Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Silas was used to Lewis making a nuisance of himself regularly.
In fact, one could say he was accustomed to it. It had long since become quite clear that the other man would never show him any form of respect, and he usually did not care about their conversations because, most of the time, he could deal with it swiftly.
But he was not prepared to do this today, much less at the very moment he was arguing with Agnes over an issue that had the same general subject. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could tolerate Lewis’s insolence.
He knew it had long since become a habit to want the things Silas had, his never-ending greed nudging him to try to make claims over the things he felt would give him an advantage, and it did not come as a surprise that he wanted to buy Scar.
The issue lay in the fact that he was being his usual self in front of Agnes – who already had several bones to pick with Silas, and he would not be surprised if she took his side. He even almost expected her to do just that.
However, she seemed intent on watching, for once not making things difficult for him, and he was not sure if he appreciated her silence or was weary of it, lest she turn around the next moment to attack him in revenge.
“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am privileged and spoiled. Stating that will not distract from the fact that you still will not have your way. I am not going to sell my horse. So, go home, Hamilton.”
“Tch,” Lewis hissed, clearly irritated that his ploy to push Silas wasn’t working. “Perhaps you should have admitted as much when grandfather was alive. Then he wouldn’t have left me as little as he did because I am clearly the better between the both of us.”
“According to whom?” Silas sighed, feeling annoyed with himself for letting this discussion go on for as long as he did.
“Who exactly nominated you as the better between us? Just stating that from your lips has as much credibility as the likeliness of me becoming the King anytime in the future. You’re being quite ridiculous, and it is exhausting to deal with.
Kindly leave while I’m still being patient with you. ”
“Well –” Lewis began, faltering as his gaze darted to the side, and he noticed for the first time since they had started talking that a woman was standing close by. “Oh. Good day, Miss.”
The condescending look on his face turned lecherous, and Silas felt his veins fill with ice. Agnes’ eyes widened as the attention shifted to her, and she stepped back uncertainly.
“Oh, don’t be scared. I’m not – ignore the words I exchanged with this fellow. We’ve known each other for ages, so this sort of banter is quite a norm for us both. I’m Lewis Stanton, the Marquess of Hamilton. And who might you be, lovely?”
Silas nearly snorted at the idea that Agnes would be scared of him, as he had learned not too long ago just how daring she could be. Lewis was approaching her, and before Silas could consider his next course of action carefully, his arm darted out between them, and he said,
“No, Hamilton. Do not come closer. I have told you several times already there is nothing for you here.”
Lewis leveled him with an angry stare and lifted his chin defiantly.
“I am not concerned with you anymore but with this wonderful maiden. Surely you would not deprive such a precious thing of the honor of being acquainted with a real man? Because if she works for you, she must be disappointed by your awful personality.”
The Duke stepped forward, pushing at the Marquess’ shoulder, making the man take an involuntary step back.
“Watch your tongue, Hamilton. You will treat her with respect because she is not my servant but my betrothed. You may have been given leeway in the past to come here and run your mouth however you liked, but I will not stand for the display of your rakish ways around the future Duchess of Forestwood. I will not tell you again to leave my property.”
A look of irritation crossed Lewis’ face, and he stepped further back, glancing between them.
“As always, you sound so sure of yourself, Silas. But keep in mind that the situation can always change. She is not your wife yet, and engagements can always break – as easily as they have been arranged.” He glared at Silas.
“And if she has the misfortune of being betrothed to you, it is only a matter of time before her dissatisfaction with you causes her to leave your side.”
He shifted his attention to Agnes and smiled brightly.
“You are welcome to celebrate my victory with me after the competition, my lady. Your future husband might have a good horse, but because of his duties as a Duke, he won't be able to train the beast enough to ensure he will win.”
Silas expected Agnes to maintain the silence she had kept from the beginning of this unnecessary interaction and was greatly surprised when she pressed against him, wrapping an arm around his and speaking in a sweet tone,
“That will be unnecessary, my lord, because we are the ones who will be crowned as the victors of the competition.”
Then her other hand ran up his back, bracing against his neck and forcing him to lower his head. His complaint left his mind when her lips brushed against his cheek, and he was left staring at her in shock as she smiled up at him, later turning her triumphant look to Lewis.
The Marquess winced and lowered his gaze quickly.
“Well, I suppose we shall just have to wait and see what the outcome will be. Good day.” he hastily spoke and turned around, looking over his shoulder to add. “Good luck to you, cousin.”
He quickly took his leave, looking even more defeated with each step, and Silas sighed, pulling away from Agnes to reach for Scar’s reins.
“Come. Let me put you in your stall,” he murmured and led his horse into the stable.
Agnes watched him leave as her mind spun in confusion at the last word the Marquess had said to the Duke.
Cousin? They were cousins?
She had not expected them to be related in any way due to the stiff interaction and generally offensive things Lord Hamilton had said to Silas. Perhaps their relationship was why Silas had barely reacted to any of the disrespect, but that did not explain the animosity between them.
Numerous times during their conversation, Agnes heard the strong dislike – closer to hatred than it was not – in Lord Hamilton’s voice, which meant that he clearly harbored strong negative feelings for the Duke.
And she could not help but wonder what had spurred such amongst relatives that were supposed to be close.
Silas left the stable and found her still standing there and sighed in irritation.
“Why are you still here? I have nothing more to say to you,” he stated coldly in dismissal.
He turned around to head into the mansion, and Agnes found herself following after him quickly, wanting answers to the thousands of questions running through her mind.
“Could we just – can we talk?” she hurriedly asked.
She received no response but kept trailing after him regardless, noticing how members of the staff scurried out of his way after a singular look at his face.
She could tell just from the tense lines on his shoulders that he was upset, a stark difference from the level-headed air he had kept when he spoke to his cousin.
Then, his responses had been calm and almost unbothered, but now he looked as though his entire line of predecessors had been insulted.
Could it… could it be because of me? Because the Marquess made advances towards me?
She quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of her head.
They barely knew each other, and nearly every conversation between them had been an argument.
He did not care enough about her to be angry that another man had attempted to proposition her.
Perhaps he had just been a little irritated that someone else had tried to stake a claim on his betrothed – the way men generally liked to be possessive over the things they had.
Still, she could not repress the hope that perhaps he had or maybe someday might want to hold onto her, not just for the gains their marriage would bring to him but for deeper reasons.
Silas walked into his study, and she followed closely, settling into a settee close to his desk, choosing to give him the grace of some distance while he situated himself behind his desk.
“Silas… is he really your cousin? Are you both related? Honestly?”
He did not respond, did not even glance in her direction, his hands working to sort out some papers stacked atop his desk. Agnes did not relent.
“I merely think it is strange for you both to have such a distaste for each other when you are related by blood. And I have complete faith in Scar – I believe he can undoubtedly win the competition. And since you’re clearly really busy with your other obligations, I can train him for you.”
Still, he ignored her, and she pressed on.
“I’m very well-versed and knowledgeable about horses, and I’ve always wanted to participate in competitions. I am very certain I can lead us to victory if you let me train him –”
“Will you be quiet? I am trying to work, and your incessant chattering is quite bothersome, so either leave or sit there silently.”
Agnes found herself pouting momentarily, opening her mouth to suggest that she would happily leave if he were to simply answer her questions first, but stopping when someone knocked at the door.
“What?” Silas snapped.
The door opened, and the butler poked his head through the space.
“I-I brought you tea, Your Grace.”
Silas grunted in acknowledgment, and Lukas came in with a tray, setting it on the table in front of Agnes, greeting her softly.
“My lady, good afternoon.”
“Lukas!” she clapped her hands excitedly. “Perhaps you can answer my questions. Is the Duke really related to the Marquess of Hamilton?”
Lukas glanced at Silas, and a light of recognition dawned across his face.
“Ah, I see you’ve met Lord Hamilton. Yes, they are indeed related. Lord Hamilton is the grandson of the old Duke’s sister, and thus, he is next in line for the dukedom.”
“Oh,” Agnes sat back, accepting the cup of tea Lukas set in front of her with a smile of gratitude. “So… why do they hate each other so much?”
Lukas left her side briefly to set a cup of tea on the Duke’s desk and returned saying,
“Well, after the old Duke passed, it was discovered that he had left nothing in his will to Lord Hamilton, and it caused him to become antagonistic, and now, he views His Grace as his enemy. He has attempted to ruin his businesses countless times but has never been successful, as his plans are usually… subpar.” Lukas sighed in disappointment.
“He also participates in the horse competitions every year for the last three years but always comes in second place to the Duke – which only seemed to fuel his anger and hatred.”
“I’m going to let him win this year. Perhaps if he has what he’s wanted for some time now, he will finally shut up,” Silas grumbled, not taking his eyes off his document as he scribbled down on a piece of paper.
Lukas looked affronted by the Duke’s statement, turning to him in surprise.
“Your Grace, you cannot do that! Your grandfather would never have approved of the idea of throwing a match – especially not when it came to horse riding, which he loved dearly.”
Silas finally lifted his head, his tone clear and cold as he said,
“I did not ask for your opinion, Lukas. Leave.”
The butler scrambled to bow and exited the room, leaving Agnes to her thoughts.
Clearly, this was far deeper than an extreme competitiveness between two men, and perhaps she could present a solution that favored her and the Duke.
With her mind made up, she turned to him, holding his gaze firmly as she said clearly.
“I’ll do it. I’ll train Scar and help you win the competition.”