In quick succession, Judith had herself up the stairs, secured in her bedchamber, and ripping open the envelope. The signature at the bottom testified the letter didn’t concern her aunt as she was the one who’d written it. With hand raised to her lips, Judith read and reread the lines as she backed into her bed and sat down.
Chloe and her babe? Such losses were not uncommon when bringing life into the world, but her cousin had such a strong constitution, and she had delivered many children before. How was it possible?
Then her mind spun with thoughts of Chloe’s other children and poor Martin. Her throat ached and tears gathered as she considered what the loss would do to them. The little dears without their doting mama. The adoring husband without his beloved wife. Her arms longed to pull them all into her embrace, but there was nothing she could do for them. Such heartache was not so easily healed.
Judith leaned forward and pressed a hand to her stomach, though the touch did not calm the roiling mess inside her as she mourned for the family now pulled apart.
*
Movement drew Silas’s attention, but the doorway was empty when he looked up. Only the edge of a skirt gave any hint as to who had been standing there, but he knew that gown. Silas nearly leapt to his feet that very moment, but for all the brooding he’d done since last night, he still wasn’t certain what to say to Miss Delmonte. Luckily, she seemed equally determined to avoid him.
“Papa, don’t tickle me.” Leah’s words were broken by laughter, the wide smiles belying the words she spoke, and then she drew her fingers up like little claws and attacked his waistcoat. Silas gave an obliging laugh, and Griffith climbed atop the sofa once more and launched himself at his father’s back, nearly knocking Silas and Leah on the floor.
“Careful, now,” he said, helping Griffith to the ground. “Do you want more of the story?”
Leah nodded, and the pair snuggled into either side of him. Silas’s heart sighed at the feel of them cuddled close, and he pressed a kiss to both of their heads. When he raised his gaze, he found Helen watching him, though she pretended to be occupied with her own book. Silas sighed and wondered how he was going to mend things with her.
Taking the storybook in hand, he began to read, though it required far too little of his thoughts. And there were far too many pressing things willing to occupy the free space—much of which surrounded the governess. It had been many hours since Miss Delmonte had fled the library, and Silas was no closer to understanding what had happened.
He recalled the entire interlude with as much clarity as one can have in such charged moments, but Silas could not comprehend what had possessed him to kiss her. For though Miss Delmonte’s accusation stung, Silas couldn’t deny that gentlemen did not behave in such a fashion with a lady. If it had been a small token then perhaps it could’ve been forgotten or ignored, but what they’d shared went far beyond that. The moment they’d embraced, all reason and sound judgment fled, and greed seized control, demanding he take more.
Good gracious.
Silas stiffened at that thought and winced at that unintended phrasing; Miss Delmonte used it far too much, and it was beginning to seep into his own vernacular. But it was fitting at this moment. Good gracious, what had he been thinking? Miss Delmonte’s question scalded his thoughts as it replayed again.
“Can you tell me with utter honesty that this was born of proper and honest love and not just you seeking a bit of solace after a long and trying day?”And when pressed to answer, Silas hadn’t been able to face the truth then; with some time to consider, he had to accept the truth. His motives had been closer to the latter and not the former. He hadn’t intended to treat her so unjustly, but Miss Delmonte had a way of calming the storms around him, and at that moment, he’d needed her peace.
His narration broke, his throat tightening as he struggled to get the words out. Shutting the book closed, he said, “Perhaps we might continue tomorrow.”
Leah and Griffith voiced their objections, but Nurse Johnson gathered the children up to the nursery (though not before extracting grand promises from their papa that he would compensate them in some sugary manner). Even as distracted as he was, Silas didn’t miss Helen’s determined snub as they left.
With a sigh, Silas unbuttoned his waistcoat and leaned his arms across the back of the sofa. His thoughts were too scattered at present to do anything more than sit about and contemplate the situation in which he’d landed. Thoughts blurred together as he mulled it over. In so many ways, his life at Stowell Cottage had not gone as anticipated.
His children were complicated, and winning their affection was proving far more arduous than he’d expected. Then there were the never-ending demands of the household that needed overseeing. Silas hoped Deborah sensed his feelings and understood how he appreciated all she’d done on that behalf; so much of her work had been unseen, and Silas was only now realizing how little credit he’d given her for keeping everything afloat, especially when he was gone so often. He had enough on his plate without struggling with household accounts, the demands of Mrs. Barton, and overseeing the nursery. His business was not floundering, but there were far more problems and concerns than anticipated.
All of which left him with no time to find himself a proper wife. Choosing had seemed so wonderful and simple at the same time—court a lady, capture her heart, and marry. The hurdles he’d faced as a younger man were no longer an issue, for he had all the worldly considerations that required young chaps to wait for wedded bliss; now, he only lacked the time, and courting was proving no easier than before.
Yet fate had dropped a prime option in his lap.
Miss Delmonte was delightful. She was intelligent and kind. They shared an easy friendship. And though Miss Delmonte wasn’t a beautiful woman, last night had proven that attraction existed on both sides. By Jove, it was rather perfect, and Silas didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before.
Chapter 20
Rising to his feet, Silas followed the path to Miss Delmonte’s quarters. Perhaps he ought to send for her, but that felt far too similar to a master summoning a servant; a fellow asking a lady to marry him ought not to approach it in such a fashion. The servants would be about their business, so that area of the house would provide them with some privacy for such a discussion.
In quick time, Silas stood before her door and gave it a firm rap. Tucking his hands behind him, he considered the various scenarios in which to broach the subject, though he had little time to think it through before the door inched open.
Miss Delmonte’s eyes widened, and she straightened. “Do you need me, sir?”
But Silas’s brow furrowed at the redness of her eyes and the clear signs of tears that had only just been wiped clean. “Have you been crying?”
She gave the barest of flinches but remained silent.
“Has something happened?” But Silas felt a supreme urge to kick himself at that ridiculous question. His chest squeezed at the memory of the previous night when she’d fled the library in near tears. And now, he stood there like a lump, asking her if something was amiss?
“Do you need me, sir?” she repeated.
“I wished to speak with you.”
