Miss Delmonte nodded, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind her. But a glimpse of a black-rimmed letter on her bed had Silas frowning.
“Are your aunt and uncle unwell?” he asked.
The lady frowned. “That is what you wished to ask me?”
“No, but I wish to know all the same.”
Miss Delmonte ran a hand down her front, straightening her skirt. “They are both healthy.” Silas opened his mouth, but she added, “There is no need to bother yourself with such matters, sir. What do you wish to speak to me about?”
Silas let out a soft sigh, his heart sinking at that blatant dismissal. But he turned his thoughts to the present: he would know soon enough once things were settled between them.
“I need to apologize for last night,” he began, but Miss Delmonte stiffened, her gaze darting up and down the hall.
“You needn’t, Mr. Byrnes,” she whispered. “It is quite forgotten.”
“And that is a blatant falsehood,” he replied with an arched brow.
Miss Delmonte squared her shoulders, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in a breath, and Silas hid the smile at that display of spirit.
“It may not be forgotten, Mr. Byrnes, but it does no good to speak of it.”
Silas shook his head. “You deserve a proper apology. I hadn’t intended to treat you in such a fashion, and you were entirely justified in accusing me of behaving poorly. I confused my loneliness and gratitude for something more, and that was shameful.”
Miss Delmonte sucked in a silent breath, and her body tensed, the muscles in her neck straining as Silas fought for the right words.
“I deserve to be flogged for taking such liberties, Miss Delmonte, and I can only hope you will forgive my atrocious behavior.”
Her gaze turned once more to the hall, and she frowned. “That is all well and good, but do you wish to ruin my reputation by speaking of such things? And here of all places? If anyone should happen upon us…”
Silas winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. For all his thoughts of privacy, he hadn’t considered that. His inexperience with wooing women was certainly making itself known in terrible ways. “I am making a muck of things, aren’t I?”
“Let us speak of it no more, sir.” Miss Delmonte moved to her bedchamber door, and Silas held out a staying hand.
“No, please. There is more to say, and I am being a clod, but I need to speak with you about the future.”
Miss Delmonte remained pressed against the door, and Silas moved back a pace to give her plenty of space, but she watched him with narrow eyes.
“The past five weeks have proven we suit each other. Far better than I could’ve imagined, in fact.” Silas took a fortifying breath, hoping it would clear his thoughts, but it did little, so he forged ahead. “I returned home fully intending to marry again—”
“No, Mr. Byrnes,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“Please allow me to explain, Miss Delmonte,” he said with a smile he hoped was reassuring. He longed to usher her into her bedchamber where she might be more at ease, but even a clod such as himself knew better than that. Perhaps he ought to have summoned her to the study instead, where they could discuss this in a more comfortable setting.
“My behavior last night is enough of a reason for me to make things right,” he said, digging through the jumble of rationales that had driven him to her bedchamber door.
Miss Delmonte flushed, her gaze dropping to the floor as she clenched her skirts. Clearing his throat, Silas tried another tack.
“When I stepped off the ship and considered the future that lay ahead of me, I knew I wanted a wife and a proper marriage.” Silas paused and waved his hand as though trying to hurry his scattered thoughts forward. “I haven’t been able to make much headway on that front, but I realize there is no need when the answer is standing before me—”
“Please stop, Mr. Byrnes,” she said, shaking her head without looking at him directly. “There is no need to continue. I have heard that speech before.”
Silas’s brows rose. “You have?”
But she did not answer, saying instead, “It is always filled with compliments about my way with children and how much their brood adores me. How perfectly I fit into their life. How comfortable I am to have around. With great eloquence, they speak of my good nature and reliability as though inspecting a horse. And you must forgive me if I do not swoon at the prospect of entering a marriage of convenience—no matter how convenient it is to you.”
Shaking his head, Silas frowned at her, though she did not meet his eye to see it. “This is not a matter of convenience or duty, Miss Delmonte—”
“Enough, sir,” she said, raising a hand to forestall his continued rambling. “Would you have given me a second thought if I hadn’t shamed you last night?”
