by Meghan Sloan
“The first thing you should do is eat, my boy,” she said tartly. “Father said we shall discuss it at dinner, in full. He has been pondering it, in his study.” She paused. “Go on. It will make you feel a little better.”
Silas nodded, picking up a cucumber sandwich. It tasted like ashes in his mouth, but he kept eating. He didn’t want to distress his mother any more than he had to. He knew how worried she was about him.
As he forced his way through the food, beneath his mother’s watchful eye, he couldn’t help thinking of Alice again.
She would be waiting for him. And every hour that he delayed in seeing her again, she would be in an agony of doubt. He could almost see her, waiting for him, looking out her bedchamber window. He had promised that he would call on her as soon as he returned to Bath. How could he put her through that?
What the deuce was he supposed to do about any of it?
***
His appetite hadn’t returned by the time the dinner gong sounded. He had been toying with the idea of making an excuse to not go down, but in the end, he knew that he must. He had to talk to his father about it sooner or later, and he may as well get it over and done with.
When Silas entered, the old man was already sitting at the head of the table, a grim look on his face. Next to him, his mother looked slightly sick, but at least she had forced a smile. Silas took his seat, unfolding his napkin as the servants brought in the first course.
They were halfway through the second before his father put his knife and fork down, staring at him intently.
“A strange state of affairs,” he announced, his brows lifting. “I do not think anyone, not even Miss St. George’s parents, thought that they would ever see her alive again.”
Silas winced. It was just like his father to be so blunt. But he had to take it on the chin. It was true in many ways. As much as everyone had been hoping she was still alive, deep down they probably thought she had left this world. Fell victim to foul play. For how does a well-to-do girl survive alone in the world with no money or support for more than six months?
“Thank the Lord she is alive,” said Silas slowly, “and she has been returned to the bosom of her family.”
“Thank the Lord, indeed,” said his mother, but her eyes were cold.
Mr. Wilmington sighed. “Yes, yes, it is good that she is alive and well,” he said, picking up his fork, and stabbing a roast potato. “But we have entered grey territory, with the sudden arrival of Miss St. George. Murky territory.”
“What do you mean?” Silas stared at his father.
“It complicates things,” he replied, in a dark voice. “Technically, Miss St. George has been alive this entire time, and is still your fiancée. The oath of betrothment is still very much real. And yet, you are betrothed to Miss Sinclair as well. You are engaged to two ladies at the same time, Silas.”
Silas felt suddenly nauseous, pushing his plate away. “There was no deception. I entered into the betrothal with Alice on good faith, assuming that Marina was deceased, or never to return.”
“I know that,” rapped his father. “And if I had my way, I would never see the returned young lady again. Trouble, that is all she has been, since day one, in my books.” He picked up his wine glass. “Her story is as weak as water, and very convenient, for it means that she does not need to explain anything of where she has been, or how she came to leave her good home. But be that as it may, there are still obligations. Legal obligations, as well as the protection of our family reputation.”
Silas put his head in his hands. He didn’t want to hear any of this. It was making his stomach churn violently.
He was engaged to two women at the same time. The thought had never even entered his head, until his father had laid it on the table. It did cause a problem, for which engagement was he to honour? Did his first take precedence, or his second?
A cold sweat broke out over his body. If this had happened a month ago, he knew what he would have wanted. He had only entered into the engagement with Alice out of duty, and a vague desire to move on with his life. When he had first become engaged to Alice, he knew that his heart had still belonged to Marina.
But all of that had changed in the most bewildering, enchanting of ways. He had fallen in love with Alice, almost against his will, fighting it with every breath in his body. But it had been too strong in the end. She was his love now, and he wanted to make her his wife. He had been dreaming of it.
“What am I to do?” he moaned.
“What do you want to do?” barked his father, staring at him intently. “I would advise to try to get out of the engagement with Miss St. George as honourably as possible, by speaking with her, and getting her to accept it. A mutual thing.” He paused. “That is if you want to continue the engagement with Miss Sinclair. I would strongly advise that you should do so, Silas. Miss Sinclair would make you the better wife.”
“I must admit, I agree,” said his mother, in a faint voice. “Of course I am glad that Miss St. George is restored to her family, but Miss Sinclair is far superior to her, in my opinion. She has a lovely temperament.” She hesitated. “I was very much looking forward to her becoming my daughter-in-law.”
Silas’s heart twisted. It seemed that Alice had won over his parents as much as she had won over him.
“I do want to continue my engagement with Alice,” he said slowly. “I have grown to love her. The thought of hurting her is abhorrent to me.” He paused. “But Marina must have been through a lot, more than we can even imagine, and I do not wish to hurt her either…”
“Here is what I propose,” said his father, looking pleased. “First thing in the morning, we shall pay a call on the St. Georges, where you can speak to Miss St. George alone. While doing so, tell her plainly that you have become engaged to another, and do not wish to break it. Ask her if she will willingly end the engagement between you, that it can be a mutual decision. If you handle her correctly, I am sure she will comply.”
“She should comply,” said his mother, looking severe. “What woman expects that she can disappear, leave her betrothed for seven months, and that he not move on? She must be expecting it, in her heart of hearts.”
Silas picked up his wine glass. He wasn’t surprised to find his hand was shaking.
A part of him couldn’t believe that they were sitting around this dinner table calmly talking about how he could extract himself from his engagement to Marina, who was suddenly very much alive. It seemed so cold and calculated. And yet, he couldn’t help feeling relief soak through his skin.
But even that tormented him. Guilt – his constant companion – had returned. Marina had just returned from the dead, with no memory of what had occurred to her. She would still be thinking that he was here, faithfully waiting for her. That he was still her fiancé, and that they could perhaps pick up exactly where they had left off. She would have no idea that his life had changed so very much in the seven months that she had been gone.
But then, as his mother had said, she must expect that he had moved on in that time. Once he spoke to her and explained that he had mourned her for such a long time before going into a new engagement, then she would understand, surely? She would release him from his obligation to her, and life could continue exactly as it had been. He could continue his engagement with Alice, and eventually, they would marry.
Silas took a deep sip of his wine. If only life were that simple. But he knew it was far more complicated than that.
Because there was also the matter of how he would feel when he saw her again for the very first time.
He had worked hard to heal, to honour their love, but to place it in a safe place so that he could love again. But how could he predict what it would be like to gaze on her lovely face again? Her beloved face? The face of the woman that he had been confident was to become his life companion. He simply did not know. And that was what scared him.
He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to hurt Alice, either. He felt like he was
being led into a room, blindfolded, with no understanding of where anything was, but trying to avoid colliding with anything. Inevitably, it was going to happen, whatever he did. He knew he couldn’t avoid it, as much as he wanted to.
“Silas?” said his father, staring at him. “Do you agree to the visit, first thing in the morning?”
Silas took another deep sip of his wine, before placing the glass carefully on the table.
“I agree,” he said slowly. “It must be done, and so it shall be.”
***
Later that night, in the privacy of his room, he took out the oval portrait of Marina again, staring down at it for a long, long time.
He hadn’t looked at it since the first day of the house party at Hill Lodge. That day, he had wandered the garden, feeling a little bereft, even though he was eagerly looking forward to spending time with Alice. He had sat on a bench, studying it for a long time.
Eventually, something had shifted in his mind, and without thought, he had put it back in his pocket. Once inside, in his guest chambers, he had placed it at the bottom of his luggage. Somehow, he had felt as if he was truly saying goodbye to her in that moment. That the shift he had felt in the garden was the bridge, from Marina to Alice.
Now, it lay heavily in his hand, like a dull weight. She stared out at him with those impossibly violet eyes, almost accusingly. As if she were angry with him, and betrayed.
How could you have forsaken me?
It was her voice, almost whispering in the room. The voice of a woman who had been done wrong. The voice of a woman who expected that her fiancé would love her forever, that he would wait for her forever.
I was always coming back to you.
He shifted uneasily in his chair. It was impossible, of course. The voice was a figment of his own over-fertile imagination. But it was as if she was indeed in the room with him, rather than in her own, only five short streets away.
His eyes raked the portrait again, taking in her glorious golden hair, those eyes, her perfect complexion. Would she be changed in the seven months since he had last seen her? Would she be the same woman, or someone else entirely?
What had happened to her?
Abruptly he put the portrait away, his heart pounding. Now it felt like an act of betrayal to Alice even glancing at it. Beautiful Alice, who shivered with desire when he touched her, and loved him as much as he loved her.
Eventually, he climbed into bed, blowing out the candle. But sleep eluded him, as he knew it would. All he could think about was the impending visit to see Marina, first thing in the morning. What it was going to be like to gaze upon her and speak to her. Would it be like speaking to a stranger?
Only a short month ago, the thought would never have crossed his mind. But a lot had happened in that month. And now he was being forced to build another bridge, one that he had no confidence would hold any of them upright from the mighty storm that was surely about to be unleashed.
Chapter 16
Silas and his father stepped out of the carriage, both gazing up at the honey-coloured two-storey sandstone townhouse. Silas’s heart was almost jumping in his chest, as if it was about to leap out entirely. His mouth was dry.
The St. George family home. A house that he had come to know well. He had proposed to Marina inside these very walls. He had attended countless dinner parties, and once, a large soiree. And now, it was as if he was gazing on the relic of a previous life. It had been months since he had last been here.
He had visited frequently in the aftermath of her disappearance sometimes with his mother or father, sometimes alone. In those early days, there had still been hope, and Mr. and Mrs. St. George had needed comfort, as had he. But as the days had turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, it had seemed pointless.
“Now,” said his father, straightening his jacket. “Remember your plan of attack. I shall talk to Mr. St. George in his study, nutting out the technical ways to dissolve the engagement, while you break the news as diplomatically as possible to the lady herself. It must be a mutual decision, Silas. There cannot be a whisper that you have dumped her, a few days after her miraculous return. Good society would not look kindly on that at all.”
Silas nodded, hating himself for it. It sounded so cold-blooded on his father’s lips. And yet, he knew it was what he desired, and so he had to follow through with it. For once, he was glad that his father was as calculating and passionless as he was. It came in good stead in this circumstance.
“Let us proceed, then,” said his father sharply.
Without further ado, they climbed the steps to the front door. A front door that he had waited outside many times in the past. It had seemed like the gateway to heaven in those times. Now, it seemed foreboding, like the doorway to his very doom.
His father rapped on the door. There was the sound of approaching footsteps along the floor inside.
He took a deep breath as the door swung open, and they were admitted.
***
Silas leant against the mantelpiece in the parlour, where he had been shown, after requesting an audience with Marina. His father was in Mr. St. George’s study already. The slow ticking of a mahogany clock on the mantelpiece was the only sound in the room, apart from the rapid beating of his heart as he waited for her.
Where was she?
Ten minutes had already passed. He felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead, and rivulets trickle down his neck, despite the coldness of the room.
Suddenly, the door swung open. And – just like that – she was standing there, gazing at him.
He gasped, almost swaying on his feet. How he had longed for this moment, and now, here it was. She was flesh and blood. A real, live woman.
His eyes trailed over her. She was as beautiful as ever, but thinner. He saw the sharpness of her cheekbones, and the way her collarbones jutted slightly. And she was very pale, no hint of the former rosiness in her cheeks. She was wearing a simple white morning gown, as severe as a nun, with her golden hair swept back off her face into a high bun.
She smiled tremulously. “Silas. Oh, Silas.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It is so good to see you again…”
He stepped forward, towards her, so that they were close, gazing at her. The woman who had haunted him, night and day, for so long. He had forgotten how tall she was. It was a slight shock after being with the petite Alice. She gazed at him, fixing him with those violet eyes, surrounded by long, golden brown lashes. He could not deny those eyes hit him straight in the solar plexus, like a blow.
“Marina,” he said, his voice sounding faraway, even to his own ears. “I cannot believe that you are back. That you are safe.” He reached out, taking her hand. “It is impossible to put into words how happy I am that you are alive and well.”
She laughed brokenly. “It is rather as if I have awoken from a strange dream,” she said in a slow, thoughtful voice. “Everyone keeps telling me that I have been gone for so long, but how can it be?”
“Shall we sit down?” he said, leading her to the settee. “We can have some tea, and you can tell me all about it.”
They sat down, and he poured two cups. For a moment, they simply sipped their tea. He waited patiently, not pushing her. Eventually, she sighed deeply, turning to him.
“I remember stumbling in the dark,” she said in a small voice. “Walking through streets. Each one became more familiar than the last.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I had no purpose in my mind, but my feet seemed to know where they were leading me. Eventually, I arrived on this street, standing outside the house. I knew it was my own.”
He nodded encouragingly.