Silent Hearts

Silent Hearts

Priscilla Grace · Ongoing · 30.6k Words

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Introduction

" I Think... "
He scanned my face searching for any sign of genuine emotion before finishing his sentence
" I Think... I can learn to...love you "
Set in 1800s Regency England.
Helena Humphrie is a passionate woman that yerns for true love but, her insecurities hold her back and keeps her fully invested in her studies. Arriving upon her second season her family notices the cold feet she had with finding a husband and come up with a plan with life long friends, The Sinclairs.
Charles Sinclair is a well know womanizer, rake if you will, that doesn't plan on settling down anytime soon. Allowing his clouded mind hold him back from finding true love his family worries as he is the eldest of three sons. His family then decides to take matters into their own hands and come up with a plan with `life long friends, The Humphries.

Chapter 1

“ Just finishing this one last page of my studies! I will just be a moment!” I shouted in annoyance in response to my mother whom has been badgering me the past hour. What does a girl have to do for some peace and quiet around here? I hate the feeling of being rushed at the best of times, but especially when it's something important to me. At my response my mother stomped into the room and ushered my lady in waiting, Braelia, towards me.

 “Helena, your nose is always in your studies. I never ask much of you, so will you just please make haste; the Sinclairs are very punctual.”

 I sighed and rolled my eyes at her caution as she begins her famous rant and don't bother with responding myself. I make my way over to Braelia.

 “-a lady Helena, you are a lady-”

 My mother took a seat on my bed as I sat at my vanity to allow my hair to be done. As she comes to stand behind me she sighs, and places her hands gently on my upper arms.

 “You know I do not intend to be harsh Helena, I love you girls with all my heart - “

 As her voice begins to lower, I cut her off and turn to look at her in the mirror, resting my hands on-top of hers.

 “ Mother, it is fine. I understand how important this dinner is for you,” *even if I don't know why it's so important to you*, I thought bitterly. I hate seeing her stress almost as much as I hate being kept in the dark.

 “I will not ruin this for you mama,” I beam at her sincerely. She gives me a soft smile and rubs my hands when I can tell she is biting her tongue, holding something back*. Almost.*

 “ Mum?” I offer sweetly, but she shakes her head as she's done everytime I've attempted to pry details of this dinner from her.

 “Nothing darling I know how you feel about saccharine displays, I'll leave you to get ready, then. I will see you down for dinner, soon?” She adds, as if I would really go back to my studies at this point.

 I smile and nod in response, and she makes her way to the door, taking a pause before leaving, and closing the door behind her on the way out. Listening for the sound of her footsteps retreating, I turn my gaze to Braelia in the mirror.

 “Was it just me or is my mother definitely more than just a bit nervous about this dinner?”

 Braelia and I shared identical smirks before giggling as she resumes her work on my hair. As she tosses and tugs my hair at my tresses, pinning and clipping here and there, I let my mind wander the same track it has since word arrived from the Sinclairs: *Why is this dinner so important ?*

The Sinclair’s have been lifelong friends of my mother and father. My mother and Clara had been friends since they were young children. They were from neighboring families, both growing up without siblings.. When they entered society in their first season, they met my father and Frederick, who were also best friends, having met in boarding school. To make a long, ordinary story short it was love at first sight for all of them and here we all are. Surely by now there is no need for such formality and frantic emotions?

 I sigh at my own endless questioning just as Braelia clears her throat.

 “Is everything to your liking, my lady?” she gestures to my hair and gives it a little fluff. *************Perfection, as always.*************

 “You never fail to make me feel beautiful, poppet,” I assure, to which she, of course shakes her head.

 “Your beauty is apparent to all who can see, my lady. My work is minimal compared to your inherent elegance and grace.” She always knows exactly what to say. I give myself one last look of admiration before standing to evaluate the jewels she's selected for the evening. 

   Laid across the dressing screen was a blush pink chemise with french embroidery, paired with a shawl of the same lace. I had a choice to pair my dress with a string of freshwater pearls and matching earrings that dangled ever so slightly from my lobes, or a delicate sterling silver chain with a simple diamond pendant at the center also with matching earrings. I finger the pearls dotingly, knowing that the latter option is only a pretense on behalf of Braelia. **************************I will always favor pearls,************************** I think as I shoot her a knowing look.

 Braelia nods in agreement before picking up the necklace and gesturing for me to move my hair so she can clip on the pearls. As I hear the tiny ******clink******, I reach my hand out for the earrings so I can put them on myself. Once both earrings are securely clasped, clear of possible tangles, I turn to take another look at myself, but the longer I look the bigger the pit in my stomach grows.

 “Mistress Helena, are you sure you’re alright?”

 I free myself of the creeping tendrils of insecurity to shoot her a dazzling smile in the mirror before turning back around to face her.

 “Just admiring your work once more, I feel amazing,” I shoot her another smile

 She turns rosy and nods in acknowledgment, and makes her way to the door suggesting it's time we head down for dinner. We exit, Braelia following behind me respectfully, and are descending the staircase when they announce Sinclair's arrival. The greetings begin not soon after and I reach the end of the staircase just in time to hear:

 “ HELENA !” I rush forward towards my favorite Sinclair

 “ JAMES !” I return as we clutch onto each other, the pit in my stomach disappearing if only for a moment. James spins us around as we shar tumbling laughter.

 “Can we all expect such a warm welcome?”

 We stop spinning, and I leave his embrace to be greeted with another, much more maternal, warm hug.

 “Helena Humphrie, you grow in beauty with every visit.”

 I smile up at Clara Sinclair, a woman who has been like a second mother to me since birth. Clara and my mother have always been close, treating James and I, having been born mere minutes apart. As Clara holds me under her arm in a side hug, I greet her husband, Frederick Sinclair with a small curtsy and grin. Before I can relay my salutations, I feel my hand being raised to the lips of none other than..

 “I must say, I have to agree with Mother, Helena.”

“It's nice to see you, too, Theo,” I reply unamused as he smirks and releases my hand. I feel my sister, Emilia nudge me as she appears at my side, as James scolds his brother.

 “Theo, enough of your games,” James warns, at which Theo shoots me a wink and grins smugly at his brother.

 “Jealous, brother? Already picked the cutlery and napkins for the wedding, then?”

 “Enough, the both of you. Behaving this way in front of our hosts as if you don't know any better. Apologize at once!”Clara cuts them off before James can respond.

 Theo and James both turt o bow their heads and apologize to my mother and father, to which Emilia and I giggle at.

 “Mind yourselves as well, ladies,” my mother warns, clearly annoyed by the goings on of our greetings. My father, however, very clearly struggling to hold in his laughter, letting out a deep chuckle that infected Mr. Sinclair, and spread to myself and Emilia, leaving James annoyed and Theo much too satisfied with his brother's reaction to even acknowledge he'd also been chided. Before either of them could carry on further, a maid announced that dinner was served, and so we were ushered into the dining room. 

    I noticed quickly that our mothers fell behind us all. One thing was apparent about my mother and Clara Sinclair, and it was when they were scheming. We could all hear their not-so-silent exchange, during which my sister hooked our arms together, “Just ignore them you know how mum and Mrs. Sinclair can be.”

 I nod in agreement, as her voice lowers to a whisper.

 “I’m pretty sure it has to do with their eldest, Charles.” A certain giddiness creeps into her tone as she continues.

 “I overheard a conversation between our parents and the Sinclairs, and it appears our man Charles is having trouble finding a wife.”

 “Fancy that, who would have ever considered,” I whisper back slyly.

 There it is, the pit in my stomach makes itself known at the mere mention of weddings and matrimony.

 “Can you believe it!?” Emilia nearly gasps as she pushes the matter further.

 As we step into the dining room and are finally seated I respond barely above a whisper leaning over to her.

 “Perhaps it's not so much that he's struggling to find one but that he's not in search of one?”

 I stated matter of factly to which my sister just rolled her eyes and shot me an “oh really?” smile. We fixed ourselves for supper and I couldn’t help but compare us as I often have lately. I am going into my second season, my sister going into her third, and we can't help but be so different. She is tall, beautiful, and just seems to have been born to be a wife and mother. I envy her for her natural beauty and the way people flock to her. Why she isn’t married already remains a mystery to us all, every season thus far she’s had suitors lined out the door. 

    Before I could finish with my own thoughts, the doors to the dining room open and we all go silent with confusion waiting for what is about to happen next.

 “ Pardon the interruption, Sir Charles Sinclair.”

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