Page 14 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

“You needn’t worry about Silas,” Grace said.

“I beg your pardon?” Esther blinked and looked down at the delicate woman. “I wasn’t—”

“You were. A little. He is too clever to let Miss Keyes into his life on a permanent basis.” Grace smiled gently. “She is a terrible gossip, for one thing. I imagine that is why he is walking with her, to see if rumor of what happened in London has come here yet.”

“Oh.” The knot inside her loosened a small measure.

“Excuse me. My mother appears to be looking for me.” Grace gave Esther’s arm a friendly touch before walking away, back to the table where the older set had taken up seats and plates. Esther watched her go, then looked about for some means of entertainment for herself. Most ages were represented by the guests, though children of school age were absent, including the Everlys’ school aged sons and daughters who boarded away from home. There were young ladies and gentlemen, the middling set of couples and parents, and a handful of silver-haired people sitting in the sunlight, draped in shawls.

She had decided to go watch the children play lawn games when Silas called to her from behind, his rich voice immediately recognizable.

“Miss Fox, there you are.”

She composed her features, raising her eyebrows and pressing her lips together in a smile as she turned. “Lord Inglewood. Miss Keyes.” She curtsied, meeting Miss Keyes’s gaze squarely. Silas bowed and the blonde beauty on his arm performed a perfectly executed dip.

“Miss Keyes said you were visiting,” Silas said, his expression completely neutral. “As soon as I learned of it, I knew I must seek you out. I wish for news of Sir Isaac.”

That was his plan? To pretend to hardly know her, and seek her out for the sake of her brother? Esther’s eyes darted from his to Miss Keyes, whose chin was lifted higher than necessary, and her arm snaked around Silas’s most possessively.

In an instant, Esther was reminded of the summer she turned twelve years old. Merriweather Keyes had been present at a small party, Isaac and Silas were eighteen and starting University soon. Merriweather had watched them, her eyes gleaming, and said to Esther, “A baronet would be a fine husband, I think. But an earl would be better.” At the time, Esther had tried to hide her disgust and forget the troublesome girl. What child of twelve schemed to marry an earl?

A child that, as a nineteen-year-old woman, still schemed.

“Miss Fox?” Silas asked, breaking through Esther’s distasteful thoughts. “Are you well?”

What had he asked before? Something about Isaac. “Perfectly, my lord. I was only thinking how best to tell you of my brother’s doings.” She sighed somewhat regretfully. “While there is much to tell, I cannot imagine a lady of Miss Keyes’s sensibilities would wish to hear it. War is a most unpleasant subject.” Esther smiled in what she hoped was a suitably compassionate manner. “Perhaps we may speak on it another time. But I will tell you Isaac is well, of course.”

Hopefully Silas was intelligent enough to realize she was asking for a private word with him. Of course, as he was one of the leading members of the Tory party, he ought to have some brains to decipher things with.

“People have spoken of wars our whole lives,” Miss Keyes said, batting her eyelashes. “I find the subject most dull, actually.”

Silas's eyes briefly flickered to Miss Keyes in a way that Esther thought betrayed his dismay, but his expression quickly settled back into one of neutrality. “I would not wish to bore you, Miss Keyes. Won’t you find a spot for us to enjoy luncheon? I will take Miss Fox on a turn through the orchard and rejoin you shortly.”

Esther bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing when Merriweather Keyes appeared surprised, then angry. She had been cast aside, at least for a time, and it was her own fault. She fixed Esther with a narrow-eyed gaze, then her chin resumed its lofty tilt.

“Of course, Lord Inglewood. A pleasure to see you again, Miss Fox.” Miss Keyes took herself away, her skirts rustling almost indignantly.

Watching the lady’s retreat, Esther murmured quietly, “Did you know she is laying a trap for you, my lord?”

“It could not be more obvious,” Silas said, his tone as low as hers. “Thankfully, she lacks the cunning she thinks she has in abundance. Miss Fox, will you join me for our walk?” Her first response was a frown. “We must keep up appearances,” he added.

“Yes. I suppose we must.” She took his offered arm and followed him into the trees. “Which appearances, exactly, are we attempting to maintain?” she asked after a few moments. The grasses beneath the apple trees were soft and new, the air around them filled with spring and life. It almost made her feel more charitable toward Silas, but she could not forget his slight of leaving her out of all the plans.

“That we are old acquaintances, due to the friendship between me and your brother,” Silas said. “Which is the truth, of course. There is nothing more to our relationship.”

“Of course not. There never has been.” Esther’s gaze fell to the ground, her voice echoing to her from the past. Can I come, Isaac? Please, Silas. I want to play, too.

Their answers were all variation on the same. You are too little. Babies belong in the nursery. Little girls cannot come.

“We have not spoken since that day at the Spartons’ home.” Silas’s deep voice was touched with more emotion. Perhaps regret. When she peered at him from the corner of her eye, Esther saw the same expression he had worn moments before. Did he hide everything he felt? He had not always been so difficult to read.

“No, my lord.” She averted her eyes to the grass, wondering how bold she might be with what she had to say. “Though I understand you visited and orchestrated my removal from London.”

“I thought it for the best. With you out of sight of Society, people might turn their minds to fresher scandals.” Silas paused in their walk, giving her reason to look up at him again, meeting his deep green eyes. Surprisingly, when she kept her focus there, Esther found she could interpret his feelings. Those eyes were earnest. Even kind. “I must thank you again, Miss Fox. Your quick action doubtlessly prevented my injury, perhaps my death. I owe you a great deal.”

Esther shivered and pulled the shawl tighter about herself. “Nonsense. I acted on impulse and would have done the same for a stranger. We are both whole, and that is all that matters.” She took a step, attempting to drag him forward with her, but Silas stayed still.

“I do not think you understand, Miss Fox. That selfless action almost damned you in the eyes of Society, marking you in a way that could harm your prospects and your family’s reputation.”