Page 19 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

Silas sat on the fountain’s edge and dropped his face into his hands. He really had no choice but to let Esther walk away. After their conversation the day of the picnic, before she’d fallen into the brook and sealed their fates together, Esther had exhibited a strength of opinion that surprised him. Though he’d been uneasy about sending her back to London, he had insisted upon it. Everyone must see her in town preparing her wedding trousseau. And he had stayed behind, readying the Keep for a new mistress, changing dozens of plans and reorganizing his schedule to accommodate a wedding.

He couldn’t be away from London for long. Not when rumors that Prussia was moving on Paris circulated. And Wellington was pushing further inland. Though Silas stood in the House of Lords most days, he had lent his mind and a considerable amount of his fortune to the Home Office. He did not take part in the clandestine movements of spies and government agents, but those in power made him privy to information in the hopes that Silas would lend his personal property to the men who risked their lives to get their jobs done. Men like Isaac.

Although their marriage was forced, Silas had not truly been averse to it. He’d always liked Esther. There were many times he coaxed smiles from her as a child, usually when she was told she could not take part in whatever game the boys played. Apparently, they remembered those times quite differently.

He rose from the fountain and considered going back into the house, but Esther would not be likely to greet him kindly. It seemed another night alone was his fate.

Perhaps Esther might speak with him more civilly after the wedding. He did not plan to leave for London immediately. There were things he needed to tell her, about his plans for the summer, about the house in Town. Elements of their marriage must also be discussed, especially since they barely knew each other.

Silas sought out his horse and made his way home. He attempted to turn his mind to other matters, such as combating political opponents who might use his hasty marriage against him. This occupied his thoughts for a time, until he was back on Inglewood land, and someone called out to him.

“My lord, the Earl of Inglewood, what are you doing on the road at this time of day?” the friendly voice called.

Silas pulled his horse around, surprised to find another rider coming nearer. “Jacob the Almost Vicar,” he greeted his friend in kind, allowing a smile to stretch across his face. “What are you doing here? I did not think to see you until June.”

“I heard you were getting married.” Jacob answered with an easy shrug. He wore the dark coat men of the cloth seemed to prefer, and a tall hat. “And my family will not mind me coming home before the living is ready.” His horse came abreast with Silas’s. “Congratulations on your marriage, Silas.”

Silas’s smile slipped away. “Do you think Isaac will mind? I assume you have heard at least some gossip about all this.”

“Hope wrote to me.” Jacob grinned.

“That woman brushes aside the strictures of society like they are nothing more than sand flies.” Silas shook his head. “Although I am grateful for it this time, if it brought you home to visit. I must go back to London. I would appreciate having you here, as well as the twins, to keep an eye on Esther.”

Jacob raised his blond eyebrows and he cocked his head to the side. “Keep an eye on her? Isn’t she returning to London with you? So you can show her off to all your snooty London set?”

Of their group of friends, Jacob came from the humblest of circumstances. Isaac was a baronet at a young age, Silas an earl, and the twins’ father was one of the wealthiest landowners in the county. Jacob’s family owned a small amount of property, and his parents had seven children. That left precious little in the way of funds for dowries or education.

Silas's family had the right to bestow the parish’s living on whomever they wished. The current vicar, a man nearing seventy, had at last decided to retire. Silas sponsored Jacob’s education with the hope that one day he could give the living to him.

“I cannot take Esther with me to London,” Silas said firmly. “Our marriage is too new, under unfavorable circumstances, and I will not have her subjected to cutting remarks or the curious gossips. Next Season things will be different.”

“Hm. Does Esther know you are protecting her?” Jacob asked.

Silas shook his head. “Not yet. But she will. I suppose Hope told you how Esther feels about the match?”

“Oh, she told me some of the tale. Do not worry too much. There are worse things than an arranged marriage. At least your bride likes you.”

If Esther had ever liked Silas, he doubted she felt amicable toward him at the moment. Time would help. There would be an adjustment period. Eventually he hoped their relationship would warm into at least a mutual fondness.

“It is not the worst arrangement,” Silas said aloud. “We know each other, our families; her brother is one of my oldest friends.”

“But what is Esther Fox to you, Silas?” When he asked the question, Jacob sounded less like himself and more like a vicar. “You are about to speak vows before God and your neighbors, promising fidelity and protection to a woman you barely know. Are you thinking of what comes next? Your whole life as it stretches before you will be connected to hers.”

Years ago, Silas might have laughed at his friend’s sudden seriousness. Jacob often went from lighthearted laughter to the most solemn sorts of contemplation. He had been the conscience of their little group. Silas led them from one game to another, Hope and Isaac spurred them into greater daring, Grace tempered them in kindness and safety, and Jacob kept them from acting in a manner that would shame their parents. To an extent.

The position of vicar suited him well.

“I intend to be a good husband, for as long as I live.” Silas let the words settle in his heart. Would it be enough? Was he enough? He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “Would you care to come share a drink with me?” he asked. “Perhaps we might even beg dinner of Cook.”

“The night before you marry, do you think I would leave you alone?” Jacob’s grin widened and the attitude of a pious vicar vanished. “Of course I will come. Married men haven’t time for their friends, so I need to take advantage of your last hours as a bachelor.”

A heaviness Silas had tried to ignore lifted from his shoulders. He had hoped to spend the evening with the Everlys, but Esther’s current regard for him had put aside that idea. He hated being alone in the Keep, though it was something he had tried hard to grow used to.

When his parents had died in a boating accident, his paternal grandmother had dedicated herself to the task of raising him; her austere manner never exactly eased the loneliness of his boyhood. Only his friends had done that for him. When she passed away, four years ago, Silas had no one to go home to anymore.

Perhaps that was the thing he looked forward to the most about his marriage to Esther. The houses he lived in would no longer stand empty. Even if Esther felt less than charitable toward him, she would still occupy the Keep when he returned to it next. That thought filled him with a contentment he had not felt in years.

Chapter Eight