Sinking into an armchair, Silas listened as she spoke with the children, consoling himself that Miss Delmonte cast him more than a few looks as she spoke. Had she missed him as thoroughly as he had her?
Eventually, the children’s attention waned, and they returned to their previous entertainments, leaving Miss Delmonte free to freshen up in her bedchamber, though Silas couldn’t let the moment slip by. He followed her out into the hall and found her waiting for him.
“We are all very pleased you’ve returned.” Silas’s voice came out weak, and he cleared his throat. “Six weeks was far too long.”
“I do apologize for it. I hadn’t intended to spend so much time away.”
Silas shook his head. “I hadn’t meant it as a censure.”
Miss Delmonte let out a sigh and nodded. “I—” Her voice trembled, and she swallowed, clutching the miniatures close. “I cannot tell you how much this means to me. Though you’ve given Griffith the credit, I know who truly deserves it.”
His head swam, his legs growing weak as he stared into her eyes. “I only wish I could’ve restored the sketchbook in its entirety and undo all the damage that was done.” He let out a huff. “There is so much I wish I could do for you.”
Her brows rose. “Sir?”
Gathering his thoughts together, he tried to choose the right words to explain just how happy he was to have her near once more. But Miss Delmonte frowned.
“Are you certain you are well, Mr. Byrnes? You look peaked.”
Shrugging it off, Silas waved it away. “I have been fatigued of late, but it is of no concern. And I’d rather speak to you about a very important subject.”
Heavens, he was tired and having Miss Delmonte comment on it brought the exhaustion out in force. Even with Nurse Johnson handling the majority of the children’s needs, the past six weeks had been taxing, with the last few days proving even more so. Business hadn’t helped matters, and Silas was in need of a rest. But not before he said that which needed saying.
“Would you accompany me on a drive tomorrow?” he asked.
Miss Delmonte’s brows drew together. “If you wish for an outing with the children, I can arrange it, but you hardly look fit—”
Silas shook his head. “Not the children. You and me. The two of us alone.”
“If you need to speak to me concerning the children—”
“It has nothing to do with the children, Miss Delmonte.” Despite his resolution to pursue her in earnest, Silas struggled to say more than that. No other lady needed such a clear declaration, and it was far too awkward to announce to a lady that he wished to court her. How did one even phrase such a thing? Instead, he allowed his tone to carry the meaning through.
“I wish to go on a drive with you alone, Miss Delmonte. Or perhaps we might go on a picnic together—”
“You look ready to collapse, Mr. Byrnes,” she murmured, studying his face. Then lifting her hand to his forehead, she pressed her fingers to the skin. Silas’s pulse picked up, and he leaned closer, but Miss Delmonte did not notice. “Sir, you have a fever.”
“I am well enough.” There was no helping matters. If Miss Delmonte required a more direct explanation, he would gladly give it if it gained her acceptance. “I have spent much time thinking while you were gone—”
“And clearly, you have not been taking care of yourself,” she said with a frown. “You must go to bed this instant.”
Silas shook his head, though it made his thoughts swim. “No, I need to tell you I am certain my feelings are true. It is not convenience that drives my desire for you.”
Miss Delmonte sighed. “The fever has addled your wits.”
Turning him to the stairs, she called for Hatch.
“I am in earnest,” he said, though his legs quivered, and Silas was beginning to think it wasn’t entirely due to the anticipation of seeing Miss Delmonte again. “I—”
But she held up a staying hand. “Please, I am in no mood for yet another proposal of marriage. We need to get you abed this minute.”
“Another proposal?” Silas gaped at that, but then a footman and Hatch descended upon him, ushering him up the stairs and into his bedchamber before he could demand an answer from her. And perhaps it was knowing Miss Delmonte was nearby to manage things or her drawing his attention to his weakened state, but Silas’s strength ebbed, failing him just as they helped him into bed.
Chapter 36
Darkness filled the room, making it difficult for Judith to tell if she were awake or asleep. Just as she was convinced the knock had been in her dreams, another sounded at the door. Judith lit a candle and pulled on her dressing gown before opening the door.
“Please, miss,” said Maria with a bob, “Mr. Hatcher is asking for you.”
