“Good.” She smiled knowingly. “Because there’s no need to be.”
Silas snatched his hat and went out.
Williams had sent his carriage over to spare him the embarrassment of arriving by hackney, which was irritatingly thoughtful of him.
It made Silas feel that much worse about his deceit. But he wasn’t truly doing anything wrong, was he? It was no more than Miss Williams had asked of him. And he wasn’t toying with her heart; he was sure of it. Almost entirely. It was only James’s baseless rambling that had put doubt in his head.
He had the entire ride to Mayfair to ruminate on the matter, so that by the time he arrived, Silas had nearly decided to ask the driver to turn around and take him back.
The white stucco facade of the town house looked too pristine for him, perched between its neighbors with its perfectly trimmed hedges and manicured lawn. Recalling how he’d spent his last visit to this place circling around those very hedges while the maid and Mrs. Williams tried to drive him from the property, Silas felt his face grow hot. He forced himself to march up the path and knock on the front door, pushing the memory down as deep as it would go.
Marian was right; he’d been trained for this. Even if it had never come naturally to him, he’d been taught what fork to use and how to sip his soup quietly and a hundred other tiny rules to keep from making a complete ass of himself in front of his betters.
He could do this. He could be what Miss Williams wanted him to be, if only for one night.
Williams and his wife were the first ones to greet Silas once he was shown into their receiving room by the same maid who’d tried to run him off. Despite their obvious reservations, the couple put on a good face, asking him a few polite questions about the weather and the ease of his journey over. (No one had the courage for more dangerous subjects, it would seem.) It was only when Miss Williams and her mother entered the room a moment later that things grew truly awkward.
“Good evening, Mr. Corbyn,” Mrs. Williams greeted him. Her lips pinched shut as soon as the words were out, as if she’d smelled something unpleasant. When she looked him over, her eyes lingered at the seams on his shoulders where the fabric puckered.
So much for her change of heart.
“Good evening, Mrs. Williams.” He focused on keeping his bow smooth and unhurried, despite the hot, prickling feeling inching up the back of his neck. She was looking at him like he was a street urchin who’d wandered in to beg for scraps. Silas clenched his teeth and forced some more platitudes out. “Thank you for the invitation.”
He turned his attention to her daughter, eager to escape Mrs. Williams’s scrutiny before he lost his temper and gave offense.
The young lady was dressed in a gold and emerald gown, with a matching gold ribbon woven into the elaborate braid that secured her dark-brown hair around her head like a crown. Everything about her was meant to look dazzling and expensive. Regal. When he’d first met Miss Williams, he might have judged her too self-conscious to live up to such a descriptor, but now Silas knew better. She had a streak of determination at her core, despite her shyness.
When their eyes met, she offered a tentative smile, blushed, and quickly looked away. Silas bowed and murmured a greeting to her in return, thinking about what James had said.
It was absurd to imagine he could ever be matched to someonelike Miss Williams, trapped in so much finery that she shone like a jewel. But why did she blush? Maybe she reallywastaken with him, no matter how unlikely this pairing might be.
It was such an unexpected notion that he had trouble keeping his thoughts focused on what he was supposed to be doing.
“We’re so happy you could join us,” Miss Williams said. He’d forgotten how warm and reassuring her voice was—or perhaps it only seemed that way in comparison to the frosty temperature radiating from the rest of the room. Still, the sound did something to soothe the agitation that had plagued him all afternoon.
Silas realized he was staring, and quickly tore his gaze away.
Wait. No.Heshouldstare. He was supposed to pretend to be in love with her, wasn’t he? In fact, he should probably force himself to sigh a bit. Or compliment her. Or something.
“You, er, you look lovely this evening. That’s a very pretty, uh, ribbon.” Silas tried not to wince as he landed on the first object he spotted. He sounded like an idiot. But if Miss Williams thought his delivery was ham-fisted, she didn’t give any sign. She merely thanked him in her gentle voice and took her place on the settee.
Mrs. Williams claimed the space beside her daughter, motioning Silas to the armchair facing them, no doubt eager to maintain a safe distance between the wolf and the lamb.
The interrogation began the moment he took his seat.
“So, Mr. Corbyn, what does your father do?” Mrs. Williams paused to take a sip of her tea. “I presume he must have some occupation. Is he in the navy as well?”
That didn’t last long.
He’d hoped he would have more than a minute before he ruined things. He shot a glance to Miss Williams, who gave him a tentative smile of encouragement.
Did she believe his father was a gentleman? Would she bedisappointed to learn otherwise? He could hardly lie, with her brother sitting right there. He already knew Silas was a tradesman’s son.
They’d likely all known the minute he’d walked into their house in an ill-fitting, hand-me-down coat.
He would stick to the truth then.
“No, ma’am.” Silas kept his back straight and his voice firm. “He’s a cooper. He works with my mother’s father, who owns a brewery.”
