CHAPTER 17

As the following morning greeted Sylvia, she found herself seated in the peaceful quietude of her aunt's drawing room. Aunt Grace was seated at a polished mahogany desk in a corner, her quill scratching across parchment with swift, purposeful movements, while Sylvia gazed out the window, trying to piece the events of the previous night in her mind.

Of course, she had found herself mentioned in the scandal sheets yet again, it seemed that the ton had not yet forgotten about her yet. No one else had drawn enough attention to themselves which was utterly disappointing.

She was never going to be accepted by the ton.

Ever.

It was in this brittle quiet that the butler's measured steps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as he approached. Sylvia straightened in her chair, her heartbeat quickening, though she could not say why. Aunt Grace continued to write, seemingly unperturbed by the impending interruption. But then, she was unlikely to have a guest that brought out the anxiety within her, was she?

"Lord George Martin has arrived," the butler announced, much to Sylvia's relief. This was not someone that she needed to worry about at all.

Aunt Grace beamed happily as she placed her quill down at last. "Oh please, send him in."

The butler left, and Lord George Martin entered with a confident stride. He smiled adoringly at Aunt Grace, and Sylvia could not help but notice that her aunt returned the look. It reminded her a little of the way that Lord Wesley stared at her when he complimented her.

What did that mean of Lord Wesley's feelings for her?

And what did it mean for George and her aunt?

"Good morning, Lady Grace, Lady Sylvia," Lord George greeted, his voice smooth and reassuring. He took a seat and focused on Aunt Grace, until his eyes quickly spotted something sitting on the table. "Ah, the scandal sheets," he said with a frown. "Such silliness. I do not know anyone who pays attention to the words within them. No one with any decorum anyway."

His smile did manage to make Sylvia feel a little better, if only for a moment.

Lord George did manage to have a way of trivializing these issues, as if they meant nothing.

"Thank you, Lord George," Sylvia replied, attempting a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. She glanced at the offending papers, feeling the sting of their words once more. "But it seems that those without decorum are quite loud indeed. I can only hear their words over everyone else's."

Aunt Grace laid a comforting hand on Sylvia's arm as her eyes watered with worry. "Society's opinion is fickle and often unjust. I have always said that, and those who live in London can be the harshest of them all."

Lord George leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Lady Sylvia, you must not let these baseless criticisms affect you. Your worth is not determined by the idle gossip of those who have nothing better to do. You are far above their petty judgments. Everyone that I have spoken to does not care a jot about these silly words."

Just as Sylvia was about to leave the drawing room to let Aunt Grace and Lord George speak alone, the butler's voice echoed down the hallway once more, announcing another visitor.

"Lord Marcus wishes to call on Lady Sylvia."

Sylvia paused, her curiosity spiked. She did not miss the flicker of a frown that crossed Lord George's face as Lord Marcus entered, carrying a large bouquet of vibrant flowers that seemed to fill the entire room with a floral and beautiful scent.

"Good morning, Lady Grace, Lord George," Lord Marcus greeted with a nod before turning his full attention to Sylvia. "Lady Sylvia," he continued, bowing slightly as he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you. I could not help but think they would suit your elegance perfectly. As soon as I spotted them, I knew that they would be right for you."

Sylvia blushed, her fingers brushing against the delicate petals. "Thank you, Lord Marcus. They are beautiful." She felt a warmth spread through her at his compliment. Again, she was struck by how kind he was, how sweet even if they did not connect in the way that she might like.

It would be so much easier if they did.

"I must say, Lady Sylvia, your dress is quite enchanting today," Lord Marcus added, his eyes reflecting sincere admiration. "But then you always look ravishing. Every time I see you."

Sylvia's blush deepened, a mixture of shyness and pleasure. "You are too kind, Lord Marcus."

Lord Marcus glanced around the room, before his gaze settled on Sylvia once more. "I was hoping you might accompany me on a stroll in Hyde Park. The weather is perfect for a walk, and I thought it might be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. If you do not already have plans, that is."

Sylvia hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes flickering to Aunt Grace and Lord George. Aunt Grace gave her an encouraging smile, while Lord George's expression remained inscrutable, though a slight tightening of his jaw did not go unnoticed. What on earth had him so worried about? She was going to have to find out at some point.

"I would be delighted, Lord Marcus," Sylvia replied graciously, finding it refreshing that Lord Marcus still seemed unfazed by her station and the recent scandalous gossip. Maybe Lord George was right, and those worth bothering with really did not care what some silly papers had to say.

"Excellent," Lord Marcus said, his face lighting up with a pleased smile. "Shall we?"

Sylvia nodded, placing the bouquet on a side table and slipping her arm through his. As they exited the drawing room, she could not help but feel a sense of anticipation and relief. Lord Marcus's cheerful demeanor was a welcome respite from the stress that had overcome her since the soirée at Lady Rebecca's home. It was lovely that he did not seem to care about her flagging reputation in the scandal sheets. He seemed to want to spend time with her anyway.

A small smile played on her lips, because it allowed her to feel like there might be hope after all. She might be able to survive this Season, and even thrive in it.

***

Sylvia and Lord Marcus strolled through the sun-dappled paths of Hyde Park, accompanied by Aunt Grace's ever watchful maid, Lily, who of course kept her respectable distance. The spring time air was fragrant with blooming flowers, and the gentle hum of nature bloomed positivity through Sylvia. A positivity rushed through her, and just for a moment she allowed herself to see the beauty in London. Something that had mostly escaped her up until this point.

"It is a beautiful day, Lady Sylvia, do you not think?" Marcus remarked, his eyes twinkling as he looked around. "The park is simply radiant this time of year. The flowers are in full bloom, and the trees are lush and green. I do love it when it is like this. It makes me feel wonderful. So happy."

"Yes, it is indeed lovely," Sylvia agreed, her gaze following a butterfly flitting among the blossoms. She appreciated the lightness in Lord Marcus's tone, a welcome distraction from the heaviness that had settled in her heart. "I have always enjoyed spending time in nature. It reminds me of home."

"And where is home?"

Sylvia halted for a moment. She did not think that Lord Marcus would judge her, but the idea of speaking about her life in the vicarage brought a thick lump of emotion to the base of her throat. She just could not do it, so she focused on the other part of her life instead. That was a lot easier.

"Bath."

"Oh lovely. I have never been lucky enough to visit Bath myself."

But lord Marcus continued with light conversation, sharing anecdotes from his recent travels. He spoke of the charming villages he had visited in the countryside but none of them were quite like Bath.

Sylvia listened, nodding and responding when appropriate, but her thoughts kept drifting off elsewhere. As they walked, she found herself contemplating the practical benefits of a possible union with Lord Marcus. He was kind, charming, and clearly taken with her. Marrying him would secure her future, providing the stability and respectability she had always envisioned. His family was well regarded, and he seemed unaffected by the recent scandal surrounding her, which was truly amazing. Her aunt would be pleased as well, because she would have done exactly what was required of her this Season.

Yet, despite the logical appeal of such a match, Sylvia's heart remained conflicted. She tried to convince herself that Lord Marcus was a fitting suitor, one who could offer her a life of comfort and security. Perhaps, in time, she could grow to love him. The idea of a future filled with peace and possibly even a family was enticing.

But as she glanced at Lord Marcus, who was now pointing out a particularly beautiful rose bush, she could not shake the feeling that something was missing. There was a part of her that longed for a deeper connection. The sort of connection that she had felt with another lord.

One she already knew that she could not have.

It was a true shame that she could not simply feel in a way that would make her own life easier.

Why did she insist on torturing herself so much?

"Lady Sylvia, are you enjoying our walk?" Marcus asked, his voice drawing her back to the present.

"Yes, very much," Sylvia replied with a smile, though her heart still felt heavy. "The park is beautiful, and your company is most pleasant."

As they approached the lake, Sylvia's heart harbored doubts that grew more insistent with each passing moment. Memories of Lord Wesley, with his tender gaze and the undeniable connection they shared, played on a loop in her mind. She could not help but compare Lord Marcus to Lord Wesley, whose image seemed to dominate her heart more each day. Perhaps it was not right to compare the men, but she could not stop herself.

Lord Marcus's voice, pleasant and steady, barely penetrated her thoughts. "Lady Sylvia, have you ever seen the swans here? They are quite magnificent this time of year."

Sylvia forced a smile, her outward politeness concealing her inner struggle. "Yes, they are lovely, Lord Marcus. Quite lovely."

Sylvia's responses were automatic. She nodded and smiled at appropriate moments, yet her heart was far from engaged. The more she tried to focus on Lord Marcus, the more her thoughts drifted to Lord Wesley. She remembered the way Lord Wesley's hand had felt when it brushed against hers, the warmth of his touch lingering long after their moments together had ended. She wished nothing more than to be in his arms again, even if she knew that was a place she should not be.

It was a dangerous place for her to be. For herself, and her heart.

***

The sun had begun to dip in the sky a little as Sylvia and Lord Marcus arrived at her door step in his elegant carriage. The ride home had been quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words that hung between them like a veil of uncertainty.

As the carriage came to a stop, Sylvia turned to face Lord Marcus, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. He might not have been able to see the way her mind was tortured, but she felt incredibly guilty nonetheless. It was not right for her to continue to spend time with him if she did not intend to move this forward.

But she was also afraid to tell him as much.

She was scared of how he might react and what it might mean for her.

She was afraid that she would ruin everything and let her aunt down. That was her biggest fear of all.

"Thank you for the lovely afternoon, Lord Marcus," Sylvia said, her voice soft as she met his gaze. "I truly enjoyed our walk in the park."

Lord Marcus offered her a warm smile, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes, like he sensed she was holding back. "The pleasure was mine, Lady Sylvia. I am glad to have had the opportunity to spend time with you. I always enjoy speaking with you, I hope you know that."

There was a pause, a pregnant moment of hesitation as Lord Marcus seemed to search for the right words. Sylvia held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for him to speak. Fear gripped her as she worried that he might be about to confess some real feelings for her. Words that would trap her in a corner and she would have to make up her mind.

But to her relief, Lord Marcus merely nodded, his expression thoughtful yet resigned. "Until we meet again, Lady Sylvia."

Sylvia returned his nod with a small smile, grateful that he had chosen not to broach whatever topic lingered unspoken between them. It had been a very heavy day, and she needed a break. She needed some time to get her thoughts in order before she decided on her next move.

"Goodbye, Lord Marcus," Sylvia said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped out of the carriage onto the cobblestone pavement.

As the carriage pulled away, disappearing into the fading light of the evening, Sylvia watched its departure with a mixture of relief and regret. She could not deny the sense of liberation that washed over her, knowing that she had avoided a potentially uncomfortable conversation with Lord Marcus. But that conversation would have to come at some point, she just knew it. She was going to have to prepare herself for it.

Sylvia lingered on the doorstep for a moment longer, watching the last traces of Lord Marcus's carriage fade into the distance. The weight of her decision hung heavily upon her shoulders, the burden of uncertainty pressing down with each passing second.

With a heavy sigh, Sylvia turned away from the empty street and stepped inside the comforting embrace of her aunt's London home. The familiar sights and sounds offered little solace, however, as her mind continued to churn with thoughts of Lord Marcus and Lord Wesley, and the impossible situation in front of her.

One wrong move, and she would potentially lose everything, turning this Season into a complete disaster.