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Really, Ryan was intensely annoyed. Having witnessed Arthur’s arrogance toward his wife, he could understand Sian’s objection to wedlock and Mabel’s misery. What struck him was that Arthur wasn’t upset at the loss of his immediate family. He was simply angry that his decisions, his choices, were being objected to in the first place. He wasn’t hurt, beside himself with misery, or even worried at all. He was condemning of everyone except himself.
“You are a little too like Wilhelmina, Arthur, and I abhor that,” Ryan murmured.
Arthur opened his mouth to object. He glared at Ryan but then seemed to remember who Ryan was. Without uttering a word, he stalked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
“That is the problem, isn’t it? He is a lot like Wilhelmina,” Sian whispered.
“Oh, my dear. Did we wake you up? I am sorry,” Mabel gushed. “How are you feeling?”
“I am tired, but my head doesn’t hurt all that much now,” Sian replied. She tried to sit up but struggled because the room began to swirl alarmingly.
“How much of that did you just hear?” Ryan asked, pointing across the room at the door.
“All of it,” Sian replied. “Well, I think from the part where my father entered the room. His voice woke me up.”
Ryan ambled over to the bed and perched a hip on the edge. “How do you really feel?”
Sian winced. “How do you do that?”
Ryan grinned.
“My head is pounding, the room is swimming around me, and I am hungry yet feel queasy at the same time,” she reported honestly, throwing him a rueful look.
Ryan’s smile widened. “It may be the Laudanum the doctor gave you. He said that if you have too much it might make you feel sick.”
“My head feels fuddled.” Sian tried to rub the temple only for Ryan to capture her hand and hold it.
“Let’s get you something to eat, and then you can get some more sleep.” Ryan relayed what the doctor had told him. “Meantime, your mother can fetch her things with Martha and Lucinda, and you can all then decide what you are going to do.”
“It is so very good of you to do this,” Mabel whispered tearfully.
“Nonsense. I hope my involvement will make Arthur want to do something about the mess the family is in. Only he can do it.”
“He has to come down off his high horse,” Mabel said. “I don’t think he is ever going to do that. He has always been a little high-handed, but always seemed to know what he is doing. Now that we are in a financial mess, I really have to question if he has any wisdom at all.”
“He doesn’t talk to anybody,” Sian whispered. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he told us what was going on. While we cannot come up with any business propositions, we might have been able to do something. I mean, although father objects to him, Martha’s intended, Isambard, works as an accountant. Surely he would have been able to study father’s books and come up with some solutions to help him solve his financial problems, wouldn’t he?”
“Isambard Rodgers?” Ryan’s brows shot skyward.
“You know him?”
Ryan nodded. “I hear Mr Richardson is most pleased with his progress and intends to offer him a better position soon.”
Sian shared a smile with her mother, who looked inordinately pleased.
“He is a likeable fellow,” Ryan added.
“You see? Yet Arthur refuses to allow him across the threshold because Wilhelmina objected to Isambard’s father being a blacksmith,” Mabel added, turning angry again.
“Well, a week or two pandering to Wilhelmina’s dictates should be enough to force Arthur to reconsider his stance. If he doesn’t, then he is going to be a very lonely and very destitute old man,” Ryan mused.
Privately, he had no intention of allowing Wilhelmina to tear the family apart while she furnished her lifestyle with things she couldn’t afford. He fully intended to find out whatever he could about Wilhelmina Mullens, and Cedrick. For now, Ryan tugged on the bell pull.
“First, let’s get you some food. Once we have all had something to eat, I will arrange for a carriage to take you home so you can fetch your things,” he told Mabel. “Meantime, Sian can follow the doctor’s orders and rest and recuperate.”
“Are you sure father is going to allow you to fetch your things?” Sian asked of her mother.
“I cannot see how he can object seeing as he isn’t going to have a need to wear my dresses. Wilhelmina certainly cannot have them, and I don’t intend to stay there. What is Arthur going to do, keep me under house arrest until I agree to stay? I think trying to force people to do things they don’t wish to do has caused everybody enough misery already, don’t you?”
