Saying that felt like slitting her own throat. She almost couldn’t breathe.
“Oh, Arabella.”
“I should end it, and get a new arrangement and be finished. He’ll go back to America or…or do something else that will be better for him. Make him happy. What was between us will become nothing more than a pleasing memory I’ll recall when I’m trying to orgasm with some fumbling gentleman.”
She expected Simone to laugh at that. She didn’t. Instead she crossed to Arabella and took her hand. “Are you certain?”
“No. Yes. No. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Arabella let out a shaky sigh and let her friend hug her. “So am I. So am I.”
CHAPTER16
Silas was faced with two feelings as he fingered the note in his pocket. It was from his sister, asking if she could come call this afternoon. The first feeling was anxiety. He had no idea what she would say. Their last encounter, when she’d sat beside him as his brothers demanded he change to earn their love, had been unpleasant.
But the other feeling was relief. He truly cared for Phoebe. He didn’t want to be estranged from her.
As if conjured, Poole suddenly appeared at the door to the parlor and said, “Mrs. Broughton to see you, Mr. Windham.”
The butler stepped aside to allow his sister into the room and Silas smiled at her. “Phoebe, I’m so glad you’ve come.”
She crossed to him and took his hand to squeeze it gently. “I’m so glad to be here.”
“Will there be anything else aside from the tea, sir?” Poole asked.
Silas shook his head. “No, that will be all.” The servant stepped away and Silas let out his breath. “I’ve no idea what suddenly made the man all politeness, but I cannot argue the change.”
“The butler was not polite to you before?” his sister asked, and nodded as he motioned to the tea set.
He moved to pour her a cup and snorted out a laugh. “Well, he came with the house, of course, and I suppose he knew of my status as bastard prodigal son. But suddenly last week his attitude changed and now he at least tones down the nastiness.”
“Well, I'm glad of it.” Phoebe sighed as he handed over her cup and the two of them took a place together on the settee. “You certainly don’t deserve to be mistreated by anyone due to your birth. Not the servants, not…not your family.”
He set his tea aside untouched. “Come, Phoebe, you’ve always been kind to me. How old were you when I was brought to the family?”
“Well, you were about five, so I must have been fourteen or fifteen,” she said. “Which would have made Reggie seventeen and Charlie twenty.”
“It was a big change for all of you. And I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable to have your father’s by-blow running around, causing talk.”
She pursed her lips. “No, it wasn’t. And we all know that Father didn’t make it easier. He encouraged the gulf between us, I think. But after I got over the shock, all I could see was a sweet little boy when I looked at you.” She sighed. “Why do you think he wanted separation between you and us?”
Silas blinked. He hadn’t intended to have this conversation with his sister today, perhaps ever. He tended to play off these sorts of topics, try to steer away from any kind of vulnerability. But he’d opened something in himself when he’d told part of his past to Arabella. It had eased the hurt a fraction to allow the pain out. And now he thought of her, she just popped into his head like an angel trying to get purchase on his shoulder. She whispered to him that to discuss this with Phoebe might make it hurt even less.
And he drew a shaky breath and said, “He never really wanted me, I don’t think, he just wanted to take me from my mother. Oh, he’d tell you it was because she wasn’t…stable…and that was true, though I think his treatment of her made all that worse. But he also despised her for ending the affair before he could. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to do it so she would always know. So she could always be fully aware where I was and what I was doing because it was all so public.”
“He was vindictive, yes,” Phoebe whispered. “I could see him doing that. Trying to make her hurt by stealing you, claiming you not just dragging you away.”
“And once he had, he had little use for me. When my mother died, he…he told me so matter-of-factly. So coldly.”
She winced again. “Yes, I recall that. I only knew she died because of servant whispers. And when I asked him if I could offer you comfort, he was furious. He told me that your mother didn’t…didn’t…”
“Didn’t matter, yes. He told me the same.” He turned his face and drew a few breaths. “I thought he might send me away then, but I think I was a bit like a project for him. Could he turn the bastard son of a courtesan into a suitable gentleman? Mold what he saw as the worst of me out of me. So he kept me under his roof, under his watch, tried to shape me, but I’m not sure he ever truly saw me as a son. So why would he want his real children to be close to me? Why would he want to foster the full acceptance he never gave?”
She seemed to ponder that a moment and he saw the pain in her. Pain for the past, pain for him, but also pain for herself. Slowly, she nodded. “You are probably right. Like many men of his stature and disposition, he saw his children as tools. Charlie was his legacy, all he cared about was making him marquess, and he didn’t care if he broke him in the process. Reggie was just a spare. He hardly even gave a damn about him unless it was to punish. And I was his way of linking our family to an equally important one, whether I liked his choice or not.”
Once again, Silas thought of Arabella. She had run from her father, dragged her sisters behind her. She wouldn’t tell him much, but perhaps it was a similar tale.
