Page 45 of To Break the Rules

14th July 1814. Friday Street, Cheapside, London.

To his intense frustration, Silas’ plans were thwarted. There was no answer at Friday Street the next day and he was kept so busy with commitments and business affairs it was four days before he saw Lucia’s ayah.

Shrimati Dharani Das was a small woman with eyes of startling intensity. Feeling suddenly as though he was a wet behind the ears youth instead of a viscount, he greeted her politely and sat when she bade him do so.

She stared at him, smiling in a manner that made him uncomfortable. As before, her clothes were a splash of unexpected colour in the dim light of the parlour: a vivid emerald green which made him think of Lucia and everything that was fresh and lovely. The colour was surprising on such an elderly lady and gave her a sense of vibrancy that perhaps belied her advanced years. A plait of thick white hair fell over one shoulder and she toyed with it, sliding it between gnarled, arthritic fingers as she studied him.

His gaze was drawn to the dot of red paint between her brows, the strangest sensation rolling over him that she could see more than he would allow if he wasn’t on his guard. This woman, like Lucia, protected secrets, he thought, as he did his best to hold the intensity of her gaze.

“So,” she said at last, “what stories do you think you can winkle out of me that Miss de Feria has refused to allow you?”

Silas gave a soft huff of laughter, relieved by her direct approach.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, smiling a little. “I only know the young lady is full of secrets, and I fear for her.”

“Why?” she asked, a flash of interest in her dark eyes. “You think she doesn’t have courage enough? You think she needs a man to protect her?”

There was scorn behind the words, so much that he flinched a little and considered his next words with care.

“I am in no doubt of her courage, Madam, I assure you. She has a deal too much for her own good,” he added with a wry smile. “I think we all need to be cared for, however, to know that there is someone at our backs, no matter what. I would be there for Miss de Feria, if she would allow it. I would like to think I could rely on her in return.”

“And what would you expect from her, for your… protection?” There was a sneer to her voice and her implication was clear.

“I offer the young lady no insult,” Silas replied, his voice firm, a little irritated that Lucia hadn’t at least told the woman that he’d offered for her. “I have asked her to marry me.”

She didn’t look surprised, and he wondered if perhaps she had known after all and was just toying with him.

“You’re not the first,” she replied, her tone expressionless.

The jealousy that had burned in his chest when Lucia had mentioned the man who had let her down before returned to scald his heart.

“I knew there was someone, someone who’d hurt her.”

Dharani nodded but said nothing as a maid appeared with a tea tray. Once the young woman had set the tray down, Dharani waved her away with an impatient gesture.

“Would you mind?” she asked, gesturing to the tea things with a mischievous smile. “My wrists aren’t as strong as they once were.”

Silas bit back a smile, knowing damn well she could have asked the maid to pour and was enjoying the fact she had a viscount waiting on her.

“You know of Anna-Marie de Feria?” she asked him as he lifted the teapot.

“Her mother,” Silas replied with a nod. “Yes, I know of her.”

“A beautiful but unreliable creature,” Dharani said with a sigh. “Lucia’s father left her money to keep Lucia in comfort, but the feckless woman ran through it in no time at all. She went off with some man, leaving us behind to cope as best we could, and I found a position with a family in Norfolk. They were good people, a respectable family, and they agreed to allow Lucia to be educated alongside their own children. Two girls, and a boy.”

Silas lifted the sugar pot with an enquiring gesture, a bad feeling rising in his chest as Dharani told her tale. She shook her head and reached for the cup he offered her.

“It’s an old enough story, of course, and you’ve seen how beautiful she is. The children grew up together, happy and as playful as puppies. I warned her,” she said, giving a heavy sigh. “But she was less cautious with her heart back then. The boy became a young man and developed a passion for Lucia. He promised her they would marry.”

She nodded, her eyes full of sadness, staring into a far-off place in her memories. “He promised her he’d defy his parents if they objected, and that nothing would keep them apart.”

Silas sat back, his heart aching for the romantic girl she must have been, even as jealousy raged at the fool who had deserted her and given her such a mistrust of men.

“What happened?”

Dharani shrugged and took a sip of her tea. “There was no great battle of wills. His parents explained to him the truth of Lucia’s birth, that she is illegitimate and could never make him a suitable wife, and he couldn’t drop her fast enough. He went away to university, and Lucia never saw him again.”

Silas frowned. Anna-Marie de Feria was a notorious figure. Her lovers had included some of the most powerful men in the country, and she’d never married. Even some country bumpkin fool of a boy must have known Lucia was illegitimate from the outset.