Page 25 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

Her eyes sparkled up at him. “That is one duty I look forward to immensely. I cannot tell you how often I suffered through Diana’s menus, wishing for lamb instead of tripe, soup instead of eel, and fish rather than ham. And her desserts, while always delicious, were so rich that one could only take a bite or two before it was too much. It is a wonder that my stepbrother isn’t twice as wide a person, given he has eaten at her table for ten years.”

“So long as you let me have my favorites occasionally, you have free reign in this house to serve whatever food you please.” He tried to sound gracious, like a king bestowing some great honor upon her, yet her answering smile was hesitant.

He led her into the sitting room and saw her comfortably situated onto a plush chair near the fire. Then he took up his place with an elbow on the mantel. “Are you going to ask what my favorites are?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

Her expression became somewhat saucy. “I have the feeling you are going to say tripe, eel, and ham.”

The laugh he loosed at her astute guess felt incredible, like a burst of fresh air after denying himself breath. When was the last time he had laughed? And how had Esther managed to make it happen? “You are on to me, my lady.”

“My lord, you are far too predictable when it comes to your teasing. Your eyes always give you away.”

“Do they?” Silas narrowed the offending orbs dramatically and turned to look into the mirror above the hearth. “You had best not warn my political opponents of that failing. I take pride in being unreadable, you know.”

Esther sounded more thoughtful than amused as she spoke. “I have the feeling you do not tease your opponents in that arena. I have seen the drawings of you, Silas. And read about your speeches. You have a reputation for being rather unshakable and unknowable.”

He met her gaze in the mirror, his countenance sobering. “There are times when a man’s thoughts ought to be well concealed. I have learned over the years that my position in Society gives people odd notions about what I can do for them. Many a supposed friend has only sought my influence, and several flattering females have been on the hunt for a wedding ring that might elevate them above their peers. It is difficult to tell an ally from an enemy when everyone says what they think I want to hear.”

“You remain closed off,” she said, nodding slightly. “I understand that.”

“Until I have determined a person’s motivation, yes.” He sighed deeply, about to run his hands through his hair before he remembered the pains taken by his valet to groom it that evening. He straightened his posture instead. “Here, at home, I like to think it is not necessary.”

“I have noticed a general sort of relaxation in your manner today.” She offered him a less radiant smile, the laughter gone. He nearly asked what was wrong, why that displeased her, when the butler came in announcing dinner.

There would be plenty of time to come to understand Esther. They were married, and that gave him a lifetime to study her.

He assisted her into her chair at one end of the table and he went to the other. It was not the grand table they would use for dinner parties, but it was still long enough that they were far apart. Far enough apart to make conversation almost impossible. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Silas stood at his chair, glaring down at it. Then he looked up to where Esther waited, her dark eyes on him.

“I should like to sit closer to Lady Inglewood,” he announced to the room. Footmen came at once, whisking his plates, glasses, and cutlery out of position. He started back to where Esther sat, her eyes rounder than the plate on the table. He sat at her right hand and in seconds his place was laid before him again. An arm’s length away from her, Silas plainly saw the blush in her cheeks.

“You need not be concerned for me, my lord,” she whispered, lowering her gaze to her lap. “I do not wish to make extra work for you or the staff.”

“It took less than thirty seconds to accomplish this feat, and now I can better enjoy your company during the meal.” Silas grinned at her, but the triumphant feeling faded when her response was a tight nod. Had he done something wrong?

The first course was served in silence. It was a rich, creamy, purple carrot soup. A dish both sweet and savory, one of his favorites.

“I do not think I have ever had purple soup,” she ventured to say before trying it. “Mm. This is lovely.”

As Esther remained content to limit their conversation to the food, Silas kept his own remarks there as well, or else stayed silent. At least the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. The longer they sat together, the more relaxed she appeared. Until the dessert course was served. Esther barely ate two bites before putting her fork down. “My lord, I hope you will excuse me. I am still fatigued from the day and I can feel a headache beginning. If I see to my rest now, I might stave off that particular discomfort.”

He leaped up and came to her chair before a footman could assist her. “I will escort you to your room.” Wasn’t that what he ought to do, as her husband? Perhaps he should call the doctor, in case this headache was a remnant of her London injury. It had been more than a month since her knock on the head. She ought to be recovered.

“No,” she said, most abruptly. Wincing, she added, “Please do not trouble yourself on my account.”

The ebb and flow of her moods and conversation struck him once more. There was a pattern here. They began speaking of light matters, ventured into more personal conversation, and then she pulled back and discussed mundane topics more appropriate to a dinner party of strangers than those intimately acquainted. Finally, she left.

He let her go with no more than a bow and a wish for her good health. After Esther vanished, Silas found he no longer wished to enjoy the baked fruit dessert. He left the table for his study, to make certain once more he had all he needed to return to London.

After a few moments of sitting at his desk, however, he had not made a move to search through drawers or stacks of paper. He stared instead at the window. The curtains were drawn back, and the night sky was dark with clouds. He could not get his mind off Esther’s reluctance to speak with him for longer than a few minutes on subjects that mattered. It was as though Esther held a shield and when he came too close, she lifted it before retreating.

As one who frequently fought to keep the world at bay, Silas well respected her desire to protect herself—but why did she feel the need to defend against him? From the beginning of their re-acquaintance, he had only had her best interests at heart. And she knew him from childhood.

He tapped his fingers upon the arm of his chair, trying to puzzle out his wife and failing. Her vehement dislike of being left behind must be part of the problem. But they were married. Aside from this small trip to London to finish out the political season, where did she think he would go that she could not?

Writing her letters may help to form a deeper connection, or at least lay the foundation for one. The idea of leaving her to her own devices, when she was obviously bothered by being alone at the Keep, did not sit well with him. Perhaps he ought to arrange for some company for her, from time to time.

With a new objective in sight, Silas turned to his desk and pulled two sheets of paper toward him. He would write Jacob and the Everlys, ask them to check up on Esther from time to time. And he would make certain the staff provided her whatever she needed in order to divert herself, including all the painting and drawing supplies they could find in the village.

It felt a very husbandly thing to do, and by the time Silas took himself to bed, his mind did not weigh on him so heavily as it had. Of course, glancing at the door linking her rooms to his gave him pause. Someday, when they came to a better understanding of one another, he would have to breach that door.