I should leave.This whole thing was a bad idea. He was bound to say the wrong thing or forget to bow deeply enough or some other damn nonsense the gentry all cared about so much, and then he would be turned away.
But if he left now, where would he go?
There was no place for him in the family business. His father had been more than clear about that. The only thing Silas knew was the navy, and they didn’t want him anymore.
Rapid footsteps sounded in the hall outside before the door burst open to reveal a plump, pretty woman with medium brown hair and a round face. She stopped midstride when she spotted them, obviously surprised to find the room occupied.
Williams rose to his feet and Silas hurried to copy his example. His heart was already racing. It was always like this when he found himself under scrutiny. His brain seemed to freeze up and his tongueturned to lead. He hated being studied and ranked like an errant schoolboy. No matter what he did or said, they could always see right through him to spot the flaws beneath. It brought back too many memories.
“Miss Danby, may I present Mr. Silas Corbyn?” Williams said.
Silas bowed, trying not to rush through the motion despite the nervous energy that coursed through him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but Miss Danby wasn’t it. He’d met the other co-owner, Williams’s wife, when he called at their town house a few days prior. Though Mrs. Williams was young, she had a face that brooked no nonsense. He could easily picture her running a business, even if a gaming hell wasn’t an ordinary choice for a wellborn lady. She’d seemed the sort of woman who had no trouble taking charge.
Miss Danby, in contrast, looked to be disorder personified. She was flushed as if she’d hurried in, her hat was askew, and she was carrying a notebook in her arms that looked ready to burst from all the scraps of paper tucked inside. When she dipped into a little curtsy to acknowledge their introduction, a note fluttered out and fell to the floor. She didn’t seem to have noticed.
“I’m so sorry. Am I late?” she asked Williams as she rose. “I was held up meeting with some musicians to play here like we talked about. They’re coming tonight, so we need to decide where we should put them.” She finally turned to study Silas in earnest, running an appraising eye over his person. She didn’t seem impressed by what she saw. But then, why should she be? He wasn’t very impressive, with his hair that he hadn’t had time to take to the barber since his return to England and a suit that was an ill-fitting hand-me-down from his father. It was obvious that he wasn’t a member of her own class. Though the navy had been meant to transform him into a gentleman, he’d failed to last long enough to get the job done. He feltlike a half-baked pie. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Corbyn. Please have a seat.”
Silas moved to obey, placing his hands on his lap and making a conscious effort not to fidget. He would rather have been back at sea and in the midst of a heated battle than dealing with this. Trying to prove himself to some rich woman he didn’t know so that he could work in a club that didn’t interest him. The building looked like the setting for an afternoon tea party, from the damask wallpaper to the lace embellishments on the tablecloths he’d spotted on the way in.
He’d had real prospects, once. A respectable career that he was actually good at. Never mind that he’d never quite learned to hold his bloody tongue when he should; his superiors had been forced to respect his skill and quick instincts. How was he supposed to lower himself to working as a dealer for a bunch of pampered ladies with so much money they needed to create excuses to throw it away?
You can’t go back, he reminded himself.The navy is done. Stop thinking about it.
“Shall we begin with you telling me how your naval service ended, exactly?” Miss Danby asked. “I don’t wish to pry, but I need to know if you pose any risk to our reputation.”
Hell.Not off to a good start, were they?
Williams shot him a warning look and answered for him. “He doesn’t. It was all a misunderstanding. I can vouch for him.”
He should be happy that his friend was trying to protect him, but it only made Silas feel small. He shouldn’tneedprotecting. He’d done the right thing, no matter what anyone thought, yet he was supposed to sit here obediently and bite his tongue while everyone assumed the worst.
Miss Danby was staring at the little scar that curved over his chin, no doubt wondering if he’d gotten it from fighting. She clearly expected him to say something, but there was nothing he could say that wouldmake her understand why a passed midshipman in line for promotion had sabotaged his career by attacking his commanding officer.
Why should it matter to her, anyway? She’d known his story before she agreed to meet with him. Surely there was no need to rehash it.
Silas raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You’re a gaming hell. I wouldn’t think you’d need to worry too much about a scandal.”
Now they were both glaring at him. Well, it was true, wasn’t it? Why should a gambling club need their dealers to be altar boys?
Williams jumped in to save him once more. “What Mr. Corbynmeansto say is that he had a dispute with his commanding officer, but it wasn’t due to any fault of his.”
Williams had always been too noble.
“What sort of dispute?”
Silas couldn’t take it anymore. Were they going to spend all day dancing around the truth to avoid upsetting Miss Danby? She obviously wasn’t going to let the subject drop. Better to just get it over with.
“I broke his nose,” he said flatly. “But he deserved it.”
The room went dead silent except for the ticking of a mantel clock. Someone had obviously forgotten to wind it recently, for it was counting off the seconds at a far slower pace than usual. Or maybe that was only Silas’s imagination.
Miss Danby had grown pale. She cleared her throat delicately, her voice coming out rushed and nervous when she spoke again. “Er… Where is your family from?”
Of course.
In her haste to escape the worst subject of conversation they could have chosen, Miss Danby had stumbled upon the second-worst one. Silas could almost have laughed. This meeting was going so badly that it seemed like fate.
“Don’t have any family.” Maybe that would put a stop to this line of questioning.
