Chapter Ten

S ilas had been grateful the men and women had been scheduled for separate activities today. He couldn't bear to see Lyric. Just glimpsing her on her way to the ladies' painting session at the lake had almost done him in. He had wanted to run after her, begging her to want him.

Even love him.

It amazed him after all these years how much his parents and their marriage still influenced him. They hadn't wanted to be bothered raising a child, and he had been handed off to servants. In all the time before their deaths, Silas had never learned how to please them or make them like him. As for love, that had never entered the conversation. If he truly analyzed what had gone on during his childhood, he could now see just how much the lack of attention he received from his parents shaped his life. He had become a person wanting to please others. He became charming, learning to get his way with his tutors at school and various classmates. When he got older, he learned to use his good looks and beguiling smile to seduce women of all ages.

Yet throughout his life, he had been a loner. Those on the outside would have thought he had numerous, close friends and not a care in the world. The truth was that he had countless acquaintances.

And no one to confide in. No one to lean on. Not a soul who truly understood him. He was, in truth, the outsider who had wormed his way into the core of everything, but he had remained rootless. Friendless. Except for Uncle Oscar.

What would his uncle think of this predicament Silas found himself in?

All his life, he had searched for acceptance from his parents and anyone else he encountered. He was the golden boy, with an abundance of intelligence, looks, and charm. But his life had been devoid of any close connections.

Until Lyric.

It didn't matter. It was over between them. What seeds had been planted had been unceremoniously uprooted, the garden of the growing relationship and the life they might one day share obliterated.

He had never hurt as much as he did in this moment.

Foolishly, he thought he could go on the hunt with the other guests this afternoon. He was distracted, though, and almost lost his seat from the horse more than once. For a skilled horseman such as himself, that alone was shocking. When Lord Carroll had left the hunt, Silas had followed him on a whim, deciding to seek advice from his one-time friend. He had poured out his heart to the earl, only to learn they were in identical situations. Both men had offered for a Strong. Both had been accepted.

And both had been unwilling—or unable—to speak the words of love their intended needed to hear.

Should he remain at the house party? He had berated Carroll for even thinking of leaving, telling his old friend his attempt to leave with nothing but his pride was mad. The earl had admitted he loved Allegra Strong, just as Silas loved Lyric. What was wrong with the two of them, that they could not express their feelings?

For his part, he still blamed his absent parents. Not only had they spent next to no time in the same household as him for over two decades, but they were also haunting him from the grave with their coldness and lack of feelings for their only son. Their behavior had shaped him, so much that he could not even utter the words in his heart. Words of love that Lyric needed—even deserved—to hear from him. Because of it, he had lost her. He had racked his brain, trying to come up with ways to convey the depths of his feelings for her, fearing any words he spoke to her, she would brush off as a poor attempt to persuade her to change her mind and marry him.

A knock at his door sounded, and Silas knew it was his valet, here to get him ready for tea. He admitted the servant to the bedchamber and said nothing, stripping off his clothes and changing into the new ones laid out for him.

Tea was held in the drawing room. He made certain to join a group with neither Lyric nor her twin. Instead, he sat with Lord Crowell, the old Miss Bancroft, Her Grace, and Mrs. Andrews. Mrs. Andrews kept trying to catch his eye, but Silas was in no mood for conversation with the former duchess. He merely drank his tea and tried to get down a scone while he ignored the laughter coming from Lyric's group.

"Are you quite all right, my lord?" Mrs. Andrews finally asked, her gaze pinning his.

He glanced and saw the others in their circle in conversation. Knowing there was no escape from her scrutiny, he shrugged.

"I would expect you to reply, Lord Blankenship," she chided. "It is not like you to brood."

"I am not brooding," he snapped, immediately regretting the words. "I am not, Mrs. Andrews," he added, softening his tone considerably.

"Then what has you so glum? You have been downcast ever since you entered the drawing room. Caleb told me you and Lord Carroll left the hunt early." She glanced about. "I see that Lord Carroll has not shown up for tea. Do you know where he might be?"

Carroll might have gone through with his plans and left Shadowcrest, but even Silas didn't think the earl would be so rude as to leave the house party without informing his hosts.

"I have not seen him," he said, taking a sip of his tea.

"Have you and Lyric quarreled, my lord? I thought you were getting along splendidly."

So, she had not yet spoken to her aunt of the events of last evening. He swallowed. "I would not term it a quarrel, Mrs. Andrews. Merely a parting of the ways."

"You are no longer interested in keeping company with her?" she asked, clearly concerned.

He needed to end this conversation right away. "It is a private matter," he said coolly. "One which I do not feel comfortable sharing with you. Perhaps your niece may wish to enlighten you at a later time."

Her gaze now bore into him. "Some things are worth fighting for, my lord. It takes a discerning gentleman to know when to let go—and when to take a stand."

Something told him that Lyric had spoken to her aunt. That Mrs. Andrews knew much more than she let on.

"Let it go. Please," he pleaded. "My heart is already heavy enough as it is."

She nodded sagely. "I will. For now. But if you have need of someone to listen to your problems, know that I am available."

Silas only wished he could speak openly to her about what had occurred, but she was Lyric's aunt. She would be on her niece's side. Not that there were sides to be had. Blast! He was so confused and upset, he no longer made sense.

"If you will excuse me, Mrs. Andrews, I think I will go and check on Lord Carroll and find out why he is absent from tea."

Without waiting to see if she protested, he quickly left the drawing room, having no intention of looking for Carroll. Instead, Silas retreated to the library. A maid was dusting the room, so he returned to his bedchamber and lay on the bed. He hadn't slept much last night, and he now fell into a fitful sleep.

What awakened him was his valet knocking again, ready to help Silas change for dinner. His eyes still felt gritty, and his sprits remained glum. He would make an appearance at dinner, though. Perhaps Lyric might be seated next to him, and he could try again. Of course, what she wanted to hear from him were words he felt in his heart but ones he could never express to her.

Because, in the end, he wasn't good enough for her. He never would be.

Lyric needed a man who came from a family such as hers. She needed someone who understood familial love, as well as the love a man felt for a woman.

He was not—and never would be—that man.

She would always remain in his heart, but he needed a wife who came from the same background as his. The marriage he eventually made would be the typical business arrangement of most marriages. He would return to town next Season and find a bride, thinking to look among the wallflowers. Any of them would be grateful to be plucked from obscurity and made a viscountess. They could wed and bed. Get him his heir. Life could then go on. He would spend most of it at Chase Oaks, caring for the estate and his tenants and enjoying time with his children. When in town, he would accompany his wife to ton events, but he simply couldn't have much to do with her.

Not when he would always want another woman in the role of his wife.

Dressed for dinner, Silas returned to the drawing room, where others were assembling in small groups. He joined Lord Lamkin, Lady Lida, and Their Graces, walking past Lyric without a glance in her direction. Accepting a drink from a footman, he forced himself to sip at it instead of draining it in one gulp. There would be plenty of time to get properly drunk after this house party concluded.

Then the atmosphere in the drawing room seemed to change. Silas watched a man in his late thirties stride across the room. He was about six feet in height, lean but appearing strong. He had thick, dark hair, and his face was bronzed by what had to be many hours spent in the sun.

The stranger went straight for Mrs. Andrews. He turned her and caught her in his arms, kissing her right in front of everyone gathered in the drawing room. It wasn't merely a quick kiss of greeting. It was a kiss which spoke of the connection between them.

He surmised this must be Captain Andrews, the seaman she had recently wed. He had learned that Andrews had given up his seafaring ways upon the marriage and was now heading up Neptune Shipping, the company owned by the Duchess of Seaton.

Spellbound, he could not pull his gaze away as the captain continued kissing the former duchess. The other guests seemed equally entranced. Silas dared a glimpse at Lyric and saw the wistful smile on her face.

Andrews broke the kiss. "I have missed you, love," he said, his voice raw with emotion. He looked about the room. "Forgive me for my brazen behavior. We are still newlyweds and have been separated for almost a week."

"No apologies are necessary," His Grace said. "We are happy to have you back at Shadowcrest, Captain Andrews. I know my duchess will be itching to talk business with you."

"Business will have to wait until tomorrow," Andrews said. "I am going to require time with my wife tonight."

Mrs. Andrews beamed at her husband. "You must meet our guests, Drake, and at least sup with them."

He smiled at her, and Silas saw the power in that smile—and the love this man had for his woman. "If you insist, love."

As they waited to be summoned to dinner, Mrs. Andrews took her husband about the room, introducing him to everyone. Once the captain had met the newcomers, he began to tell a few stories of his days at sea. The man was compelling, and the guests were easily drawn to him.

When he finished a story, Andrews said, "Enough from me. I must visit with my girls a bit before we go in to dinner."

Immediately, Lyric and Allegra flew to his side, and Silas could see how close the three seemed. He found it interesting that the former sea captain had referred to the twins as his girls. Again, he wondered what it was about this family that drew them to one another, the bonds so strong, seemingly unbreakable.

The butler announced dinner, and the only lady near Silas was the elder Miss Bancroft. He escorted her to the dining room, where a place had been added for Captain Andrews. Silas found himself seated between the younger Miss Bancroft and Miss Markle, but neither lady was interested in conversing with him. Instead they—and the entire table—continued to be spellbound by Captain Andrews and the stories he and the duke told.

Silas quickly figured out that the two men had been at sea together for many years. At one point, Andrews even referred to His Grace as Captain, arousing everyone's curiosity as to what had occurred during the years James Strong had been absent from London.

Dinner ended, with Her Grace saying the men could forgo their brandy and cigars one night, asking they all withdraw to the terrace instead.

"Wine and cakes will be served once we arrive," Her Grace told the guests. "Then we will return to the drawing room for charades."

He looked to Carroll. The earl had worn a distracted look ever since he had appeared in the drawing room. Carroll shrugged.

"As for my wife and I, we will see you tomorrow. Or the next day." Captain Andrews grinned shamelessly, and Mrs. Andrews blushed, swatting him playfully.

The group left the dining room, and he watched Lord Carroll slip away, heading up the stairs without a word. He only wished he could have done the same. But with a man down, it would be rude to not follow the others outside and then partake in the party game.

Once they had their wine and sweets, Her Grace suggested that they break into teams of males and females to play.

"We must show the gentlemen how swiftly we think, ladies," the duchess teased.

Silas was grateful they hadn't been paired up and thought it possible that Lyric and her twin had something to do with the arrangements this evening. Neither of them had looked at him once this evening. When his turn arrived, the twins had not made a single guess.

Two hours after dinner, the group broke for the evening. Her Grace reminded them they would be picnicking at the lake tomorrow afternoon. He returned to his bedchamber, up for hours, trying to think of excuses to leave the house party. None seemed good enough. Telling a duke and duchess he was leaving their event early was unthinkable.

He supposed he would have to make the best of the situation and continue to avoid Lyric as much as possible.