Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Silas Klane stared up at the Willington estate, his keen eyes taking in all the features of it.
It seemed well enough from the frontage, but there was an air of dilapidation about the place.
It seemed that while Adley had been keeping up appearances in town, he had certainly let them slip at home.
As he entered the once-great stately home, he noticed that someone had made a great effort to make it seem taken care of inside: fresh flowers stood in vases, and the light from the parlor was warm with the glow of a healthy fire.
“In here, sir.”
He was shown into the parlor. The Marquess was standing by the fire, looking worse than he had done the night before. Clearly, the man could not stand his liquor.
“Marquess.”
Silas took a seat in a tall, leather-backed chair in the warmth of the fire’s blaze.
“Mr Klane.”
Adley didn’t sit, but simply stared into the fire, taking large gulps from a glass of port.
Silas shifted, his irritation mounting. He was doing this old fool a tremendous favor by accepting his daughter; the least he could do was appear grateful and perhaps offer him a drink!
He knew there was every chance his daughter would not be a fraction as beautiful as the portrait had suggested, but Adley had been prepared to give him what he really wanted: his title.
Silas would put up with a poor-favored girl for that.
“Ah,” Adley stirred into life as footsteps were heard outside the parlor. “My daughter.”
Silas rose and turned, groaning inwardly at the farce he might have to play of actually pretending to desire this woman.
“Anna, this is your intended, Mr Silas Klane.”
Silas stared. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.
Her golden hair was as fair as angel feathers, her skin as soft and smooth as a pearl.
Her form was exquisite, the simple white gown she had chosen only enhancing her natural loveliness.
Even the frown between her soft, blonde eyebrows and the look of wariness in her leafy green eyes couldn’t detract from her innocent aura.
Silas couldn’t understand how such a beauty as she had not been snatched up in marriage by a young duke or marquess years ago.
He could only assume her father had blocked her prospects, and kept her away from society as much as possible, knowing all along that his most valuable asset was his attractive daughter.
Silas felt a twist of dislike for a man who would put his finances before his child’s happiness.
“Your servant, my lady.” Silas recovered himself and bowed slightly.
“Mr Klane.” She inclined her blonde head deferentially, then looked between him and her father, her eyes passing over the small tables beside them.
“You are in need of refreshment, gentlemen. Hanson.” She nodded authoritatively to the old servant behind her, and he disappeared. “I can offer you some Madeira, Mr Klane, or perhaps a little sherry? Brandy? I am sorry to say we have no port.”
She threw a tense look at her father, who glugged the last of the port sullenly. Silas frowned. The glance Anna gave her father was not the look of an adoring daughter but a wary, perhaps even nervous one.
“Brandy.”
“Father, for you?”
“Nothing.” The Marquess drained his glass and set it on the mantelpiece. “I shall leave you in my daughter’s capable care, Mr Klane.”
Silas was surprised at Adley’s attitude.
Leaving the two of them alone was highly irregular, but he supposed Adley was keen to show Silas what he meant by completely giving over his daughter to him.
He glanced at Anna. The girl didn’t seem surprised by her father’s decision to leave her and Silas noticed how she averted her gaze from her father’s as he left the room.
He frowned upon seeing a slight purple bruise on her upper arm, partially hidden under her sleeves.
If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that it was the unmistakable mark of a man’s hand.
“Mr Klane.” He took the glass of brandy offered by a servant. “Please, be seated.”
“After you, Lady Anna.”
She inclined her head elegantly and took the chair opposite him.
The servant returned with a plate of small delicacies, fine cheese and crackers, and he watched as Anna thanked him graciously and murmured quiet instructions.
Clearly, Adley’s daughter was the one keeping this whole shabby family together.
She was not only beautiful, it seemed, she was also capable.
“You understand the terms of our engagement?”
She looked up at him slowly, a frank, assessing gaze that he found quite intriguing.
“Not entirely. Father was… not explicit.” Her voice was bitter and her gaze drifted into the flames. “But the bare essentials are simple enough, are they not? Me and my title - for his debt.”
“You don’t seem happy to be engaged.”
“Should I be?” Her green eyes were piercingly lovely. “I am merely a pawn in a larger game, am I not?”
“My word, you do offer your opinion readily for a woman in your position, do you not?”
She bristled at his words. “What position is that?”
“Alone. With a man. Who knows what a man might do with such a free-thinking young woman?”
Silas sipped his sherry, enjoying the sweet taste and her obvious discomfort. She looked lovely when she blushed. He liked her astute, practical manner, too. He wondered how far he could push it.
“If you intend to marry me, you could hardly be a threat to me.”
Her words were light, but her eyes wary. He didn’t doubt she had heard the rumors about him, all the dark and twisted tales. He decided to test her.
“Is that so?”
Silas smiled again, leaning closer, deliberately raising a hand to loosen his cravat.
He saw the way she stiffened, forcing herself not to recoil.
She didn’t move. These feminine signs of strength were strangely endearing to him.
Careful, a dark voice at the back of his mind hissed, you know what happens to delicate flowers in your grasp - they break.
“You are right to be afraid.” He sat back, chuckling. “No wonder you are so enraged at your father.”
“I am not enraged!”
Despite her caution of him, he saw her green eyes light with fire. He liked it.
“You are. You see yourself as the lamb sacrificed on the altar of his folly, do you not?” His eyes drifted over her pure, enticing flesh.
He enjoyed watching an indignant blush creep up her neck.
He allowed himself to lean even closer, whispering words in a husky voice.
“The virgin being offered to the devil.”
Her green eyes widened. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself.
He liked to scare her, to play the role of the villain.
It was much easier than dwelling on the way her scent was like sweet, heady perfume to him, or how he longed to feel her warm breath on his cheek.
No, it was better this way. It was better that she was afraid. Then, she would not be hurt.
“Well, if that is the case, do tell me, what does the devil offer the virgin in return?”
It was a daring question from an innocent girl, yet she had spoken the words with her head raised, her glassy eyes fixed on his. She was still afraid, he could see it in how her creamy bosom rose and fell, but she was also defiant. She would be much more interesting to him than he might have hoped.