A blush stole into Esther’s cheeks and she watched as Silas’s ears went a little red. Often she had wondered what Isaac’s reaction to her marriage and the reasons behind it would be. At last she would see the truth of it, see his censure or approval.
“Ah, yes. That.” Silas met her gaze, his green eyes warm and bright. “I am sorry the letter did not make it to you. It explained everything.”
Isaac chuckled and took up Esther’s hand again, offering her a sideways grin before giving his attention to Silas. “I do not think you need explain much. Although I do wish you could have waited for me to return, to give her away properly, I must say that I am happy for you both. I never thought one of my closest friends would fall in love with my sister, but given how often she was about in our childhood, I suppose it is somewhat natural.”
All the warmth fled from the room and Esther pulled her hand out of her brother’s, tucking it in her lap with the other.
He thought Silas had wed her out of love.
No one contradicted him immediately. No one spoke at all. Slowly, Isaac’s smile melted away. He looked from one face to another, his brow wrinkling as he examined their faces.
Hope looked down at her hands. Grace kept her chin up, but the angle of her smile was more commiserating than anything. Jacob cleared his throat and stared at Silas.
And Silas. Silas’s ears were no longer red. His chin had a firm set to it. He darted a quick look at her.
Isaac’s posture stiffened next to her. “Silas? That is why you married her, isn’t it?”
“Not precisely,” Silas answered at last, his deep voice too loud for the silent room.
“This is uncomfortable,” Hope whispered to her sister, who immediately glared at her for breaking the silence.
“Most uncomfortable,” Isaac agreed, removing his glare from Silas to Esther. She immediately lowered her eyes to her lap. “Esther?”
Her hands clenched together so tightly, her knuckles had gone white. “He married me to save my reputation.”
Isaac’s hand appeared in her field of vision, reaching to cover hers. His hand was calloused and tan, strong, and it grasped her pale hands firmly. “What happened?” he asked.
“I compromised myself,” she said softly, the confession causing her heart to ache. “I acted like a fool, and Silas was kind enough to save me from what people would say.”
“Compromised? Esther, how—?”
She yanked her hands out of his and stood, all in one swift motion. “I did nothing wrong,” she said hastily, imploring Isaac with her expression.
“You did something,” Isaac argued, his jaw sticking out and his eyes blazing. “Something that forced my friend to marry you?”
“It is not as bad as it sounds,” Silas said, coming to his feet as well. Esther flinched, his words squeezing pain from her heart.
Not as bad as it sounds. Oh, yes it was. She had put him in a horrible position. And Isaac’s summation, that she had forced something from his friend, made those words sting.
Isaac rose, with some difficulty, only the one arm to push himself up. He gestured with his hand to Esther, then back to Silas. “Do explain.” The words were not gentle.
Her eyes darted around the room, looking to the other friends present. The day of the picnic, of her ridiculous behavior that led to falling in the brook, came to mind. Silas’s resolved expression when he announced their engagement to the crowd had smote her especially hard.
The last week of her life, her heart tender from mourning her brother, had also been filled with moments when she thought her marriage to Silas might be something more. He had acted with such gentleness toward her. Shown such affection.
But Silas did not love her. Though she had lost her heart to him, the earl attempted to make the best out of a situation he had never sought for himself.
Hope whispered something to Grace, bringing Esther’s attention back to the people in the room who might be as family to Isaac but were not to her. She would not have this conversation here. Not before them all, where they could pity Silas and commiserate with Isaac right in front of her.
“I would prefer to have this conversation another time,” she said aloud. “But you are welcome to discuss it amongst yourselves. I needn’t be present. Excuse me.” She fled the room, her steps hurried. She flung the door open and broke into a run, ignoring Silas calling her back.
The Silver Birch Society could do as they pleased without her. As they always had.
Chapter Twenty-four
Watching his wife’s retreat pulled at Silas’s heart. He started to follow her, but as he walked by Isaac’s chair the soldier grabbed him by the arm.
“Explain, Silas,” Isaac said firmly. “Now. Esther will be fine for the moment and I deserve to know what she has done.”
Silas had the strangest urge to shove his best friend aside, ignore the question, and go straight to his wife. Esther needed him. Isaac could wait. He opened his mouth to declare this very thing when Hope started talking.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Isaac! Stop being ridiculous. This is Silas, the stalwart Earl of Inglewood. He did absolutely nothing dishonorable. Your sister saved his life and all of London decided to wag their tongues about it.” Hope had risen to her feet, as had Grace. Jacob was looking from Silas to Isaac with a deep frown, but his stance suggested he was ready to step between them if need be.
Jacob had always been the peacemaker, and a time or two had prevented hotheaded arguments from becoming more serious.
“Esther saved his life? How?” Isaac asked, not loosening his grip on Silas’s arm.
It would probably be bad form to shove his brother-in-law and friend, an injured war veteran, out of his way. But Silas needed to get to Esther.
“She pushed me out of the way of a falling statue,” Silas said, biting out the words. “And then the gossip started. I attempted to curtail it, but there was another incident that prohibited any other course. Let Hope explain it to you. They all know the story. I need to see to my wife.”
Isaac met his glare again, his eyebrows shooting up. “You were forced to wed her? I am sorry it came to that. If I had been home—”
“You were not home,” Silas said, at last pulling out of Isaac’s grip. “You left your sister and all your responsibilities behind to go play at being a soldier. As noble as I once thought that decision, I have seen the other side of it. You left a hurt and lonely girl to grow into a woman while you were gone, handed the responsibility of her care over to people who could never love her as her own brother should have, and now I am her husband. I was fortunate enough to be here when she thought you dead, to offer my comfort and support, as poor as it was, while she mourned you deeply. Do not apologize to me. Apologize to her.”
He said no more, nor did he regret his words. Though Isaac’s service in the military was honorable and good, it had hurt his sister, and there was a balance that must somehow still be paid for that.
Silas marched from the room. He did not look back. Did not bother to see how the others took his words. Let them think what they wanted.
All that mattered was getting to Esther. The amount of emotional upheaval the woman had gone through in the last few hours, in the last several weeks, could possibly undo everything he adored about her. For her beloved brother to return and accuse her in such a way was abhorrent.
Where would Esther go? She had stayed out of her painting room. No other room in the house was particularly dear to her.
The fine weather may have beckoned to her.
Silas strode to the rear of the house, stopping once to ask a footman if the countess had passed by. When the servant confirmed the direction of Esther’s escape, Silas hurried on his way. He did not stop for hat or gloves. He doubted she had stopped either.
He went through the gardens, barely glancing about for her. Instead, he went straight for the beach. When he came to the hill, slight though it was, with the path leading down to the water, he saw her.
She
stood staring out at the North Sea, her arms wrapped about herself, unmoving. The waves lapped at the shore, dampening the hem of her gown where she stood. But she gave no notice to them, nor bothered moving out of the way.
When the wind picked up, whipping across the shore to fly in his face, Silas realized he had been admiring his wife from a distance rather than continuing toward her. Seeing her figure standing there, the whole sea before her, had affected him. She appeared so lonely, yet there was a strength to her stance he admired. She faced the sea as she faced the world, with purpose and a firmness of character he had come to admire.
Truly, he had come to love everything about her.
Continuing down the slope, he made directly for Esther.
He came to stand by her side, looking at her while she gazed out to sea. She must have seen him, but she did not so much as blink.
“I explained to your brother,” he said at last. “I am sorry for that, Esther. The conversation should have been different.”
“It hardly matters.” Esther did not move, did not smile or frown. “He is alive. That must be enough for now. I should not have left as I did. I apologize.”
“Stop,” he said, taking hold of her and gently turning her to face him. “You have nothing to apologize for. That was a discussion meant for family, for the three of us. And so much has happened today, and these past weeks. I do not think you owe anyone an apology.”
She dropped her gaze and her bottom lip trembled. “What about you?” she asked, almost too softly for him to hear over the lapping of the sea. When she raised her chin to look at him, he saw her fear. “Should I not ask your forgiveness? Not for saving you. I could never apologize for that. But for everything that came after. For my temper. My inability to rein in my behavior. The picnic. And I have been such a terrible burden, such an ungrateful child—”
He silenced her with a laugh, raising his hand to cup her cheek. “Stop, my dear. Please. We have both made mistakes, but I will never regret all that has happened between us.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Not even you falling into the brook. Actually, I think I am most grateful for your spontaneous decision to cross that log.”
“You cannot be serious,” she said, pushing back to meet his eyes again. “That thoughtless action forced you to marry me.”
Did she not know how he felt? He had not spoken the words to her, but in the past week alone he had done everything he could to convey his tenderness of feeling. With his actions he had sought to assure her of his growing affection.
“Esther,” he said firmly, putting his hands upon her waist and drawing her nearer. “I was already thinking about courting you once the gossip died away. How could I not? You rescued me from a falling statue, exhibiting your bravery and kindness. You did not even know it was me when you acted. You would have done the same for anyone.” Her curls danced in the wind, inviting him to tuck them back behind her ear. “Coming to know you as I have, I am quite certain your tumble into the brook only kept me from delaying what was already bound to be my course.”
Studying him with furrowed brows and the tiniest of wrinkles on the bridge of her nose, Esther slowly shook her head. “You do not mean it. Why would you have thought to marry me?”
“Because you are wonderful,” he said. “Brave, kind, honest, and intelligent. I love talking to you. Your artistry is admirable, your sense of self commendable.” He wanted to kiss her, to show her how he felt, but the words must be said. She had to know. “And I am certain I would have eventually come to love you in courtship as I love you in marriage.”
Her lips parted, and he caught her gasp of surprise in a kiss. Anyone upon the beach might have seen them, and he did not care. All that mattered was Esther, in his arms where she belonged. There would be more mistakes along the way, he was certain, but he would never leave her behind again. Never leave the important things unsaid. She held his heart in her hands with the same capability with which she wielded her paintbrushes.
As they parted from their kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed. The water lapped at their feet. “Perhaps one day, you will believe me,” he said. “And then it is my hope that you might return such feelings. But you need not—”
She hushed him, putting her lips to his in the gentlest of kisses. “Silas, I have loved you for a little while now,” she admitted. “Though I tried very hard not to. I cannot lose anyone else I love.”
Was that all she kept between them? The fear of his loss?
Esther continued before he could reassure her. “Having Isaac back, after I already accepted I must lose him, has stopped me from fearing it. None of us are here upon this earth forever. I will lose Isaac again someday. What matters is living without regrets, and loving without fear. I wish to make every moment we have together count. I love you. With my whole heart.”
Wrapping her in his arms, Silas held her as close as he could, his heart soaring. And then, with everything in his life at last perfect, a wave came rushing in upon them and completely soaked them to their shins.
Shrieking, Esther pulled away from him at the same moment another wave hit. He tried to catch her, but Esther stumbled back and fell into the water. She gaped up at him, while he stared down at her with shock. Then, unable to help himself, he started to laugh.
With her nose wrinkling in the most adorable, disgusted manner, she reached her hand up, but the moment he had her, ready to help her to her feet, Esther yanked him downward instead.
He landed atop her in the water, another wave crashing over them, drenching them both. They both gasped at the cold water, but then they were laughing again. Silas scooped up his wife, spinning them in a circle as saltwater dripped from his hair and face, his soaked coat heavy upon his shoulders. Droplets of water sprayed from her gown, and her curls hung limply about her face.
The dignified Earl of Inglewood, one of the most respected members of the House of Lords, only stopped laughing long enough to kiss his bride. When they returned to the house, though dripping wet, Silas decided there was nothing more beautiful than the joyful expression upon his wife’s face.
Chapter Twenty-five
It did not take long to explain things in full to Isaac. Much to Esther’s relief, he accepted all that had happened in the time she and Silas had been gone. He even apologized to Esther for not being more thoughtful of her position in society when he left. Then he took her aside, before they all went in to dinner that evening.
“Are you happy, Esther?” he asked, worry clearly etched in his frown. “Because if you are not, if there is anything I can do—”
“I am happy. I promise you.” She squeezed his hand, feeling the smallest measure of regret he only had one. Isaac was a strong, confident man. He had lived through one of the worst wars in history and came home to her. He would be all right. “I love Silas,” she added, unable to keep from smiling at the declaration. “And he loves me.”
Isaac chuckled and offered her his arm. “He would be a fool not to. As everyone seems to know, you did save his life.” They stepped into the dining room, where Silas stood by her chair, waiting for her.
Esther could not look away from the adoration in his gaze. “He saved mine, too.”
Hope, Grace, Jacob, Isaac, and Silas talked of old times that night at the table. It surprised Esther how often she remembered the exploits they spoke of, and how many times they spoke of her involvement in their games. The five of them together had been her heroes as she tried to follow along and be a part of their friendships.
As the dinner came to a close, Silas rose and called for everyone’s attention. “I should like to propose a toast to my wife, who is responsible for all of us being here tonight.” The others in the room looked to her with smiles while she blushed.
“My lady,” Silas continued, making the title sound more like an endearment. “You rescued me from the wrath of a fallen god.” He winked at her. “But what is more important is that you have filled my home and my heart with your kindness and yo
ur love. To Esther.”
They drank to her, and then Hope was on her feet. “While we are singing Esther’s praises, I must say something. My sister and I have been speaking of all that has happened this spring. It has been most abominable to be apart from all our friends for so long. We have come to the conclusion that we must reinstate the Silver Birch Society. This very evening, in fact.” She looked about her with a wide grin. “And while we are at it, we wish to induct a new member.”
Grace, from her place on Esther’s left hand, reached out and touched her arm. “Will you join our club, Esther?”
“Me?” Esther asked, almost laughing. “Surely not. The club is the five of you. You are inseparable. I couldn’t possibly—”
“You are one of us now,” Jacob added from her right. “You must join the club. Silas is right. We are all here tonight because you saved him, and because Isaac is alive, and because you let us stay to dinner even after we ruined your familiar reunion.”
Hope sat back down with a blush. “We were rather excited, Esther. It did not even occur to me how important it would be for you to be alone with Isaac for a time.”
“I could never wish you away,” Esther said firmly. “I am Isaac’s sister.” She grinned at her brother. “But you are all part of his family, too.”
“That settles the matter, I should think.” Silas rose and came around the table to her side. “If we are all family, we are all members of the club. All in favor of my wife, Esther Riley, becoming a member of the Silver Birch Society, vote now.”
A chorus of “ayes” came from the table, including her grinning brother.
“The ayes have it,” Silas declared.
“I think being in Parliament has made him bossier,” Jacob whispered loudly, and everyone laughed. “But this is a good idea. We have all been apart for too long. I suppose that is the way of things, now we are grown.”
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