Page 23 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

“You do, Mary.” Esther meant every word she’d said to the sweet maid. She needed the young woman at her side, adrift as she was in an unfamiliar world. “You will grow into the position, as I must grow into mine.” Then she offered Mary a reassuring smile. “And just now, this countess wishes very much for a nap. I am quite tired from the day’s events.”

“Yes, my lady. Let me help you.” The girl’s eyes darted once to the door between the earl and countess’s chambers, but she said nothing, and did not look again. Esther tried not to look, either.

Once tucked between her sheets, the curtains drawn over the window, Esther attempted to find some measure of peace in oblivion. Unfortunately, Silas’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, looking as it had when he spoke his vows. At the time she had thought his expression strangely earnest. He had looked almost as though he were striving for something as he spoke, or yearning for his words to be true. There was more than duty and honor in his tone and language. There was something else. Something deeper.

Perhaps hope.

Esther rolled to her side, pulling a pillow to her chest. Hope for what?

Her mind turned back to the vows she had spoken, as she had tried to simply get through the public ordeal of a wedding.

…For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…

Guilt pricked at her conscience, then her heart. The things she promised had not involved her coldness to Silas, her bidding him leave as soon as possible, or hiding from him for the few hours they might actually speak to one another about their joined lives. Of course, she could not see her promise to love coming to fruition any time soon. Love made her too vulnerable to pain when he left, as he inevitably would on the morrow, and likely many times in future.

Suppressing a most unladylike desire to groan, Esther gave her pillow one last firm squeeze before crawling out of her bed. She gave a few yanks to the bell pull and then went searching for her clothing. She found it in her small dressing room and soon had an armful of her most comfortable underthings and a gown. They were not the fine things Diana had insisted she buy during her time in London. Comfort and familiarity were her priorities.

The door opened and Mary came flying inside. “Is something wrong, my lady?” She looked from Esther to the bed with wide eyes.

“I have decided I do not wish to nap,” Esther answered, thrusting her things at Mary. “Help me look presentable. Do you know where the earl is at the moment?”

Mary, bless her, went to work without further hesitation. “His man said he went walking, toward the beach. We were just discussing how fine a day it was for such a jaunt.”

“Perfect.” Esther helped as much as she could, twisting her slightly mussed hair up into a knot behind her head. “A straw bonnet, Mary. Something we just need a pin to secure.”

In moments she had the bonnet, pin, and a spencer pulled over a suitable gown. She found a pair of flat-soled half boots, which were inelegant but perfect for walking across the sand. As a child, she had been permitted to occasionally walk the beach without shoes or stockings. A countess likely should not enjoy the same freedom.

Leaving her room with speed, Esther tried not to concern herself with what the staff might think of their new mistress practically running through the house to get out the rear doors. She skipped across the wide terrace, down the steps into the gardens, and then hastily out the back gate to the beach. As soon as her booted feet hit the sand, she cast her eyes about for some indication of where Silas had gone, even looking down at the ground in case his were the only boot prints to be found. A fresh set of men’s tracks went to the south.

Kicking up sand as she went, Esther held her bonnet to her head with one hand while the other kept her balance as she ran. She saw his figure, still in his elegant wedding clothes, some hundred yards or so ahead of her. He moved slowly enough she had hope of catching him.

After she halved the distance between them, her lungs burning and her run most awkward as her feet sunk and slipped in the sand, she tried calling out to him. The rolling waves drowned out what sound she made. She halved the distance again, and she pulled in a deep breath to call his name, when he stopped and turned.

Her gait slowed and she raised a hand to wave at him. Silas raised his hand as well, then started walking in her direction. Esther tried to catch her breath, watching his approach with some apprehension. Coming after Silas had been an impulse decision; something Diana always said would land Esther in a great deal of trouble. Diana had been right, of course, as Esther’s acting on a moment’s inspiration had led to a necessary marriage.

“Esther,” he called, his voice carrying over the sound of wind and waves. “I thought you were resting.” From their closer distance she could see his eyebrows drawn down enough to make wrinkles appear on his forehead, and his mouth pressed into a straight line after speaking. Had she upset him? Perhaps she had intruded upon much needed solitude.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she shouted to him, taking a few hesitant steps closer. “You are leaving tomorrow. It was wrong of me to waste the time with you.” She waited, body tense, for his response, perhaps a rejection.

Silas came all the way to her before he spoke, his contemplative frown still in place. “I do not want you to tax yourself on my account. It has been a troublesome few weeks for both of us.” They stood almost toe to toe. “Though I will admit that your company is appreciated.”

The knot in her chest loosened. “I am glad to hear it. If not somewhat surprised. I have not exactly been cordial in our limited time together.”

He offered his arm to her and they started walking back the way she had come. For several long moments, neither said a word. Esther took the opportunity to breathe deeply of the briny air, enjoying the way the wind kicked up droplets of water just enough for her to taste the salt occasionally upon her lips. Her family’s home, Woodsbridge, was further inland, but she and her brother had regularly visited their friends near the sea. This place was more like home to her than London had ever been.

“I remember we used to play on this beach for hours,” Silas said at last. “Running all along the shore, searching for crabs, digging pits for buried treasure, and chasing the waves back into the water.”

Esther peered up at him, surprised. “I remember a little of that. My nurse always took me in when she thought I’d had too much sun. But you, Isaac, Jacob, and even the twins, would stay out for hours and hours. Isaac always had a sunburn.”

“I suppose you were still small when we loved the beach the most.” He sounded almost sorry for that. But while five years did not seem like much distance at present, as children it had been an insurmountable gulf, keeping her far from the sport he made with friends nearer his age. “I do remember you being about more often than not, though.”

“Maybe it only seemed that way because Isaac was forever telling me to stop being a bother.” She forced a smile, thinking on her brother. “Do you think he has learned of our marriage yet?”

Silence fell between them again, and she looked out to the water, watching Silas from the corner of her eye. Without his marble mask in place, his expression was relaxed and his stare fixed on a point at the horizon.

“I sent Isaac a letter the day of the picnic. I expect his response any day. It will likely come here.” He avoided looking at her, his attention focused on the waves lapping toward them. “I can only hope he approves of our course of action, that I am not a disappointment to him, but I did not see any other way out of our situation. You must believe me on that score, Esther.”

She tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips in puzzlement. “You cannot be serious, truly. Isaac adores you. How could he ever look down upon our union? You are the best of friends and he will be grateful you looked out for me.” The words stung less than they had but days before. Esther’s fury over the situation had abated. “If he is disappointed in anyone, it will be in me.”