“We are a wretched lot, aren’t we?” he said with a smile.
Miss Delmonte covered her eyes and shook her head. “I cannot believe I spoke in such a manner. You must forgive—”
But Silas waved that away. “Think nothing of it. I am fully aware of how demanding and irritating people can be. I will assume you spoke so freely because you do not consider me in that light.”
Pressing a hand to her cheek (which Silas guessed was bright pink, though the growing shadows made it impossible to tell for certain), Miss Delmonte laughed at herself. “You are by far the most accommodating parent with whom I have worked, but far too many of them are convinced their children are far more intelligent and well behaved than they are. It is miraculous how many children in the world are the pinnacle of perfection, and heaven forfend if I claim otherwise.”
With a heavy sigh, Miss Delmonte turned her gaze to the fireplace. The light played off her features, catching the brown in her eyes as they stared into the flaming depths like it held all the answers to her problems. Silas wished he had the solution she sought, for he would dearly love to erase the concern furrowing her brow.
“I feel I am caught in an impossible situation,” she said. “To secure my future finances I must either alter my current profession into something I do not wish it to be or spend my life forgoing any of the little pleasures I afford myself. I am not afraid of hard work or sacrifice, but it seems I am bound to spend the majority of my life in misery so I might protect myself against future pain. Am I destined to be unhappy now so I might guard myself against future unhappiness? I have no answers, Mr. Byrnes.”
Then with a shake of her head, Miss Delmonte turned her attention back to him, meeting him with a chagrined smile. “As I said, I fear I’m in a maudlin mood tonight. Pay me no heed. I shall sort it out.”
Leaning forward, Silas braced his elbows on his knees. “But you needn’t do it alone, Miss Delmonte. I cannot claim to have the solutions you seek, but one clear course is for you to invest your savings. There is no need to let it gather dust when it could be working for you.”
Miss Delmonte frowned. “I tried placing some of my savings with a bank some years ago but lost it all when the institution closed. I fear I know nothing about such things.”
With a raise of his brows, Silas smiled. “Your delightful and very accommodating employer does.” But he paused and considered that. “Or rather, I know of someone who does. Hatch is a dab hand at finances, and he handles all the business’s investments and our personal accounts. He is far more skilled than I, and I can guarantee he will increase whatever amount you have far more than any bank.”
Gathering up her things, Miss Delmonte packed up her sewing bag. “My thanks for your advice. I shall consider it.”
But Silas watched her with narrowed eyes. “That sounds like a refusal.”
The lady paused. “In all honesty, I do not wish to inconvenience Mr. Hatcher.”
It took no grand leap of logic for Silas to know precisely why she was so very hesitant. “I give you my word that he is far kinder than he appears to be. I am certain he would welcome the opportunity to assist you.”
Placing the last of her things in the bag, she closed it and shook her head. “I appreciate your concern and assurances, but I fear I do not know Mr. Hatcher well enough to ask him such a favor. I cannot afford to hire him, and as he is hardly more than a stranger to me, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to cast myself upon his charity.”
Miss Delmonte rose to her feet, and Silas joined her, his thoughts racing through anything he might say to keep her seated longer. There was no need for her to leave. Not yet. But Silas couldn’t give voice to the pleading words playing through his thoughts. Jittery energy coursed through him, making any attempt to retire to bed impossible, even if he wished to return to his empty bedchamber and frigid bedsheets.
“I could speak to him for you, if you wish,” he said. “It would be no bother—”
“Thank you, Mr. Byrnes, but such a request ought to come from me,” she said, casting the costume over her forearm as she turned to the library door.
Stepping closer, Silas struggled to know what to say to change the current outcome. He fiddled with the edge of his dressing gown, tightening the cinch at his waist. “If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to say so. You may be my children’s governess, but I think of you as a friend. I hope you do, too.”
Miss Delmonte faced him, her eyes meeting his with a smile. “You are perhaps the first friend I have had in many years, Mr. Byrnes.”
Those expressive eyes of hers spoke of so many feelings, though Silas could not separate one from another. The edge of her dressing gown brushed against his, and Silas wasn’t certain when he’d moved so close to her. His hand brushed across her arm, and Silas’s gaze dropped to that fleeting touch.
“It is getting late, Mr. Byrnes,” she whispered, clutching her sewing bag to her chest. “I’d best retire to bed if I am to be of any use tomorrow.”
Silas nodded, unable to form any proper words, and Miss Delmonte stepped away. A moment later, the door shut behind her, and he was alone once more.
Chapter 15
Upon first inspection, the bedchamber was black as pitch, swallowing every vestige of light into its inky depths. But as Judith stared at the ceiling the slightest variations of light made themselves known. There were no gas lamps or candlelight to be found, but the faint moonlight worked its way past the edges of her curtains, providing just enough to illuminate the edges of the larger bits of furniture. The more she studied it, the clearer it became.
Judith turned onto her side, shifting her pillow and bedcovers around her as she tried to find a more comfortable position.
Good gracious, if she didn’t fall asleep soon, she would be useless tomorrow—or today rather, as it was well past midnight.
In the deep silence of the night, she’d heard Mr. Byrnes return to his bedchamber. No doubt, he was now tucked back into bed and fast asleep. Though it had been she who’d retired first, Judith had no doubt it would be she who fell asleep last.
No matter how exhausted her body was, her mind could not stop pondering all the little things of her life. The costumes were coming along, and no doubt all would be ready in time, but thoughts of trimmings and stitches kept surfacing whenever she tried to quiet her thoughts. Then there were all the worries that had driven her into the library. To say nothing of what happened once there.
Judith ought to feel embarrassed, and while that sentiment plagued her in the beginning, it troubled her very little any longer. The line had been crossed. The decision was made. Tonight, she had chosen to speak to Mr. Byrnes as a confidant. Now that she’d taken that step, Judith’s fears couldn’t be bothered any longer.
