Chapter 8 #2
Silas took another bite of his supper, mainly to avoid the need to reply.
Truth be told, he’d begun to share James’s worries. Marian did too, though she was too good to say it directly. He could tell from the look in her eye whenever the subject came up. She’d harbored her doubts about the plan from the start, once Silas had explained what he’d done.
He’d expected Miss Williams to turn up on their doorstep any day, face flushed and nervous to intrude, just as she had been that first time. But in the weeks that followed his dramatic declaration on her lawn, Silas had received no word from her.
Maybe she doesn’t know where I’m staying.
He’d sent a note to her house when he’d moved lodgings, but her mother was almost certain to destroy it.
And though he’d left instructions to the other residents to pass his new address along if any visitors came looking for him, he didn’t think Miss Williams would have the nerve to ask them if she knocked at his door and someone else answered.
Nor did he like to imagine her wandering around his previous neighborhood, where anything might happen to her. He didn’t trust that coachman of hers. What sort of man would bring a gently bred lady across the water for a bit of coin, anyway? It was reckless.
“Maybe we should see someone at the bank about getting a loan,” Marian suggested hesitantly. “Even if Miss Williams pays you soon, it still won’t be enough.”
“No one will give us that kind of money without collateral.” A disgraced, out-of-work midshipman, a woman, and an eighteen-year-old cooper. They weren’t an impressive lot.
“Then we’re back to searching for another investor.”
“We must know someone.” James groaned. “Think.”
“You seemed to be getting friendly with the manager from Courage and Donaldson last week,” Marian said to Silas. “Maybe he has some funds. Do you think he might prefer being the part owner of a small operation to being the manager of a large one?”
A sharp rap on the door interrupted them.
“I’ll get it,” Silas offered. There was always the small possibility that it would be Miss Williams, though he’d gotten his hopes up enough times by now that he didn’t truly believe it anymore.
Marian and James are right. She isn’t coming.
He’d told himself that Miss Williams wasn’t the sort to cheat him, with how worried she’d been about taking ten shillings for her coachman from the money for their kiss.
But if she intended to come, she would have done it by now.
She’d likely forgotten about him the minute he’d served his purpose.
Why should she remember? He was nothing to her.
Silas was so lost in thought that it took him a moment to realize that he’d opened the door and was standing face-to-face with a well-dressed gentleman.
It was Williams.
Silas tensed. He’d assumed that he was safe when no one had shown up to seek revenge after his little show on their front lawn, but he might have been too hasty.
Williams cleared his throat, looking just as awkward as he had the last time.
“How did you find my new address?”
“My mother intercepted your note to my sister.”
“Right.” That was much as he’d expected. “Should I…invite you in?” Silas studied his former friend for some sign of his intention.
“Please.” Williams sounded slightly weary. As Silas stood aside, he stepped into the foyer. “This is a bit…odd. But apparently my mother has decided—” He broke off suddenly, his face darkening.
Silas turned to see what had caught his attention, to find Marian leaning her towheaded mop through the adjacent doorway, her eyes barely visible above the frame.
“Would you please give us a moment?”
“I’m sorry. I only wanted to see who it was.” And then, in a stage whisper, she added, “You should ask him.” With a pointed look to Williams’s fine morning coat and the top hat he still held in his hands, she disappeared from sight.
“Ask me what?” Williams said coldly. It was evident that he’d drawn his own conclusions from what he’d just witnessed. No doubt he would go straight back to inform his family that he’d caught Silas red-handed with another woman.
Silas shouldn’t care what any of them thought. His reputation was in tatters anyway; what did it matter if Miss Williams believed that he had a lover tucked away in town?
But he found himself making explanations, despite every intention not to. “That was my cousin, Miss Marian Brigham. She and my brother came to town, and I’ve been staying with them. And never mind what she wants me to ask you. It’s only…sightseeing ideas.”
Not the most convincing fib, but he could hardly confess the truth. He would sooner die than ask Williams for charity a second time.
“Oh. Well.” This news seemed to calm his guest, though he still didn’t look entirely at ease. He fussed with the brim of his hat for a moment, cleared his throat, then abruptly produced an envelope from his breast pocket.
Silas took it automatically, turning the fine white paper over in his hands without opening it.
“It’s an invitation to supper,” Williams explained. “My mother would like you to come by our house on Tuesday evening.”
“She would?” Silas wasn’t able to keep the skepticism from his tone. “I didn’t think I was in her good graces.”
What the hell can this be about?
“I suppose she’s had a change of heart.” Williams didn’t sound particularly convinced either.
“And what does Miss Williams have to say about it?”
Williams winced, as if it were a great trial to answer this. “She asked me to tell you that her feelings for you remain unchanged, and that she looks forward to renewing your connection.” His face transformed into a swift scowl at the end. “Which I trust will not include any more theatrics.”
Silas stared at the crisp, white envelope in his hands.
Her feelings remain unchanged. Renewing our connection. Did that mean that she was prepared to pay him again if he performed on cue?
And if the going rate was sixty pounds for a kiss and double that for a declaration of love, might he not earn another hundred before the week was done?
Fighting not to betray any sign of his excitement, Silas opened the envelope and stared at the neat, ladylike cursive on the invitation inside.
It was full of all the sugary turns of phrase he’d been taught to employ to sound like a gentleman. Mr. and Mrs. Eleazar Williams kindly request the pleasure of Mr. Corbyn’s company at supper…etc., etc.
The stationery smelled like potpourri and trouble.
And opportunity.
“Do you really believe that your mother will allow me to court your sister?” It was the only conceivable reason why the woman should invite him to dine.
Silas didn’t know what had provoked her sudden change of heart, but it didn’t matter.
What mattered was his chance to start a new life for himself.
He might be able to get Marian and James everything they needed, and all for an evening or two of playacting.
“It would seem so.” Williams’s tone was guarded.
“And you?”
His former friend watched him from behind narrowed eyelids. “Do you really need me to say it? Whatever passed between you two, I expect you not to hurt her.”
Hurt her? Silas had never wronged a woman in his life, though it might not look that way from where Williams stood. He would think Silas was toying with his sister if he came to supper without any intention of proposing—that he was behaving like a cad.
But Miss Williams did want him to come, if he’d understood her message correctly. She needed him, even if no one else did.
No, not no one. Marian and James needed him too. And he could solve all their problems by the same act.
“Please tell your family I’d be delighted,” Silas said. He even managed a smile, if only because he was thinking of the difference this opportunity might make to his life. It felt almost like fate. At Williams’s warning look, he added, “No theatrics.”
He and Miss Williams had gone too far to worry about honesty now.