Signa wished she could see Marjorie’s face. Wished she could see anything as Marjorie answered, “I’ve done everything in my power, Byron. Yet even in her death, Lillian still holds his soul. I cannot get through to him.”
“Then change that.” There was such resentment in his tone that Signa flinched, glad for once that Sylas’s body was there to steady her. One of his hands found purchase on her waist as he leaned over her to watch the scene unfold. Now that she’d noticed it, she struggled not to focus on every twitch of his fingers and shift in his body and to instead pay attention to what was happening outside the closet.
“Have you lost all your charm, woman?” Byron set his palms flat upon the table and leaned in. “Should he let this business fail, Percy will be left with nothing. He will be made a laughingstock and left with no prospects. I can’t watch that happen to him, and I know you feel the same. Elijah has children—two, still, no matter what he may think. We must get him to realize that, before I can no longer fix his mess.”
“Have you forgotten Lillian so easily?” There was a chill in Marjorie’s voice that stole heat from the room and rendered Byron silent. “I know you haven’t—the entire town knew your feelings for her.”
“Lillian is unforgettable.” Byron’s voice dropped so low that Signa had to press her ear against the door to hear it. “Even so, we cannot allow my brother to throw everything away and chase after her.”
“He must mourn her—”
“He has mourned! It’s time for him to dust himself off before he damns this family. There’s little I can do when he refuses to offer so much as his signature. If he won’t give the business to Percy, convince him to give it to me. I’d take better care of it anyway, just as I would have taken better care of her.”
Every muscle in Signa’s body began to quiver at the heavy silence in the air. There was sweat along the back of her neck and down her back, but she paid it little mind.
“What,” Marjorie inquired at last, “are you asking of me?”
There was no hesitation in Byron’s response. “My brother is a lonely man, Marjorie. And lonely men are… susceptible. Especially to a woman’s wiles.”
“What are you implying?” Her fingers curled against the table. “Speak straight with me, Byron.”
Byron ran a thumb and forefinger down his dark mustache, taking the time to gather his wits. “You and my brother have had relations in the past. I’d have thought you’d jump at the opportunity to be with him—he could make quite the life for you.”
The chair screeched against the obsidian floor as Marjorie stood. “How dare you? You may have spent your life pining over a lost love, Byron, but I will not degrade myself to such shame.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you—”
“Offended me?” Marjorie’s laugh was like the shot of a pistol, sharp and halting. “You have called into question my very virtues. You have implied I am little more than a whore, and Elijah a puppet to be played with. You’ve more than offended me, sir. For the sake of the children, I will continue to try to speak to Elijah, but it won’t be to help you. I want you to stay away from Percy.”
Byron rose as well. “I will do no such thing. If you care about that boy, then you’ll do as I ask. There’s more than one way to ruin him, Miss Hargreaves.”
There was a beat before she responded, her words shakier now. “Percy has done nothing wrong.”
Byron rolled his shoulders back, preening in his victory. “I will not see my family’s legacy fall over the death of some woman. Elijah must stop neglecting his duties.”
“How callous you’ve become, Byron. God, how I wish she could see you now.”
The slap was so loud that Sylas covered Signa’s mouth and pulled her against his chest as she gasped from the surprise of it. Signa could only imagine how much it must have burned, and every part of her ached to throw open the closet door and go after Byron. To hurt him for hurting Marjorie.
On shaky feet, Marjorie clutched her cheek in one hand. With the other, she took hold of her coat. “It’s time you grow up and stop competing with your brother. Lost as he may be right now, he will always be the better man.” She spat on the floor, then left. Signa desperately hoped she would take the carriage and leave Byron stranded, but Byron cursed and followed after her, slamming the door shut behind him.
Signa was too numbed by surprise to move as the silence settled into her bones. Had Marjorie and Elijah been together before? It would explain their familiarity. Whether it had happened before Elijah was married or after, it was a scandal nonetheless. Even so, Signa was beginning to understand the appeal of illicit attraction. After a moment, her thoughts returned to the firmness of Sylas’s body against hers, and to imagining things she had no business imagining, especially when it was already so hellishly hot in the tiny closet.
Fortunately, once they heard the rattle of a carriage rolling down the street, Sylas popped the coat closet door open and Signa burst out in desperate need of fresh air. She wanted nothing more than to strip out of her clothing, sweat slicked and stuffy, but settled for removing the cloak and tossing it at him. Signa had never been more grateful for the dark as she wondered whether he was thinking about her body as much as she was about his.
“I feel like we really bonded in there.” His tone was teasing, confirming her suspicions. “I daresay I now know you better than I’ve ever known anyone.” And then he stilled, as if realizing he’d given away a piece of information he didn’t intend to, and he turned away while clearing his throat.
“He hit her,” Signa whispered, dazed and eager for a change of subject.
Sylas nodded, adjusting his gloves. “He did.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“To be frank, I think it’s wise to fear more for Byron’s well-being than for Miss Hargreaves. I find that nothing is as terrifying as a woman scorned. And did you see her face? Positively murderous. Now”—he held out a hand—“enough of that. While we’re here, let’s find out what other secrets this place is hiding.”
TWENTY
DESPITE THEIR SITUATION—OR PERHAPS BECAUSE OF IT—SIGNA couldn’t stop the thrill that surged through her as Sylas took her hand and pulled her deeper into Grey’s. Just that morning she’d been sipping tea, living out her dream of participating in high society. She’d expected that gathering to fill the lonely void within her, yet all it had done was make her realize how much harder she had to work, and how much more she had to learn and mold herself to be acceptable. Yet with Sylas, her shoulders finally eased and her body thrummed with life.
With him, there was no worry of anyone scrutinizing her every move. She could just be.
Their night together felt like a restart. Like filling her lungs with a deep breath. She let Sylas lead, trying to settle the pattering of her heart as he picked up an oil lamp and led her to the office. She needed to get ahold of herself—in addition to their differing statuses, she barely knew Sylas. Rather than let her mind stir with thoughts of handsome young men, she needed to focus on the task at hand.