Unrequited Love

by Rebecca King

  “How dare you disinvite him?” Wilhelmina spat, turning on Mabel with a venom that made Ryan step protectively in front of Sian’s mother.

  “He wasn’t invited in the first place,” Martha argued. “Neither were you for that matter, Wilhelmina. You just turned up uninvited, and rudely brought him along without any consideration to the people who already lived there.”

  “She has no place else to go,” Ryan suddenly announced to the group.

  “Pardon?” Mabel stared blankly at him.

  “I confess, Wilhelmina has lied to you about the house fire.”

  “How dare you suggest such a thing?” Wilhelmina cried.

  “Oh, I dare,” Ryan countered. “Because I have been to view your house for myself, to see what repairs are needed to get it inhabitable again. There is absolutely no sign of there ever having been a fire bad enough to render you homeless.”

  Wilhelmina’s face turned florid with the force of her outrage. Ryan watched her slide a worried look at Cedrick, who had yet to speak but now looked uncomfortable. Ryan then turned to Mabel and continued: “There is no furniture, so either she has hidden it or sold it. Whatever she has done with it, the house itself remains inhabitable.”

  “It is not.” Wilhelmina, for all her forty and three years, stomped her foot in outrage. “That house is dire. It is draughty, cold, and not fit for purpose. It is uninhabitable.”

  She tipped her chin up and glared at Ryan, as if challenging him to deny it. Ryan sighed but refused to be cowed by the woman’s contempt. He was now glad he hadn’t invited her into the house. He didn’t want the dratted woman across the threshold.

  “What have you done with the furniture?” he demanded.

  “I got robbed,” Wilhelmina burst out. It was obvious to everybody she was lying.

  “Really.” Mabel shook her head in disbelief.

  “It doesn’t matter where the furniture is. It is in storage. I had to remove what was left of it before that got stolen too,” Wilhelmina cried. “Oh, how dare you be this cruel to me?”

  “Here we go again,” Mabel sighed.

  “What was that?” Wilhelmina squinted spitefully at her.

  Mabel glared at her. “Well, every time you don’t get your own way, you accuse and threaten everyone around you. When that fails to work, you then start to act as if everyone has wronged you and everyone owes you something.”

  “Arthur has a duty to look after me. Are you saying that you are encouraging him to shirk his duty? To his own sister? Me? That you would rather see me out on the street than offer me a safe haven in my hour of need?” Wilhelmina snatched a handkerchief out of her cuff and dabbed ineffectually at her nose. It wasn’t needed because she wasn’t crying; she was just pretending to be upset. Her eyes remained cold and calculating as she glared at Mabel, daring her to deny it.

  “We would do no such thing in a case of genuine need, but I don’t see why we should accommodate your friend as well. I assume he has a family of his own?” Mabel slid a look at Ryan, who appeared to know something about Cedrick’s family as well.

  Curiously, he didn’t say anything, but merely stared at the folly across the lake as if he wanted to be floating on the water than listening to a family argument. She realised then just how much of a difficult situation he was now in, and all because of her relations.

  “Cedrick, go home. You have stayed and made sure that Wilhelmina is fine, and I am sure she appreciates it, but it is now time for you to go and stay with your family. They have to accommodate you. It is their duty to see to your accommodation in your hour of need. Meantime, Wilhelmina, it is time for you to get your furniture out of storage and return it to your house. Then you can move back in where you belong.” Mabel began to usher her daughters toward the house, eager to get them off the drive and away from the curious gazes of any servants who might be watching.

  “Don’t you think you have taken enough advantage of the lord? Do you know what a mockery you are making of your own husband? What is it going to look like if it appears that you, a married woman, would prefer to stay with the lord of the manor rather than your own husband?”

  “How dare you suggest there is anything untoward going on?” Mabel whirled to level a glare on Wilhelmina that was full of fury and was hard enough to make even Wilhelmina blink warily. “Anybody who suggests such a vile thing has no opinion worthy of note, as far as I am concerned. I am here because Sian was injured the other day, as the villagers know because they helped look for her, while you stayed at the house. They know she was badly hurt and needs to recuperate and wasn’t fit to travel all the way home the night she was found. Anybody who wants to make up scurrilous lies about that has no right to do so and are nothing but cruel and spiteful. How lurid of you to suggest such a thing, though, Wilhelmina.”

  “Believe me when I tell you that it is no inconvenience to me. I quite like the company. I shall, of course, have a word with Arthur to tell him that personally if he wishes to hear it from someone reliable. Meantime, I shall also inform him that there has obviously been some miscommunication and there is absolutely no reason why you should not return to your own home forthwith. For the time being, though, Sian and her sisters and mother are all under my protection and will remain that way until I see fit. The gossips can make what they want of it, but I think they have enough to talk about right now without bothering with us.”

  “What do you mean?” Mabel asked quietly.

  Ryan looked at her. He coughed and tugged on his ear; something Sian knew he did when he was uncomfortable about something.

  “They are asking why Sian was out in such awful weather, and so eager to get away from the house, and are looking to your sister-in-law and her – guest – as the cause,” Ryan explained. “There is curiosity about why they turned up in the middle of the night as they did, and why Sian was so eager to get away from them.”

  “People are gossiping but not about us,” Mabel repeated dully. “They are talking about you, Wilhelmina. I would ask you to be a little circumspect about what you do. I mean, it won’t do your reputation any good to go gadding about the countryside with a man half your age, now will it?”

  Wilhelmina blinked at her. She opened her mouth, clearly outraged at any hint of an intimate relationship between her and the much younger man.

  “It won’t do to influence my daughter’s marriageable status by being connected to someone who behaves so scandalously,” Mabel added.

  Lucinda and Martha looked at each other but struggled to keep their amusement off their faces. Sian shook her head so faintly that Ryan would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her closely.

  Their eyes met. Sian was so busy staring lovingly at him that she missed what Wilhelmina said next. It was only when Wilhelmina whirled around and stalked toward the still waiting carriage, that Sian realised the woman was leaving. She blinked and looked up but found her gaze meeting Cedrick’s far too intent stare.

  “Your father demands your return home. We have our betrothal to discuss,” Cedrick announced. He slid an insolent gaze over Ryan before promptly bowing and backstepping until the carriage came into view.

  “I am not betrothed to you, Cedrick, and never shall be,” Sian bit out. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

  She was prevented from saying anything more by Ryan, who ushered her into the house.

  “Ignore him. He is just goading you and trying to make a very foolish point,” he soothed.

  When she was alone in the hallway with him, though, Sian turned to look at Ryan with somewhat sad eyes.

  “I am sorry for that. It was in poor taste,” she whispered, thoroughly ashamed of the woman she was related to.

  “It isn’t your fault, Sian. In all the time you have been under my roof, I have never seen you do, or say, anything that is the remotest bit embarrassing or discomforting. You behave with grace and dignity and are a pleasure to have around. You are not responsible for Wilhelmina’s lack of manners.”

  Si
an looked so miserable that Ryan felt bad for her. Aware that Mabel and her daughters were chatting outside, and likely to interrupt them at any moment, Ryan captured Sian’s wrist with gentle fingers and led her into his study. Once there, he boldly closed the door, sealing them into the hushed confines of his favourite room. Rather than offer her a drink or a seat, he gathered her into his arms.

  “It isn’t your fault,” he repeated.

  “It just doesn’t seem fair. You have been so nice to us, and so kind and patient. She has no right to turn up here and create a scene like that. It is embarrassing, and I apologise for it,” Sian moaned.

  “You cannot choose your family, I am afraid.”

  Ryan’s gaze fell to her lips. Her family suddenly became the last thing on his mind. Before she could say another word, Ryan captured Sian’s lips with his and showed her just how little he was bothered by Wilhelmina, Cedrick’s claim that she was betrothed, or her father’s dictates. Ryan wanted Sian with him, in his home, so they could spend some time getting to know each other. His house was somewhere where Sian would, hopefully, be able to see him as something more than the lord who owned the mansion next door. Hopefully, she might then start to fall a little bit in love with him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Later that evening, Ryan and Sian sat on the chaise listening contentedly to a bickering argument between Martha and Lucinda, who were regaling them with anecdotes about their childhood. Ryan had never felt so content in his life, and this was evident with the shared looks of absolute adoration he exchanged with Sian, who had settled next to him with a naturalness that left him in little doubt she was meant to be there.

  Unfortunately, their contentment didn’t last. They were soon interrupted by the arrival of the butler, who looked concernedly at Ryan.

  “What is it Hargreaves?” Ryan asked, straightening in alarm at the look on the butler’s face.

  “There is a gentleman who wishes to speak with Miss Martha, sir.” Hargreaves looked at Mabel. “He is a tad upset, sir.”

  “Do we have a name for this gentleman?” Ryan asked. He threw Sian a rueful look and made his way to the fireplace whereupon he began to poke the flames back into life.

  “It’s a Mr Isambard Rodgers, sir. I have put him in the study.”

  Martha gasped and looked fearfully at her mother as she surged to her feet.

  “Hargreaves, fetch Mr Rodgers, will you?” Ryan murmured.

  Hargreaves hurried off and promptly returned with a nervous looking Isambard Rodgers. Ryan lifted his brows and grinned. The young man looked so scared, Ryan was certain that if he shouted ‘boo’, Isambard would race out of the door and run all the way home in fright.

  “Might I have a word with Miss Martha?” Isambard asked politely after the requisite greetings and a stiff bow.

  “I think that would be entirely inappropriate, don’t you?” Ryan warned with a somewhat fatherly air of concern.

  Sian slid a smile at her mother, who beamed with delight.

  “Whatever has happened?”

  “There has been something of an altercation, sir,” Isambard announced. “With the young lady’s father, sir.”

  “What has he done now?” Mabel stood up and ushered Isambard into a chair. He perched so precariously on it that Sian wondered how he managed to stay seated.

  “What has he said to you?” Ryan asked.

  Isambard looked regretfully at Mabel. “I don’t wish to speak ill of him on account of him being your husband, ma’am.”

  His gaze locked on Martha but was so sad that Sian immediately moved to the edge of her own seat. Ryan instantly moved to stand beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Sian immediately captured her hand in his while she waited to hear the terrible news.

  “He has objected to my association with Miss Martha and has said that he would never allow us to be wed,” Isambard choked out.

  “What else has he said?” Mabel whispered, staring hard at Isambard.

  “He has said that if I don’t sever all contact with her then he is going to get me removed from my position because Mr Richardson won’t employ someone who is prepared to ruin a young girl’s reputation. I told him that I had every intention of offering for her, but he made it clear that I am not worthy enough for her hand. He says he would not allow such a union.”

  “Oh, really. Well, we shall see about that,” Mabel bit out. “Has he spoken with Mr Richardson?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Isambard whispered. He coughed and forced his shoulders back. “Yes. I do believe he spoke to him after I left this evening.”

  “What did Mr Richardson say?”

  “I am not sure, but I cannot lose my job. It is a better position than I had ever hoped to get,” Isambard continued.

  He looked so miserable that Ryan struggled to know what to say to console him.

  “You won’t lose your job,” Mabel assured him. “As for Martha, there is no earthly reason why Arthur should not consider you worthy enough for her. Why, you are an apprentice accountant. It is a fine and credible position indeed. It is foolish of anybody to claim otherwise.”

  “I have to go to town tomorrow,” Ryan said. “How about I pay a visit to Mr Richardson?”

  “Oh, could you?” Martha gasped.

  “I don’t know what I can do about any warning Arthur has given the man, but I can assure Mr Richardson that he will lose my business if he gets rid of reputable employee like Isambard.”

  Isambard blinked at looked at him with such awe that Ryan knew he had expected to be thrown out on his ear. That set Ryan to wondering how the locals viewed him. Everyone certainly seemed to expect the worst of him. As far as he was aware, he had never done or said anything to anybody that would give them the impression he was some sort of draconian monster. It was a little worrying and made a mental note to ask Norman about it the first chance he got.

  “It would be so wonderful if you would,” Mabel breathed.

  Ryan didn’t mind because he personally wouldn’t want an accountant who had his business ruled by another man’s stringent dictates.

  “What do we do if father won’t agree to us marrying? Should we run away?” Martha looked askance at Isambard, who was too busy staring miserably at the fire to notice to begin with. When Martha’s words did register on him, he looked truly horrified.

  “If we wed, we are going to do it properly and with our families in attendance,” he commanded in an uncompromising voice.

  Martha immediately nodded her agreement, but still looked doubtful. “Then we aren’t likely to wed because once father says he won’t agree to something it is unlikely anybody can make him change his mind.”

  She began to weep quietly. Isambard immediately stood up and hurried up to her. Soothing her gently, he looked at Ryan. “What do I do?”

  “You can do nothing for the time being. I will speak with Mr Richardson in the morning. Ignore Arthur. Unless there is any need for you two to rush into marriage, there is no reason to panic. You carry on as you were and let us deal with the rest.” Ryan offered the younger man a smile of encouragement and received Isambard’s effusive thanks.

  “Thank you,” Sian mouthed.

  Ryan winked at her. It was only later, when Isambard was being escorted to the front door by a besotted Martha, and Mabel had taken Lucinda up to her bed chamber to calm her frazzled nerves, that Ryan and Sian were alone and able to talk privately.

  “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for this,” Sian began.

  “Can you just clarify whether your father is usually like this?”

  “Dictatorial?” Sian asked.

  She sighed and contemplated what to say. It wasn’t that she minded telling Ryan her family’s intimate details. After everything he had done to help them, taking him into her confidence was mandatory. However, it was difficult to know what to say that didn’t make her sound disloyal to her father, who had done his best. It was just that he was a little, well, dictatorial.

  “In the p
ast, my father used to play with us a lot. We never had the kind of house where we were confined to the nursery. We ran around the house and had a happy childhood. It has only been these last couple of years or so that he seems to have aged beyond his years. He has become aloof, dictatorial, and has lost most, if not all, of the contentment he used to have. I think contentment is the right word. He seems unhappy but is unable to identify why.”

  “His marriage to your mother is not a happy one,” Ryan sighed as he dropped onto the chaise beside her.

  “No. I am afraid to say that whatever has gone wrong, their marriage is not what it used to be. They used to be close. They were always sharing loving looks and working together to run the house. Of course, father always used to make the decisions, and mother oversaw the staff, but that was fine. Everybody was content. Now, father appears to almost resent everyone and his relationship with my mother has suffered badly.”

  “Has your mother never mentioned why?”

  “No. She won’t discuss it. Of course, it doesn’t help that whenever she asks for things to happen, like the study needs a new décor, father always puts her off. When Wilhelmina asks for anything, she gets it without question. Whenever mother takes him to task over something, he gets angry and resents her questioning him. It is unfair, especially when the house is practically falling apart yet he won’t do anything to repair it. Mother, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to have an opinion anymore. She is largely ignored and invariably scolded when she does try to say something. I think she is going to go to Aunt Sophia’s with us but will be even less likely to return than me.” Sian tipped her head back to look at him. “Do you know something? I don’t think father would care either. He certainly wouldn’t go after her.”