This was nonsense. A sickbed romance was precisely the sort of ridiculous thing that got people into trouble by conflating the shared experience into something grander than it was. No doubt, Mr. Byrnes would mistake this new sense of appreciation and gratitude for love, which would fade after the marriage vows were spoken, and Judith would find herself bound to a man filled with regrets.
Hope was not her friend. It filled her head and heart with fancies that could not be. Judith knew her worth and loved the woman she was, but that was not the sort of woman who drove men to distraction. Judith was steadfast and reliable. A good woman to have around, but not one who inspired thoughts of passion or romance except in a dark library on a lonely night when no better option presented itself. No amount of wishing would alter that, and she would not allow this errant hope to lead her astray
“And how are you this afternoon?” he asked with a broad smile.
Judith shoved the needle into her pincushion and straightened. “I have made inquiries concerning another position.”
Mr. Byrnes stiffened, his eyes widening as he stared at her. “Another position?”
“I began before I left for Yorkshire. My time away halted the process, but I have begun sorting through the responses I received during my absence.” Judith cleared her throat and added, “I thought it best to inform you so you may begin searching for a new governess.”
The silence drew out for a long, excruciating moment, but Judith held his gaze, ignoring how wide his eyes were at that moment.
“You wish to leave?” he whispered.
Judith’s heart pressed against her ribs, pushing her to answer truthfully, but she hushed it. “It is for the best.”
Gathering up her sewing, she rose to her feet and moved from his bedside. Her gaze fell to the seat, her legs longing to drop her back into it. If she was to find a new position, surely, there was no harm in enjoying the time she had. But the strength of that desire was the exact reason she ought not to.
“As you are on the mend, I think it time I return to my duties with the children,” she said, clutching her sewing bag. Judith couldn’t meet his gaze as she stepped farther away. “Beth and Maria can see to anything you need.”
“Miss Delmonte—”
But Judith turned and slipped through the door before her resolve crumbled at last.
Chapter 38
Most people enjoyed sleep, and before recent events, Silas had been among their ranks. But of late, his heart sank whenever exhaustion forced his eyes closed; the sight that greeted him when his eyes opened was far too enticing for him to prefer unconsciousness. Silas roused himself, pulling his eyelids open the moment he was coherent enough to do so, and his lips pulled into a grin as he turned his gaze to the chair at his bedside. But it fled at the sight of someone who was decidedly not Miss Delmonte.
“A fellow might be offended after such a greeting,” said Hatch, his gaze narrowing.
“A fellow might think he’d awaken to a nightmare when faced with you first thing,” mumbled Silas in response.
Hatch blinked at him, looking neither put out nor amused by the jest. After a few silent seconds, a faint smile lifted the corner of his lips. “I suppose it would be quite disappointing to find me sitting here when you were expecting someone altogether different.”
“Are you teasing me, Hatch?” he asked with raised brows. “It is heartless of you to make light of my situation.”
“You are on the mend,” he replied with a dry tone.
Silas narrowed his gaze, fixing it on his friend. “Now, I know you are twitting me.”
But the only sign of agreement was a slight (so faint Silas could hardly say it was there) spark of humor to Hatch’s gaze.
“You shouldn’t mock me, Hatch,” he mumbled, turning his gaze to the canopy. “I am in dire straits. No matter how I try to convince Miss Delmonte of my affection, she refuses to believe me. And now, my time is growing ever shorter as she is hunting for a new position.”
Silas’s heart felt like a great boulder, pressing him into the mattress, and the more he considered Miss Delmonte’s announcement, the heavier it grew. The weeks she was in Yorkshire were difficult enough; the thought of her boarding a carriage with no plans to return made his head ache far worse than any illness. The days were passing too quickly, and Silas longed to cast off the bedcovers. How was a man to win a woman’s heart when trapped in bed? Silas needed to be out in the world, scouring for some gesture that would convince her he was in earnest.
“I’ve managed to win her friendship again, but how can I make her believe I adore her?” he whispered.
A grunt drew Silas’s gaze, and the fellow merely shrugged. “She has reason enough to doubt you.”
Silas sighed and pinched his nose. “She told you about our kiss.”
Hatch’s eyes widened, staring at him long enough that Silas began fidgeting with the bedcovers.
“I suppose that means she did not,” mumbled Silas.
With a shake of his head, Hatch let out a huff. “No, she did not, though I have long suspected something had happened. I hadn’t thought…”
