farther into the darkness while holding the candle.
“Come now, we both know that you want me, Helen. Theodore never satisfied you, but I can. Tell me that you do not want my hand winding in your chemise to play out the fantasies you have in your mind?”
She shuddered, picking a book and throwing it at him. He just moved out of the way, so the incoming projectile to hit the shelf and dropped with a thud. Sebastian’s gaze was on her as he vaulted over the desk, edging her into a corner.
“I love it when my women are feisty,” he exclaimed. “It fills me with even more debauchery than I let on.”
He was a few feet away now, and Helen could hear his raspy breathing. She thrust the candle his way, hot wax spilling out. But like before, he moved away from all her futile attacks.
“I want you to tell me why you fight when it is glaring that you want me too much?”
Helen’s back was against the shelf, and the books pricked her back painfully. Tears slipped from her eyes as Sebastian continued to advance toward her. His body was against hers in a moment, and she felt the hardness of his muscles press against her.
“I don’t want you!” she yelled.
Helen screamed, and it was all a blur of motion. Lights came on in the library, and Theodore was right there, tackling his brother. They fought, and since Sebastian was trying to flee, Theodore had the upper hand. The servants helped too, and Perceval brought a rope to restrain him.
