CHAPTER 18

The gentle sway of the carriage as it traveled the bustling streets of London provided a welcome respite for Wesley, who sat in silence beside his sister. This was exactly why he had accepted his sister's invitation to visit Hyde Park, so he could get away from his mother's unimpressed glare. It was as if he had become a stranger to her, and she absolutely refused to reconnect with him again.

Wesley was exhausted by the whole situation, and he desperately needed a break.

Beside him, Harriet fidgeted nervously, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. Wesley could sense her unease, could feel the weight of their mother's expectations bearing down upon them like a heavy cloak. He had never wanted his issues to affect his sister, but it seemed like that was happening regardless which was very stressful. This was why he longed to sort things out with his mother, to repair the fractures forming in their relationship, but the only way that he could do so was to follow her rules.

He truly did not wish to follow her rules.

Eventually, Harriet broke the silence, her voice a gentle ripple in the stillness. "Wesley, I invited you out today so that we can talk about everything. I think that we need to discuss things properly, or things with Mother and you are only going to get worse."

Wesley exhaled a heavy sigh. "Well, as I am sure you have already realised, it is Lady Sylvia. Mother's disapproval of her weighs heavily on me. I wish she could see Lady Sylvia as I do, for the kind and genuine person that she is. I wish she would at least listen to me, and understand that she is the one that I wish to pursue. I know that she wants me to wed Lady Arabella, she has been endlessly vocal about that, but Lady Arabella and I will never be able to get along. Not the way Lady Sylvia and I would. She really is special."

Harried nodded understandingly. "I understand, Wesley," she murmured softly. "Lady Sylvia truly possesses a remarkable spirit, and it pains me to witness Mother's bias cloud her judgment. I have a great affection for her as well; it is evident that she possesses a genuinely kind and lovely disposition. I comprehend the reasons behind your admiration for her."

A fleeting smile crossed Wesley's lips as he nodded in agreement, his thoughts drifting to Lady Sylvia's warmth and sincerity. But even as he found solace in their shared admiration for Lady Sylvia, he knew that it did not change a thing. It was his mother who needed to see his point of view, but she adamantly refused.

"It feels as though I'm being swept along by forces beyond my control," he admitted to his sister, "and the thought of spending my life bound to someone I do not love fills me with dread. Just because it will put our family in ‘good standing'."

Harriet listened intently, her brow furrowing with concern as she pondered his words. "Well I would not want you to marry for duty. Even if it affects my reputation, as Mother has suggested, I do not care. I would not wish to marry someone who can be so shallow."

Wesley smiled at his sister's determination and unwavering support. She really was a wonderful person. "Perhaps you are right, Harriet."

A ghost of a smile played upon Harriet's lips, her eyes alight with pride. "That is the spirit, Wesley," she exclaimed, her voice brimming with encouragement. "And as for Lady Arabella... Well, let me just say that I would not be thrilled to have her as a sister in law either. I know I was enthusiastic in the beginning, but I have seen a side to her that I am not too keen on in recent times. I do not think that she is the right woman for you. It is obvious."

Wesley chuckled softly at Harriet's candid confession, feeling a sense of comradeship that lightened his burden. "It is comforting to know I am not alone in this, Harriet," he said, his voice tinged with gratitude. "Because Mother refuses to see the bad sides to Lady Arabella. She will not hear it at all."

Harriet squeezed his hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with determination. "I am sure that this is something we will be able to figure it out, Wesley. Somehow."

Lost in thought, Wesley barely noticed the carriage slowing to a stop until the coach man opened the door, his gloved hand extended to help them alight. They had arrived at their destination. Hyde Park, which he hoped would provide him with an oasis of peace. A welcome reprieve from the city's ceaseless clamor.

Despite the park's serene beauty, Wesley's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Lady Sylvia. His heart ached with a longing he could not suppress, a longing that was becoming more powerful and intense by the moment. Almost overwhelmingly so.

"Wesley," Harriet said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "you must try to find some peace today. I know it is difficult, but perhaps this walk will help clear your mind. Let us just enjoy being in the park before we are faced with the problems of our lives once more."

He nodded absently, grateful for her presence but unable to shake his preoccupation. The rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath their feet did nothing to cool his racing, burning hot thoughts. It seemed that his issues would follow him everywhere…

A sentiment which suddenly became all too real as he spotted an unwelcome sight before him…

Was it…?

Ahead, by the edge of the Serpentine Lake, stood the center of his problems. Lady Sylvia. Her laughter carried on the breeze, a sound that both comforted and unsettled him in equal measures. Beside her was Lord Marcus, which only made things worse. His posture casual and his expression warm as he spoke to Lady Sylvia, monopolizing all of her time. Wesley's gut tightened with a mix of jealousy and concern, emotions he struggled to conceal because it hit him so hard.

Harriet followed his gaze, her eyes widening in recognition. "Is that Lady Sylvia?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"It is," Wesley replied, his tone carefully controlled. "And Lord Marcus."

A flicker of understanding passed over Harriet's face. "Shall we greet them?" she asked awkwardly.

Wesley hesitated, the conflicting emotions warring within him. His instinct was to approach, to claim Lady Sylvia's attention and assert his place beside her where he rightfully belonged. Yet, a more rational part of him urged caution, warning against an impulsive display that could betray his deeper feelings and overcomplicate everything.

"No," he said finally, his voice steady but strained. "Let us keep our distance. I do not wish to intrude."

Harriet studied him for a moment, then nodded in acquiescence. "Very well, Wesley. But know that I am here if you need me."

With a faint smile, he squeezed her arm in silent thanks. Together, they continued their walk, maintaining a discreet distance from the pair by the water's edge. Wesley's gaze continued to flicker over to Lady Sylvia, his heart aching with each passing moment.

Did she really like him? Had Wesley been wrong about their connection? Was it possible that he was already losing her without even realizing it? Lord Marcus was charming and attentive, and had qualities that made him a worthy companion. Yet, it was Lady Sylvia's laughter, her genuine enjoyment of the moment, that cut the deepest.

He only liked it when she laughed with him.

As Lady Sylvia and Lord Marcus eventually strolled away, their figures gradually fading into the distance, Wesley was engulfed by a profound sense of loss. The cheerful ambiance of Hyde Park seemed to dim, leaving him with a heaviness that settled deep in his chest. This was not the peaceful walk that he had anticipated.

In fact, he felt like it was time for them to leave as well.

"Can we leave?" he asked his sister morosely.

She nodded. "Of course. Let us return to the carriage now."

"Do you think Lady Sylvia knows about Lord Marcus's gambling?" Wesley finally asked, breaking the silence as they neared the carriage. His voice was low, almost as if he feared the answer. "And all the rumours surrounding him?"

Harriet glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. "I am not sure," she replied. "From what I know of her, Lady Sylvia is intelligent and perceptive, but she is not as accustomed to London society, so perhaps she does not know these things."

Wesley nodded, his brow furrowed in contemplation. He knew that Lady Sylvia deserved someone who would cherish her, someone who could offer her stability and genuine love. Lord Marcus, with his reckless habits, seemed far from the ideal match. But could he be any better when his mother was so against her? That was not a life that she deserved either.

"Lord Marcus is not right for her," Wesley said with quiet conviction. "I am sure of it."

Harriet sighed softly. "Then you must find a way to show her that, Wesley. But remember, it is not just about revealing Lord Marcus's flaws. You need to demonstrate your own worthiness as well. If that is what you want…"

As they approached the carriage, Wesley's thoughts continued to swirl. He found himself torn between the societal obligations that loomed over him and the desires of his heart. His mother's expectations were a constant pressure, urging him to conform to the norms and secure a favorable match. Yet, his feelings for Lady Sylvia were undeniable, a beacon of light that cut through the darkness of doubt and uncertainty. Feelings that he knew he could not ignore, no matter what.

***

Later that evening, Wesley stood at the entrance of his family's dining room, steeling himself for yet another impending dinner with Lady Arabella and her parents. One that his mother had insisted on, probably to try and remind Wesley of who he was supposed to be focused on. Ever since they had returned from Hyde Park, their mother had been on fire, insisting that they wear their finest clothing and for the house to be decorated perfectly.

For his mother, this was clearly a big night.

But he did not feel the same way.

As he took a deep breath and entered the room, Wesley's gaze swept over the assembled guests. Lady Arabella, resplendent in a shimmering gown of deep blue, greeted him with a warm smile. Her parents grinned too, with an expectant look. It seemed that everyone was hoping that this would be a night of progress.

Everyone aside from him.

"Good evening, Lord Wesley," Lady Arabella greeted him, her voice melodic and poised. "It is a pleasure to see you."

"And you as well, Lady Arabella," Wesley replied, forcing a polite smile. "I trust you are well."

"Quite well, thank you," she responded, her eyes lingering on his face as if searching for something beyond his courteous demeanor. But of course he could not give her that.

His mother seemed to spot it as well because she shot him a warning glance as he took his seat. He was going to have to be on his best behavior tonight if he did not want an embarrassing eruption. But how could he manage that without raising everyone's expectations even more?

Through out the dinner, Wesley maintained a composed exterior, responding to Lady Arabella's attempts at conversation with practiced ease. He kept an emotional distance in an attempt to show her that this was not going to progress, but he remained as polite as he could manage.

Yet it made no difference. He could feel all eyes upon him, waiting for him to do something. But they were going to have to keep on waiting because his stance had not changed. Lady Arabella was not the one for him, just as Lord Marcus was not for Lady Sylvia.

They belonged together, if they could just find a way to make that happen…