Silence closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make Winter worry. But Michael said we were in danger. And last night proved his concern quite real.” Her lips trembled again at the memory of Fionnula’s poor, ruined face. “The Vicar’s men killed the girl who’d been looking after Mary.”
“I’m so sorry,” Temperance said sincerely. “Caire and Asa have been watching Mickey O’Connor’s house for the last two days, waiting for a chance to come and get you out. When they saw the smoke and the commotion, they sent for Winter and went inside.”
Silence nodded. “The guards were killed at the front doors. Otherwise they would never have made it past the front hall.”
They didn’t say anything for a while, Silence thinking of Fionnula and worrying about Michael, still in danger from his enemies. Mary played for a bit, then let her dolly fall to the floor and knelt on the seat to look out the window.
Finally Silence sighed and glanced over at her sister. Temperance seemed younger somehow, she realized. She wasn’t more than eight-and-twenty of course, but for many years Temperance had been so grave, so mature and… and stodgy. “Marriage suits you.”
She had the satisfaction of watching her elder sister blush. “Oh! Thank you.”
Silence smiled a little. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Being loved. Loving in return.”
Lord Caire might be an intimidating man, but when he looked at Temperance something seemed to go still behind his eyes and he became entirely focused on her. Silence shivered. Had William loved her with such all-consuming devotion? She realized, a little sadly, that no, he hadn’t. She might’ve built a life around him—and the dream of him—but he had always been quite autonomous.
“It’s simply wonderful,” Temperance said, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. “Sometimes I find myself just looking at him and smiling. He’ll catch me and give me the most puzzled look and I can’t help laughing in his face and then he…” She shook her head and stopped. “Well, marriage is wonderful. I never knew it before.”
“You didn’t love Benjamin as you do Lord Caire,” Silence murmured. Temperance had been married very briefly when she was only a girl.
“No, I didn’t,” Temperance said quietly. “I never knew I could be this close to another person. It was such a surprise to me. But it’s not a surprise for you. You had this same thing with William.”
Temperance’s voice was gentle, but Silence still braced herself for the arrow of pain at the mention of William’s name. Strangely though, the hit wasn’t as bad as she expected. Oh, the pain of William’s loss was still there, of course. Perhaps it always would be. But it was dulled now and a little distant.
The pain that was close and immediate was the loss of Michael.
Silence sat stunned at the thought. She’d become intimate with him, it was true, but she never believed that Michael might mean something permanent to her. The notion was disquieting. After this morning she wasn’t even sure she’d see him again.
“Silence?” Temperance asked tentatively.
Silence sighed and shook her head. “Oh, I’ve created a mess!”
Her sister smiled. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”
Silence gave her a speaking glance. “I think I may be falling in love with a pirate.”
Temperance blinked. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” Silence leaned her head back against the squabs. “He’s entirely the wrong man for me. Not like William who was calm and kind and—”
“And good,” Temperance put in drily.
Silence glanced at her helplessly. “What am I to do? I’m not even sure I’ll see him again.”
“You won’t want to hear this,” Temperance said gently.
Silence scrunched her nose and turned back to the gloomy view. Still, she couldn’t ignore Temperance’s words:
“But perhaps it’s for the best.”
Chapter Thirteen
An army appeared at the base of the mountain, mounted men in armor and warriors on foot, carrying shields and swords. Quickly, Clever John ran down the mountain and led his army into battle to defend the kingdom. The shouts of men and the screams of horses were heard for miles around. When the shadows began to grow long, Clever John looked up and saw that his enemy was defeated. Only then did he notice the blue feather stuck in the links of the armor covering his right arm….
—from Clever John
Naturally, Lord Caire would have an overwhelmingly elegant country residence. Silence listlessly perused the great library in Lord Caire’s country manor, hoping for something—anything—to distract her from thoughts of Michael. The late afternoon sun shone in the glass doors, illuminating the great bookshelves that lined three walls of the room.
She’d heard no word from Michael in the week since she’d hastily left his palace.
She really ought to be more grateful. Huntington Manor was huge and rambling with lovely food and servants to take care of her every need. Actually she hadn’t quite gotten used to the servants. The butler was a terribly daunting elderly man and Silence found herself flushing furiously every time she had to speak to him. Oddly, Temperance seemed right at home as the new Lady Caire. One would think she’d always been a baron’s wife from the ease with which she consulted with the cook about meals and the housekeeper about decorations and such.
Silence shook her head and trailed her fingers over the spines of the books lined up like soldiers. The library, like everything else in Caire’s country estate, was magnificently appointed. Histories, poetry, philosophy, and even a few works of fiction could be found here. She should be happy to have the chance to simply sit and read. She had no chores here, no tasks or worries.
“Gah!” Mary said, patting the glass on the French doors. They looked out over a terrace bordered by a mown lawn. Mary was carefully walking down the glass doors, admiring the view and the crows on the lawn.
Silence turned back to the bookshelf and pulled out a book at random. It was a treatise on Latin history—or so she thought. Her Latin was rather poor. She wrinkled her nose and replaced the book.
A week and no word from Michael. Well, it was silly to expect otherwise, wasn’t it? He’d sent her away with Caire and her brothers and even though he’d done so to protect her, perhaps he’d been secretly relieved to see her go. Without her around he could have tarts in his palace once again—two at a time in his bed, if he wished!—and go back to his wastrel pirate ways.