Page 22 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

“Perhaps.” She turned away from him again. “The idea of a holiday after everything that has happened is somewhat appealing, I suppose.”

Good. That was a far better attitude than before. “I promise to come home as quickly as possible.” He tried to speak firmly, to reassure her. "The war is nearly over, and everyone will wish to celebrate after the important decisions are made.”

“We have thought it was over before,” Esther reminded him. “Before Isaac left.” She nibbled at her bottom lip.

Had Silas sat beside her, he might have reached for her hand, or offered a consoling pat on her arm. What sort of husband would he make without offering comfort in her distress? Then he saw her tears. Silas hesitated a moment, long enough for those tears to fall. He sprang across the carriage to her side and put his arm around her.

To his immense relief, she did not shrug him off or turn away. She leaned into him, her back against his chest, and made a lace handkerchief appear from nowhere to dab at her eyes.

“I am sorry he is not here,” Silas said quietly. The back of her bonnet did not entirely obscure her light brown curls, dancing lightly against her long, smooth neck. He started to feel light-headed and it occurred to him he needed to breathe. When Silas discreetly pulled in air, the most delicious scent teased him. His bride. Esther smelled of the spring, of flowers and gentle breezes.

The sister of a baronet might not be viewed as the best choice of bride for an earl, but Silas regretted nothing in those moments of holding her. If all of his vows were so pleasant to fulfill as comforting her, marriage could prove more pleasant than he’d ever hoped.

In time, she collected herself. “A bride should not show up to the wedding breakfast with swollen eyes,” she said, moving away from him. “Is it very noticeable?” she asked, turning her face up to his.

Silas dutifully studied her, but became rather lost in the rich, earthy color of her eyes and her soft round cheeks. What was he supposed to do? Check for evidence of tears. He studied the skin just below her eyes, the tops of her cheeks, the smooth planes of her face down to her chin, and then necessarily her lips. “Everything appears in order, my lady,” he said, somewhat huskily.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you coming down with a cold, Silas?”

He moved as far from her as the carriage seat would allow. “No.” He cleared his throat. “Nothing a little lemonade will not cure.”

She nodded and looked out the window again. “Why are we passing the mill? Everyone will be waiting for us.”

Silas said nothing, watching her. What was happening to him? A few minutes as a married man and he had gone completely weak over a lovely face and the scent of a woman. As someone who had not given a great deal of thought to marriage before, he wondered if this was natural. Esther’s tears had only stirred his desire to protect her. Though he had found her attractive from the moment he found her in his arms in London.

There simply wasn’t time to be distracted by his wife. Even if he had the ability to remain at home, Esther most certainly did not like him at the moment. Giving her time to get used to the situation would be for the best. He would go back to Town, she must necessarily remain behind. He would repair their reputation as a couple, see to his work in Parliament, and return to begin his marriage on the right footing.

Chapter Nine

The crash of the waves reached Esther through the open windows of her new bedroom. The countess’s rooms at Inglewood Keep were spacious and bright. The wooden floors were covered in deep blue carpets, the wallpaper pattern consisting of twisting ivy in the palest green. Her bed was covered in soft blue linens, which matched the curtains. The colors of the ocean and the birch trees surrounding the estate were in the room with her, cradling her in familiar comfort, though she had never stepped into the room before.

Esther walked across her new quarters in wonder, moving the curtains out of her way. A balcony. She had seen it, many times, from outside the estate, but had never realized it was part of the master suite of rooms. She looked to the side and saw the door that must lead to Silas’s chamber. There was a connecting door in their rooms, too, as was to be expected.

Pulling her eyes away from the door, Esther stared out to sea. The rolling blue and gray water raced up to the beach, then crept out again to repeat the exercise. The salty air filled her lungs and Esther began to feel the ache in her chest diminish a fraction.

Somehow, she had gotten through the wedding breakfast. People she barely remembered from childhood wished her well, more familiar neighbors asked her when Isaac might return to resume his place in the neighborhood—a place that had been empty too long. Smiling and attempting to replace her upset with fortitude, Esther hoped she had been an example of grace and nobility. That was her duty now, to represent Silas in a manner that would not shame him.

Thankfully, without falling statues or brooks running through the Everlys’ house, she had managed not to create a scene.

The click of a latch alerted her that she was no longer alone on the balcony. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, willing a few more quiet seconds to herself.

“This is my favorite view,” Silas said, shattering the silence.

Esther looked to the sea again. “I can understand why. I hope you will not mind sharing it with me.”

He stayed on his side of the balcony, going to the railing and leaning against it. “Not at all. It belongs to you now, too.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then took a step back. “Excuse me, my lord. I am over-tired from the day’s events. I think a nap is in order.”

His stony composure cracked only enough for him to raise his eyebrows at her. “Of course. Rest well. I will see you at dinner.”

She nodded and departed, closing her balcony door firmly behind her. Mary was bustling about the room, her whole demeanor one of disbelief.

“Beggin’ your pardon, my lady. But are you certain it’s me you want to wait on you? It was all well and good when you lived with the Aubrey family. But now you’re a countess.” She whispered the title reverently, as if she’d encountered the queen herself.

Esther hurried forward and took her maid by the hands. “Mary Howard, I do not want you to ever, ever consider leaving my service. This is a new world for me, too, and I would not feel confident asking anyone else to come and learn with me. I quite depend upon you. There is no one who is so cunning with my hair, or who knows my likes and dislikes so well. And what is more, you are firmly loyal. I need never fear you would gossip about me to others in the household.” She squeezed Mary’s hands gently. “I trust you, Mary. I need you.”

Mary nodded, tears appearing in her eyes. “Thank you, my lady. I didn’t know I meant as much to you.”