“This wilderness is no home for a Prior.” He bent down to pick up a piece of glass, making a great display of shifting through the broken pieces. “It is not safe.”
She stepped forward, determined to keep the conversation from spiraling to a point from which they could not return. “I have agreed to your stipulation of guards. What more do you need? You have said yourself Henry is not safe in Leeds either.”
Silence fell, and once again the only noise was the windwhistling through broken glass and the fire popping in the grate. He pivoted, and Charlotte’s defenses, for the moment, abated somewhat. How pale her brother-in-law looked. The lines around his eyes appeared harsher, and the shadows of his face appeared almost gray.
Silas tossed the piece of glass back to the floor and retrieved a packet from his coat. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “We all owe it to Henry’s future to keep this sort of thing in hand, so if you will not heed reason, I intend to appeal to your sense of motherly affection.”
She eyed the large envelope skeptically. “What’s that?”
“If you insist on staying in this house, then it must be made respectable.” He extended the packet toward her. “This is enough money to see to the proper updates and maintenance for Hollythorne House and to employ a staff to properly run a house of this size. Mr.Walstead’s ramshackle retinue will not be here for long. We all must look to the future and all its facets.”
She stared at the offering. Had she not been clear? “I cannot accept it.”
“Why the devil not?” His face flushed crimson.
“That’s not my money. Quite frankly, I do not wish to be indebted to you. I’ll not be indebted to anyone.”
“How else can you afford to care for this?” he protested, his volume increasing. “This is a gift, one family member to another. This offer will not be extended again.”
She fixed her sight on the packet once more. It might very well be a gift in this moment, but there would eventually be conditions. “I’ll find another way. I am sorry, Silas, but I will not accept it.”
He snapped the envelope out of her reach and returned it to his pocket. “If you’re unwilling to accept assistance, given freely and without expectation, then there is nothing to be done.”
He stepped to and touched the broken window and moved the shattered glass on the floor with the toe of his boot. “I will be watching you, Charlotte. I’ll be watching Henry. Do not force my hand and make me petition the courts for Henry’s well-being.”
She knew what he meant. If she did not comply with his wishes, he would find a legal way to control Henry.
But she refused to bow to intimidation.
Silas snatched his coat and gloves from where he left them and exited without a word.
Charlotte remained in the parlor after he left. She merely turned to look out the window to the courtyard. She drew a fortifying breath and watched as Anthony escorted him back to his horse.
She had done it. She’d stood her ground and defied Silas Prior, again. She only hoped it would be enough.
Chapter19
It had been nearly half an hour since Silas Prior left the property when Anthony returned to the great hall.
He’d not intended to overhear the conversation between Charlotte and her guest, but even with the parlor door closed, he’d heard almost everything.
Normally, he would not give such an exchange a second thought. But this was a personal matter.
Charlotte’spersonal matter.
The manipulative tactics in Prior’s tone and words sickened him, but her ability to stand up to such a man spoke volumes about her character. But even so, how long could she, a single woman, withstand the demands of a man as influential as Silas Prior?
While deciding how to proceed, he removed his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair, which needed a cut, and swiped the dust from the sleeves of his wool coat. He was aware of how different he looked from the day he had left for war, and he could only imagine what she thought of his altered appearance. He slid his palm over his full side-whiskers and the stubble on his cheek and chin, left there intentionally to mask the scar. Nothing could be done about his appearance now, and besides, the way he looked surely mattered not to her—especially not since her life was in such turmoil.
He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe as he entered the parlor. Charlotte stood at the west window, and she did not acknowledge his entrance. Her long black gown swung slightly about her legs as she swayed slowly. Henry was asleep in her arms, and Anthony’s chest tightened.
How many times had he dreamed of this very sight whenhe was alone on the battlefield? The thought of her—a haunting vision of beauty, home, and love he’d tucked close when everything around him spun with death and anguish. During his brief visit back to Blight Moor after he’d returned from war, he heard she had married, but he’d not asked for specifics. Now, as every bit of new detail came to light, he did not like the picture that was forming.
He cleared his throat. “Mr.Prior has departed.”
“You heard that conversation, I suppose,” she said without turning away from the window. “You forget I was raised in this house. No conversation in this chamber is totally private. I don’t think my father ever fully realized that. I know I heard more than my fair share of private conversations.”
He stepped next to her and took in the late-morning light over the moorland, unsure of how to respond. The watchman in him knew he should stick to the facts of the case. But the other side of him—the side that would always care for her—could not. “One could not help but overhear.”
