“But you must understand that the reason we have to slog through those layers of propriety is because of Charlie’s title,” Reginald said. “Our father was not a…he wasn’t a good man. Our brother has had to navigate more than one scandal over the years as the truth of him leaked slowly to theton.”
Now Arabella stared at Lord Reginald. It had been clear from the beginning that he was the problem in the relationship, more than Phoebe or the marquess. But now she saw through that to the truth.
Reginald was trying to protect Charles. Which left Silas without an agent to protect him. And so she straightened her spine and met the man’s gaze evenly.
“My lord, having met you and watched the three of you interact, I may have some insight to this matter. I am not intimately involved with this family. I wasn’t raised with the hurts and the regrets, so perhaps I can see things a little more clearly.”
“Can you?” Lord Reginald asked, his tone cold. “And what, pray tell, does the country’s most shocking Cyprian have to say about it?”
Before Silas could bark or defend, she reached her hand out and covered his once more. She squeezed without looking at him and said, “You only see Silas as the boy who was dragged into your family, against the will of all the children involved. It was difficult for him and I assume it must have been difficult for you. But that wasn’t his fault.”
“Of course, it wasn’t,” the marquess said. “And Reg and I, especially, were old enough to behave better toward a sad, confused child who had no idea why he’d been brought there.”
“You weren’t always awful,” Silas said, at last. “There are good memories.”
Now Reginald bent his head. “There are. And I do want to create more of those. Damn it, when Phoebe said you’d written that you were coming back straight away, do you know what I felt?Happiness, Silas. I was happy I’d get to see you again. Happy we would all be together. I want to be able to see you, to build a relationship as men that we couldn’t as boys because our father pitted us against each other. Pushed you out.”
Silas’s breath caught, wavered. “But you must see that this edict you gave me last week about being who you want me to bestillpushes me out. You are offering to let me into this family, fully into this family, if I change everything about who I am. If I only make myself palatable to you.”
The marquess bent his head at that statement and Arabella could see his shame in it. Lord Reginald was harder to read. She understood why. When one plunked oneself into the role of protector for decades, it was harder to allow for anything but whatever was defined as the protection.
“I didn’t mean for that to be the impression,” the marquess said.
“Nor I. And of course you may still be you,” Reginald hastened to add. “Men gamble, you would still gamble. Men go to the Donville Masquerade, you could still do that. If you want to have a mistress, that’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do just…” He trailed off and his cheeks grew a little darker as he seemed to recall Arabella was there.
And she realized, with a start, thatshehad become chief amongst the problems that these men had with Silas. She was infamous and her infamy was what rankled. What brought too many eyes toward Lord Pentaghast and brought out every sense of protection from Lord Reginald in response.
“The problem is me,” she supplied softly.
Silas turned toward her. “No. They do not get to?—”
“Silas, your brothers are not so incorrect. Iamthe country’s most shocking Cyprian. I have worn that mantle with pride and I feel no shame in you saying it, even if that’s your intention.” She directed that statement toward Reginald now. “Not very well done of you, by the way.”
He had the decency to bend his head slightly, but he still said, “But what are we supposed to do? Ignore it while every person who calls to check on my brother’s health slyly inquires about you and Silas because you’re racing around London, dancing in the middle of presentations or fucking in opera boxes?”
She smiled at Silas now. “We’ve never fucked in an opera box.”
He was controlling his emotions, but his gaze softened as it met hers. “I would enjoy the opera more if we did. A good suggestion.”
“Thisis what I mean,” Reginald said, and threw his napkin across the table next to his untouched soup. “You want to revel in your dissipation, indulging every worst impulse and sheisn’thelping.”
Silas shook his head. “You’ve no idea how much she helps. How just the fact of being near her makes me feel more myself than I have in all the decades of being your brother.”
She pivoted to look at him. His green eyes were flashing with anger, and she might have believed this response was just a way to tweak his brothers. But there was passion to it that had nothing to do with them. That had everything to do with the truth.
If she stayed here, stayed with him, as she had for too long, they would be at an impasse. He would be hurt. And she couldn’t allow that.
She pushed her chair back and stood. The men raced to join her out of politeness. She inclined her head toward them. “I think my presence here is only making this worse. I wouldn’t want to do that. I’m close to my sisters, I couldn’t imagine being anything but. I wouldn’t see a loss of such closeness done to Silas, not any more than it already has been.”
“No, please don’t go,” he said.
She managed to look at him without bursting into tears. “Silas, you must discuss this with your brothers without my presence making things more complicated.” Her attention shifted to the marquess and Lord Reginald. “And you two must be able to see past whatever judgments you have about who your brother has been bedding and truly look at the man he is. The very good, intelligent, free-spirited man who is more than worthy of your affection without changing even a fraction of who he is. You would both be lucky to have him in your lives.”
“I’m sorry this has been unpleasant, Miss Comerford,” the marquess said. “I truly am.”
“As am I,” Lord Reginald agreed.
She looked to Silas again. “Come, walk me out.”
