Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(57)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

THE DAY WAS well established when Silence woke from restless, dream-filled sleep. She lifted her head and immediately winced at the crick in her neck. Outside the carriage window the rays of the sun shone on gray fields rolling away to the horizon.

“We’ll make Oxford tonight,” Temperance said from across the carriage.

She held Mary Darling in her lap. Mary was cradling a brand-new doll, but she cast it aside when she saw Silence was awake and stretched out her arms mutely.

“Already?” Silence murmured as she took the babe. She’d not traveled much outside London in her life, but she knew they’d gone a great distance in the night. A great distance away from Michael.

“We changed horses in Chepping Wycombe,” Temperance said, “but you did not wake. Caire tells me that we’ll stop again in a bit for luncheon. There’s a lovely inn in the next town with a cozy back room where we can sup in private. We stopped there on our way to Caire’s estate in Shropshire after the wedding.”

“That’s where we’re headed then? Shropshire?”

“Yes, we thought it the safest place—away from London where we can guard you and Mary properly.”

At the mention of her name Mary made an impatient wiggle. The baby climbed from Silence’s arms and sat beside her, though that certainly wouldn’t last long. Mary hated sitting still, except when looking through the little illustrated book Michael had given Silence. She loved the little men in their funny boats and the strange monsters that rose from the tiny cobalt sea…

Silence remembered with a pang that the book was back at the palace. She’d probably never see it again.

She sighed heavily and showed the baby her dolly. “Where is Lord Caire?”

“He’s riding outside,” Temperance replied. “He thought we might like the time alone together.”

Silence flushed, looking away from her sister’s too-perceptive sherry-brown eyes. Temperance always had been maddeningly helpful and levelheaded. “I should thank you, I know.”

Temperance pursed her lips thoughtfully, “But you won’t?”

“No, no, I will.” Silence took a deep breath, trying to organize her muddled thoughts. “Thank you, truly.”

“But?”

“But I didn’t need rescuing.”

Temperance simply looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised.

“I know,” Silence burst out. “He’s a pirate and… and a terrible, nasty person who hurt me badly before and I was in his clutches—”

Temperance cleared her throat delicately. “I heard you were rather enjoying his clutches.”

“Winter tattled, didn’t he?” Silence asked darkly.

A corner of Temperance’s mouth twitched. “It was Asa, actually. He sounded a bit like an elderly maiden with shocked sensibilities.”

Silence crossed her arms under her bosom and slumped rather mulishly in Caire’s rich carriage seat. “I suppose he and Concord are riding outside, too?”

“No.” Temperance shook her head. “Concord had to get back to the brewery. Asa rode with us as far as Chepping Wycombe last night, but then he muttered something about business that couldn’t wait and left.”

“Humph.” Silence didn’t know whether to be hurt that her rescue apparently didn’t rate very high on Asa’s to-do list or relieved that she wouldn’t have to face him again over luncheon. “Winter?”

“He had to stay at the home, naturally,” Temperance said gently. “They are rather short of help at the moment.”

And that was her fault, as well. Silence bit her lip, looking out the window as the gray scenery passed. The sun had risen fully, but it was rather defeated by the late winter landscape. The day looked cold and unwelcoming.

She’d made a muddle of this, she knew. She’d gone to Mickey O’Connor’s house initially intending to merely endure to the best of her ability—and she’d ended by calling him “Michael” and kissing him enthusiastically in his bedroom.

Well, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? He was no longer Charming Mickey O’Connor, infamous pirate, to her. She found him charming, yes, it was true, but charming in a much more intimate, personal way. She’d never been tempted by the pirate.

She was deeply tempted by the man.

“That dress is quite lovely,” Temperance observed in a carefully even tone.

Silence swallowed a lump in her throat. Her indigo dress was lovely—and she’d probably never have occasion to wear it again. He’d promised to take her to the opera once more and now he never would.

“He’s seduced you, hasn’t he?” Temperance asked quietly.

“Not in the way you mean,” Silence answered without looking away from the dismal view. “I haven’t gone to his bed. But, yes, I suppose I am seduced.”

“I don’t understand.”

Silence shook her head slowly. “He’s different than what everyone thinks him. Well, different and yet the same. He’s so… so much more. More charming, stronger, more clever. I don’t know if he has any sense of shame, but I do know he feels—and feels deeply. And… and that fascinates me—the difference between his public face and his private face.”

“None of that sounds like he cares at all for you,” Temperance said.

“Doesn’t it?” Silence stared at her lap. “I think he does care something for me, actually. You haven’t seen the way he’s taken care of me, after all. But I’m not sure that really matters in the end—whether he cares for me or not. It has no bearing on my feelings toward him.”

“Perhaps not,” Temperance said, her voice hard now. “But you must see that it has a great deal to do with how I feel about Mr. O’Connor. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I’m not the only one who feels thusly. I’ve never seen Concord so beside himself.”

Silence winced. “Was he very angry?”

“I think it was mostly worry, but of course he showed it as anger—he is a man after all. It took Winter half the night to convince Concord to go home to his family. Otherwise your Mr. O’Connor might be sporting a blackened eye this morning.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Asa was quite upset, I think, though one can never quite tell with him, and Winter… Silence, Winter has been terribly grim. He loves you, you know, in his own quiet way, and I think he’s spent the time you were away worrying constantly.”