Page 6 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

Her gloved hand came up and took one of his in a gentle grasp. Silas made eye contact with her, surprised to see a reassuring expression upon her lovely face.

“This is not your fault, Silas,” she said quietly, his Christian name slipping most naturally from her, causing an odd sort of prickle in his chest. But of course, how often had she shouted at him to slow down, to come back, to stop playing tricks on her? She had always called him Silas, until they had gone away to live with their stepfamily. “I will be fully recovered in next to no time, and I would do it again.”

Caught in her deep brown eyes, Silas did not look away, nor loose his hand from hers. He leaned forward, speaking as though he shared a secret. “If Isaac was here, he would berate me soundly for needing his little Essie to save me.” Her eyebrows raised at the childhood name. “If I had paid attention, none of this would have happened.”

The moment stretched long, until he became aware of the way their breaths had synchronized, quiet and deep. The sunlight filtering in through the tall windows warmed the room, though he thought something else likely caused the heat creeping up his neck and the answering blush on her own.

A loud slam startled him out of the silent exchange. A tightness in his chest, one he hadn’t been aware of, gave one last squeeze before vanishing. Silas stood, ready to investigate the noise, when the rather shrill voice of a woman filled the entry hall beyond the closed door.

“Where is she? Where is my Esther? Is she well? Oh, she is ruined, even if she is well,” the voice loudly proclaimed.

Frowning, Silas looked down at Esther, who appeared paler and more pained than she had the entire time he had been sitting with her.

“Diana,” she whispered, then squeezed her eyes shut. “Good luck, Lord Inglewood.”

Silas did not have time to be disappointed in her use of his title before the door to the parlor opened, another footman scuttling out of the way of a rampaging woman.

Mrs. Aubrey proved to be a formidable looking woman, nearly as tall as Silas. Dressed in deep purples, she put him in mind of an oncoming thunderstorm, sailing into the room with unexpected urgency and bluster.

“Esther,” she shouted, causing even Silas to wince. “Oh, my poor girl, my poor darling child.” She hardly spared a glance at Silas, though he stumbled backward out of her way, before throwing herself on the ground next to the couch. She took up one of Esther’s hands and patted it rather forcefully. Esther had opened her eyes, though she cringed, and attempted to speak several times only to be cut off again by the exuberant Mrs. Aubrey.

“Are you fainted, my dear? Are you able to speak? I have heard the whole of it from that feather-brained Miss Linton, and your maid. You poor darling. What were you thinking? My little heroine.” She abruptly stopped her patting and withdrew a handkerchief directly from her bosom, along with the overwhelming scent of flowery perfume, using it to stop a sudden onslaught of tears.

Silas might have been entertained, had he not seen Esther’s discomfort.

“Mrs. Aubrey,” he said, presuming to forgo an introduction. “Your sister-in-law is injured. The doctor has asked that we keep her from overexcitement.”

The woman’s tears stopped as abruptly as they started, and she rose to her feet with almost an unnatural swiftness. “You,” she said, pointing a gloved finger at Silas’s chest with as much force as one might put into a rapier thrust. “What are you going to do about this?”

Silas, folded his arms defensively, and glared at her. “What do you mean, madam?”

She drew herself up to her rather impressive height, a large silk blossom in her hat waving dangerously. “You have ruined her.”

Chapter Two

Esther drew in a sharp breath, growing cold. “He has what?”

Despite the unfortunate cause leading to their exchange, Esther had rather enjoyed her conversation with Silas. Until Diana barged in with her enthusiastic concern. But the strange accusation, directed at one of Isaac’s oldest friends, and an earl at that, ruined everything. Apparently, the ruination included her.

“Whatever do you mean, Diana?” she asked when Silas continued to stare at her. Preoccupied with her health and his, she had not really analyzed the circumstances that brought them together. Had they done something wrong?

Her attention flicked to the footman still standing against the wall. “We have not been alone for even an instant,” she said, trying to assuage Diana’s concerns.

“Be that as it may,” the woman said, still glaring at Silas, “practically the whole of society saw you in a most compromising position with Lord Inglewood. That addlepated Miss Linton was beside herself with fear. She was also spouting the most ridiculous notion of you saving a peer’s life as something romantic.”

Diana finally turned away from Silas to cast a most pitying look down at Esther. “All along my way here, people tried to stop me to discuss the matter. I felt I was outrunning their gossip as much as coming to see to you. My poor dear.”

If she was called a poor dear one more time, Esther might well faint from irritation. Could one faint from such a thing?

“I cannot see how such a selfless act could lead to Miss Fox’s ruin,” Silas said, his deep voice slow and most uncertain. Esther, only able to move her eyes, could not see his face. Diana stood squarely between them, but when she rounded once more on the lord, Esther caught a brief glimpse of his darkened expression.

“Can you not?” Diana challenged, spreading her hands wide as though to present to him the situation in its entirety. “On one of the most dignified streets in the kingdom, Esther Fox, sister of a baronet and under my husband’s protection, threw herself into the arms of a well-known peer. With enough force to knock him into the ground. She then remained on the ground, for longer than necessary if Miss Linton is to be believed, on top of that peer. When she was finally moved, she was carried away in your arms, into a house, behind closed doors.”

“Followed by her friend and servants,” he said, sounding most defensive.

Oh dear.

“Anyone who saw what happened could not think it terrible,” Esther said, trying in vain to remember who had been gathered on the walkway. She could not remember if anyone of importance had watched the spectacle. “It will be forgotten in a few days.”