Martin offered her a hand to stand, but Judith shook her head, somehow managing to say, “Might I have a few moments alone?”
“Certainly,” he said with a nod. Then, turning on his heel, Martin wandered out of the clearing and into the woods beyond.
Pressing a hand to her mouth, Judith strained against the pressure building inside her. As much as his offer made perfect sense, she couldn’t help but hear the truth beneath his offer, the self-same fact that had been impressed upon her since her first foray into courtship—Judith Delmonte was the convenient option. Not desirable in any womanly fashion, but a perfect substitute when one cannot find a romantic prospect.
Nearly perfect. But not quite.
Having every quality a man could desire. Except desire.
A primecandidate.
A sob broke through, drawing with it the tears she’d held at bay, and Judith bowed over, clutched at her stomach as the forest rang with the sounds of her sorrow. Would no one ever fancy her as something more than a helpmate? Love her for her sake and not their children’s? Propose because they adored her beyond all reason?
The answer poked and prodded her as the tears fell.
No, they would not.
Chapter 34
Aship is not a restful place. With so many sailors bunking together in tight quarters, there was never a quiet moment, and the men were always ready to be thrown into action at a moment’s notice. Silas had suffered many sleepless nights and grueling days, but at present, he was certain he’d never been more exhausted in his life. The carriage rocked, and Silas’s eyelids drooped, struggling against the fight of gravity. In truth, he wasn’t certain why he was worn to a thread, but from the moment he’d awoken this morning, he’d slogged through the minutia of his day.
A little hand poked his face.
“Stop that,” whispered Felix, and Silas cracked open an eye to find Leah staring at him with a grin.
“Papa is sleeping,” she said.
“Papa is trying to sleep,” Silas corrected, stifling a yawn.
The horses pulled to a stop, and Silas gathered his remaining strength and opened the door, ushering the children onto the Slades’ front step. Silencing his nerves, he guided the children to the stairs that led to the townhouse atop the family’s shop, and soon they were ushered into the Slades’ parlor. The children spread out, poking into all the corners their aunt would likely not wish them to explore as there were far too many delicate and precious decorations scattered across the shelves and end tables, all of which begged the children to touch.
Silas rocked on his heels, reciting once more what he’d planned to say.
“Goodness, what are you doing here today?” asked Ruth as she swept in and greeted her nieces and nephews. The children swarmed their aunt, talking all at once about all the pressing details of their lives she needed to know that very minute.
“I hope we aren’t intruding,” said Silas, shifting from foot to foot. They’d been happily avoiding each other for the last few weeks, and he wasn’t entirely at ease with breaking the silence. “But I was hoping the children might visit you for a few hours. It’s Nurse Johnson’s half-day, Mrs. Barton and the rest of the staff are occupied with their work, and Miss Delmonte is still visiting her family. I fear I have some business to attend to, and I do not wish for Felix to shoulder the burden on his own when I do not know how long it shall take—”
But Ruth waved away the explanation. “Certainly, Silas. The children are always welcome here.” Then, turning to the children, she added, “And you are just in time. Cook has prepared some biscuits. If you sneak down to the kitchen, I am certain she will give you some.”
Griffith and Leah sped off with Felix calling after them to slow down, though he looked quite as eager for the treats. Helen trailed behind, casting a look over her shoulder at her papa. Silas waved farewell, and there was a long moment before she returned it—but she did return it. Silas grinned as she hurried after her siblings.
The room fell silent, and Silas’s ear rang as he let out a low sigh. As much as he adored them, they were louder than a shipful of drunk sailors.
“My thanks, Ruth,” he said with a bow. “I hope to have my business concluded in three hours, though I cannot be certain of it. I shall send word if I am longer.”
Ruth bobbed, but something in her expression gave Silas pause. She stood there with that impeccable rigidity that was her and Deborah’s hallmark, her hands clenched before her. Her gaze was not on him, but her mouth opened as though she wished to speak.
“Are you unwell?” he asked.
“I—” Ruth paused, the silence drawing out until Silas was certain she’d forgotten he was standing there, but when he turned to leave once more, she stopped him again.
“I owe you an apology,” she whispered.
Silas stiffened, his eyes widening as he stared at his sister-in-law.
Ruth huffed. “You needn’t look so shocked, Silas. I am capable of apologizing and admitting fault, you know.”
With a huff of his own, Silas replied, “I was not aware of that as I have never heard those words from your lips before.”
