Page 48 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

It was difficult to tamp down on the elation he felt at ridding himself of that particular pest. Silas let out a sharp breath and then made his path to his wife. They needed to talk, and that she had hinted where she might be found indicated she might think the same.

∞∞∞

There was already a fire built up in the library and its comforting heat as well as the crackle of the flame gave Esther a measure of peace. She paced before the fire. Would Silas come? She had been unable to issue a true invitation for a meeting with him, given Lord Neil’s odious presence, but she had faith in her husband’s intelligence. Given her distance the day before, telling him outright where she would be ought to bring him to her.

Assuming he even wanted to speak with her after her immature display.

The long day and night proceeding her fit of grief and temper had given Esther ample time to think, and to regret her actions. It was not Silas’s fault that they were in this terrible position. He had only meant to help, to save her and her family from disgrace, by marrying her. Truly she was an ungrateful chit to use his honorable intentions as fuel for her temper.

She stopped her frantic walk before the shelves, staring at the reds and browns of the leather covers without really seeing them. What would her mother have said about her behavior? Her lack of decorum and dignity?

“Have you a sudden interest,” her husband’s voice said from behind her, “in philosophy?”

Then his step came across the room to her, until he stood behind her. “My grandfather collected most of those volumes,” he said, his hand stretching into her field of vision, pointing at the shelf at which she had stared.

Esther shook her head. “I cannot say I have ever wanted to study the subject.” Then she took in a shaky breath, trying to gather her courage, before turning to face him. One thing she had heard her mother say was that one must always offer an apology in a sincere and direct manner.

“Silas—”

“Esther—”

She stopped, raising a hand to cover her mouth, when they spoke in the same moment.

His cheeks pinked and he ducked his head, the smallest of smiles appearing on his handsome face. “I beg your pardon. Ladies first.”

That smile, the gentle tone of his voice, made her heart tremble. She balled her hands into fists at her side, trying to find the words she had been preparing since the first hours of the morning.

As sincerely as she knew how, Esther said, “I wish to apologize to you.” His eyes came up, though his head remained bowed, giving her a rather charming view of him. “You were right yesterday. I was acting like a child. I have been all out of sorts, even before we learned about Isaac. I have felt as though my life was spinning out of control, like the wheels of a runaway carriage. The reality, of course, is that I have not exercised the best judgment. I really must be more thankful that you have done so much for me.”

His dark eyebrows drew down and wrinkles appeared in his forehead. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone low and rich in timbre. “What have I done but be a nuisance to you?”

He actually sounded as though he meant it.

“You have saved me, time and again, from my impetuous actions.” She had found her artwork that very morning, when a maid had asked if it was to be displayed in the music room.

“Ah. Such as when you rescued me from a falling statue.” His smile changed to one of self-abasement. “Because I was too busy thinking about my own concerns to look before me and see the danger. Or did you mean a different impetuous action? Like when you stepped onto the log to cross the brook when I was proving to be an annoying companion. Or perhaps you mean something else entirely.”

Esther shook her head. “All of those things, I suppose.” But that wasn’t right. He explained each moment as though he were somehow to blame for her actions. “Regardless of what happened,” she said, trying to unmuddle the apology. “I am sorry for my behavior. I also wanted to assure you that I will not be acting in such a way again. Yesterday, walking out on your friends, was inappropriate.”

“Not at all. We are all mourning, Esther. As you told me not long ago, those who are in such a state need not excuse themselves.” He spoke kindly, as though what she had done was no more than forgetting a handkerchief or using the wrong spoon for her soup. A minor mistake.

Why would he not allow her to acknowledge her failings?

“Silas,” she said, waving a hand before her in a helpless manner. “Please. Do you not understand? I wish to change. I wish to make amends.”

His smile turned gentle and he caught her hand in both of his. “Esther, will you sit down with me for a moment?” He tugged her toward the couch nearest the fire, releasing her to gesture to the furniture. “Please?”

Flummoxed, Esther sat down, folding her hands tightly in her lap. Had she somehow bungled her apology as she had everything else?

Silas sat next to her, turning toward her so that their knees nearly touched. “My dear wife, your apologies are not necessary, though I thank you for them. We are understandably out of sorts, and I think that has led to some confusion. For both of us.”

She shook her head. “I do not understand.”

“Precisely.” One corner of his mouth went up and she smiled, albeit weakly, in return. “Esther, I do not want your apologies or your promises to change. I believe I am the one at fault for the way we rushed into our marriage, and then I went away. We were near strangers, bound together, but too far apart to come to know one another. In these last several days, I have wondered if I ought to have taken you to London with me.”

Her breath caught and Esther leaned forward, a question slipping from her lips almost without her permission. “Why didn’t you?” Was it as she suspected? Did he fear she would cause damage to his standing in Society?

He let out a puff of air and leaned against the couch, stretching one arm across its back toward her. “Because I did not want to expose you to the cats of the ton. Our marriage came so swiftly after the gossip and rumors, I knew there would be slights offered you and people attempting to expose you to all of Society as something you were not. I could not let them get to you, Esther. I wanted to protect you until the interest surrounding our unusual arrangement died down.” He met her eyes, his earnestness tugging at her heart. “But I did not explain this to you, nor ask what you thought of that course of action. I am sorry, my dear Esther. I think of all the times I should have discussed things with you…” His words trailed away and he shook his head, his expression turning contrite.