Chapter 6 #2
There! Hannah rose from her seat and scampered to the window. There really was someone outside.
“Miss Williaaaaams.” The voice was louder this time. She recognized that rich timbre and gruff tone. Hannah wasn’t one to pay much mind to what a man’s voice sounded like, but in her present circumstances she had to own that it was the most attractive sound she’d ever heard.
“I’m here!” she called back, throwing the curtains to one side so that everyone could see her knight in shining armor. She hadn’t imagined him!
Mr. Corbyn was actually wearing a tweed morning coat, not armor, but his golden hair shone brightly in the sun, which was nearly as good.
He looked heroic, at any rate. Particularly when Molly went outside a moment later to try to shoo him away with a parasol and Mr. Corbyn stood his ground in the face of this siege.
Despite the distraction, he seemed to spot Hannah’s face in the window. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “I’m in love with you.” After a pause, he added, “Undyingly.”
Oh my.
Hannah had never received a declaration of love before. She’d expected it to sound a little more passionate, even if it was an act. But Mr. Corbyn had spoken in the sort of tone one might have used to say, “I’m going to the dentist to deal with this persistent toothache.”
Still, he’d arrived in the nick of time and he’d remembered her name. Hannah couldn’t afford to be choosy.
“What on earth…!” Mama reached her side, her face turning scarlet as she recognized the man she’d beaten with her reticule the other night. “Him.”
She grabbed the latch to the window and slammed it shut so quickly that Hannah worried that they might damage Eli and Jane’s house. Then she tugged the curtains back into place with a rough jerk.
“Careful,” Hannah admonished. “That’s French lace.”
Her mother turned to their guests. “Sir Richard, I can explain.”
But it was too late. Mama’s baronet and his daughter had already risen from their chairs to get a good look at the man professing his love on the front lawn.
Judging by their thunderous expressions, they were none too impressed.
Sir Richard carried himself with great restraint as he spoke.
“I believe this call was a mistake, Mrs. Williams. We shall bid you good day.”
“That man is nobody,” Mama said quickly, rushing after her guests as they made toward the door. “I beg you to pay him no mind.”
“He’s my dearest love,” Hannah called after them, a giggle of triumph bubbling up from her lungs. “We shall never break faith, though the world conspires to keep us apart!”
She needn’t have bothered with this last part. Sir Richard and his daughter were already gone, hurrying from the room and down the approach to the house with a disdainful glance toward Mr. Corbyn, who was still dodging the maid’s assault.
It worked! I’m safe!
There was no chance that Sir Richard would be back after this. He was brave enough to take on one headstrong girl, it seemed, but not her strapping young lover. And hadn’t Mama said this was her last chance for a match?
Oh dear. Now Mama had gone outside to join in the fray.
Hannah craned to see them through the window.
Mr. Corbyn had managed to escape the maid and put the hedges between himself and his pursuers, but with a second person in the mix he wouldn’t be able to evade them much longer.
I’d better go out and make sure they don’t hurt him.
It would be a poor reward to send the man home with a bloodied nose in exchange for saving her life.
* * *
What the hell am I doing here?
Silas had asked himself this question a hundred times on the journey over to Mayfair, but it took on a new urgency as Mrs. Williams descended the front steps and stormed toward him. At least he didn’t see a brick-stuffed reticule in her hands this time.
“What is the meaning of this?” the woman bellowed, red-faced. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Scared off a pair of callers, from the looks of things. The old man and the young lady who’d hurried past him with matching expressions of horror must have been the reason for Miss Williams’s invitation, though Silas didn’t care to guess why their presence should require his intervention.
“Er… Sorry to intrude,” he tried. “I just came to speak to Miss Williams.”
What was he supposed to do now? She hadn’t provided him with a script for this part.
“You won’t so much as look at Hannah again if I have anything to say about it!” Mrs. Williams made a lunge at him, but Silas stepped backwards and her elbow collided with the hedges in a cacophony of snapping branches.
“Mr. Corbyn!” Miss Williams chose that moment to emerge from the house and rush down the steps. “You came.”
She didn’t look like she was in any danger. A brilliant smile lit up her face as she approached, her dark eyes sparkling with joy. Her cheeks were pink with exertion as she hurried toward him.
Silas wasn’t sure when he’d last met anyone so happy to see him.
It was strangely gratifying after the abysmal failure of his morning, until a sudden “Aha!” and a vise grip on his forearm reminded him that he was still supposed to be dodging her mother and their maid.
The pair had moved in to flank him from both sides while he’d been distracted.
“Don’t hurt him!” Miss Williams cried, immediately stricken by his capture.
How embarrassing.
This had to be the most humiliating way he could have chosen to earn a bit of coin, but could he truly afford to complain?
After his spectacular failure to find work at the docks this morning, he was forced to acknowledge the truth.
There was no other way to come up with the money he needed for Marian and James’s brewery.
“Go back inside, Hannah,” her mother snapped. “I’ll deal with this one.”
Her tone heavily implied that Silas might soon find himself stuffed in a sack and thrown into the Thames, though he wasn’t convinced these women could manage the job without reinforcements.
That maid looked a bit frail. He could probably break free of their grasp with one swift twist, but he didn’t want to hurt either of them.
“Your brother isn’t at home, is he?” Silas asked Miss Williams, in what he hoped was a fearless tone.
“No. Why?”
At least there was one piece of good news. Though Silas might still have to search for new lodgings before Williams came back and learned of all this. Maybe he should take Marian and James up on their offer to stay with them.
“Stop talking to him!” Mrs. Williams scolded her daughter. “You’ve already spoiled your chance at a match with Sir Richard. I won’t have you encouraging this ruffian.”
“I can hear you, ma’am,” Silas pointed out.
It was bad enough that they insisted on hauling him up like a sack of coal.
Did they need to speak about him as if he weren’t there as well?
And what was this about a match, anyway?
“You can’t mean to tell me you were really going to marry your daughter to that old codger. ”
The man who’d tottered down the walk was sixty if he was a day. What business did he have creeping around Miss Williams?
“Mind your tongue,” her mother returned. “Sir Richard has more dignity in one finger than you have in your entire body.”
This was difficult to argue with, given his present circumstances.
“You’ve no right to interfere with Hannah’s prospects,” Mrs. Williams continued. “If you truly cared for her, you’d have the decency to stand aside and let her find a man of her own class. Surely you must see that you could never hope to marry her.”
Everyone paused to look at Silas here, as if awaiting his confirmation.
Who said anything about marriage? He wanted to retort. I only met the girl two days ago.
They shouldn’t even need to hear him say it. It was obvious he couldn’t match a gently bred lady like Miss Williams, who’d been raised with every refinement he lacked.
But Miss Williams was staring at Silas with a particular urgency, her dark eyes pleading. Clearly, she’d said something to make her mother believe that he had grander intentions than a stolen kiss at her brother’s club. That was why she’d needed him to show up and profess his love.
Which he’d done. That was the real problem here: He kept agreeing to things he should have sense enough to steer clear of.
That had always been his problem.
Miss Williams must have grown tired of waiting on him, for she answered matter-of-factly, “We’ve made a vow in our hearts, even if you won’t let us make one in a church. We’ll never marry anyone else, no matter how long you keep us apart.”
Oh. So that was her game, was it? He was her excuse to remain a spinster, even if they never saw each other again.
“Yes,” he agreed. He’d already come this far. He didn’t care to turn back without earning his pay, particularly when he had little hope of finding it elsewhere. “I’ll, er, wait for you forever.”
Miss Williams narrowed her eyes. Too much? It was no worse than all the rubbish she’d said. Besides, he’d never claimed to be an actor.
Her mother was equally unimpressed, judging from her expression.
“Is it money you’re after?” Was the woman clairvoyant? Mrs. Williams abandoned her grip on Silas’s forearm, confident that she’d found a better means to be rid of him. “I’ll give you two pounds never to darken our door again.”
“I’m not for sale,” he replied, insulted.
Never mind that he was only here because Miss Williams had already bought him. That was different. He couldn’t have explained exactly how, but it was. She didn’t look at him with scorn, for a start.
“Then what do you want?” The gray-haired woman regarded him with a piercing stare.
My old life back. The answer sprang to his mind unbidden. But that wasn’t something anyone could give him. Instead, Silas replied, “I…just want Miss Williams to be happy.”
It wasn’t a response he’d fully considered before speaking. It sounded far too sentimental. Not like him at all. But in a way, it was true.
If Miss Williams found what she was looking for, maybe she would stop asking him for help. More than that, maybe he would feel like he’d done something useful for once.
He might not be able to undo his discharge from the navy or find himself a new trade, but he could fix this young lady’s problems before he went on his way.
“What’s her favorite color?” Mrs. Williams snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What?” What has that to do with anything?
“Her favorite food? What sort of music does she like to dance to?”
Silas didn’t even have time to consider one question before Mrs. Williams volleyed a new one at him. He didn’t have the faintest idea what to say, but they were all staring, even the maid. Miss Williams tried to signal him with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Was he supposed to know what that meant?
Maybe he could reason this out.
“Um…pink?” Women liked bright, flowery colors, didn’t they? Miss Williams was frowning at his reply, but it was too late to stop now. “Cake? And…uh…” What did rich people even dance to these days? Dancing lessons hadn’t been part of his education. “The waltz.”
That was definitely the name of a dance that people did.
“Wrong on all three!” Mrs. Williams crowed in triumph. Damn it. He should have known better than to try. “You see? You don’t know the first thing about my daughter. You can’t possibly love her. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I know when I’m being hoodwinked. Admit it.”
“It’s not a trick!” Miss Williams rushed to his defense. “I do love pink. And cake. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think, Mama. My tastes have changed since I was a little girl.”
“And waltzing?” Her mother raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You hate dancing. I hear all about it anytime I try to take you anywhere.”
“That one was a trick question! You didn’t give Mr. Corbyn a real chance!”
“Enough.” Mrs. Williams had raised her voice in her frustration, prompting more than one neighbor to peer out their windows at the spectacle.
“You really expect me to believe that you’re in love with this”—she wrinkled her nose in the direction of Silas, seeming to search for an alternative to the word gentleman before she settled on—“individual?”
“Yes,” Miss Williams replied immediately. Silas was spared the need to feign agreement, as no one had asked him.
“And he’s the reason you won’t consider any other suitor?”
“Yes. Exactly,” she said again. “I’m simply too much in love to give my heart to another man.”
“I suppose this means you won’t want to return to Devon.” A self-satisfied smile melted the stern line of Mrs. Williams’s mouth. “Seeing as how your beloved is here in town.”
“Oh. Er—” Her daughter couldn’t quite conceal her dismay at this turn.
After a brief struggle, she squared her shoulders and bravely proclaimed, “Of course. Although I would have thought you would want to keep us apart, Mama. If you’re letting me stay in London, does this mean you’ll accept Mr. Corbyn as a suitor? ”
Did they spend every day trying to outwit each other this way? It looked exhausting.
And Miss Williams might have asked him before she made plans to take this ruse any further. Just how long was he supposed to play along?
Thankfully, her mother didn’t call this bluff. “No! He’s entirely unsuitable and you know it.”
“Then it seems we’re at an impasse. You can bring as many men as you like to call; none of them could make me forget Mr. Corbyn.”
“Fine.” Mrs. Williams threw her hands in the air, finally at her wit’s end.
“I give up. You don’t want to meet any of the gentlemen I worked so hard to find you?
Don’t meet them. You can pine away in your ivory tower.
At least it will spare me the embarrassment of having to deal with your behavior at our morning calls. ”
A flash of relief crossed Miss Williams’s face, though she concealed it quickly. It seemed she’d won.
Does that mean I’ve finished my part?
“I’ll never forget you.” She turned to Silas, dabbing at her eyes, which were perfectly dry. Yes, this act was reaching its logical conclusion. “I’ll write to you every day.”
“Uh, I’ll write you too,” Silas offered. It seemed the sort of thing he should say, though he hoped he wouldn’t actually have to fulfill the promise.
“And I’ll burn the letters,” Mrs. Williams muttered angrily.