Silas froze at that. “And what is wrong with Arabella?”
“She’s a courtesan,” Reggie burst out, getting to his feet and pacing the room.
“Indeed, she is.” Silas leaned back and putting on a show of casual nonchalance even though he felt none of it. “Are you certain you wish to discuss her then with Phoebe sitting here? Our innocent sister.”
Phoebe let out a snort. “I’m forty years old and have been married and widowedtwice. Not to mention born five children. I haven’t been an innocent for years. Even if I were, I thinkeveryoneknows about Arabella Comerford.” She glanced at Silas. “She’s uncommonly pretty.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Silas agreed with a wink for her.
“Andinfamous,” Reggie snapped, slamming his hands down on the back of the chair he had abandoned a moment before.
“Why do you care?” Silas asked. “Christ, I’m certain both of you have had mistresses in your time. And Reg is married. So why does my connection with a courtesan make a fucking…apologies, Phoebe…bit of difference to whether I’ll be accepted by you lot or not? It sounds like it’s just some excuse so that you can offer me this but not truly mean it. Some little game.”
“It’s not a game,” Charlie insisted, and reached up to rub his eyes. He looked a little pale now, tired. “Christ. Yes, gentlemen have mistresses…apologies, Phoebe.”
“Good Lord, please stop apologizing to me, all of you,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand.
Charlie continued, “But it’s one thing to have a discreet arrangement with some level of propriety and composure. It’s quite another to rush around with a woman who is sought after, yes, but also known as entirely wild.”
“Imprudent,foolish,” Reg added.
“She brings out the worst in you.”
Silas flinched. The worst in him. What his brother meant, of course, was the most natural in him. When he was with Arabella, he felt…free. More like himself than he had been since his father’s death and his self-exile from the life and family he’d known.
They wanted to tame his wild, he realized, using the same term Arabella had said to him when they first met each other again at the Donville Masquerade. They wanted to take that center of him that wasn’t just like them. Take away his spirit. Take away the one thing that gave him real pleasure, and not just the physical kind.
He shook his head. “Arabella Comerford is neither imprudent nor foolish. Spend two minutes with her and you’ll know she’s one of the most intelligent people in this or any country. Sheiswild, but that is because she is only entirely herself and does not let people likeyoudictate how she views herself and the world. You cannot control her, which is what you don’t like.”
“Oh, Silas, really,” Charlie said on a long sigh.
“And the fact is that you cannot control me, which you also don’t like. Have never liked. So as for your offer to let me into the fold, as long as I dance to your tune, I think I shall have to decline.”
“After all these years, I don’t think anyone in this family would be so foolish as to believe anyone could control you. Christ, you can’t even control yourself,” Reg said, taking a step toward him.
Phoebe got up, holding up a hand like she feared the two men would come to blows. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Silas glanced toward her. “I don’t intend to do anything, Phoebe, I promise you. For all I’ve been accused of being out of control, it’s our dear brother who you need be concerned about when it comes to throwing blows. I don’t care enough to do so.”
Both his brothers flinched at that and Phoebe sucked in a sharp breath. He wished for a brief moment that he could take that last sentence back. He didn’t mean it, after all. But he had to start, it seemed. He drew in a shaky breath.
“Years ago, I might have jumped at the offer to be a real part of his family,” he continued. “I would have loved it. But I gave up on that decades ago. I am here. I’ve come at your beckoning, my lord. But the loving family ship sailed long before the one that took me to America. And I will be sailing back to my life there in a few weeks. Then none of you will have to be concerned about what I do or who I fuck.”
He pivoted on his heel and exited the room, ignoring Phoebe calling his name as he did so. He had held his head high as he stormed down the dark path to the stable for his horse instead of waiting for it to be brought to him.
But as he thundered from the drive, the emotions he wished he didn’t feel rose up in him. Regret, anger…loss. Pain. He hated those weaknesses. Hated that he had felt a swell of hope at the idea of being a real family before he was brought back to reality.
He wanted it to stop. And he knew one way to make sure it would.
* * *
Arabella loved going out, playing her games, wearing her costumes, but the nights she planned to stay in were always a relief. There was something so comfortable about wearing her flannel dressing gown and wrapping her hair in rags so it would have a curl the next day. Then she’d sit before her fire and talk to her sisters if they were there, or read a book and sip madeira if they weren’t.
Tonight she was alone, for Julia was the only one living at Arabella’s home at present and she was out with a friend for the night. Arabella tucked her bare feet up next to her on the settee and pressed her chin into her hand as she turned the page of her book, reveling in the story she was in the middle of at present, an adventure tale of a man traveling around the world. One who made her think of Silas from time to time.
When there was a light knock on the parlor door, she lifted her gaze in surprise. “Yes?”
Barnaby opened it and inclined his head. “I’m so sorry to intrude, Miss Comerford. I did try to tell the gentleman that you were not in residence, but he asked me to check again and seemed quite wild about it.”
