Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(93)

She watched as Mary Darling played with a stack of wooden bricks that the housekeeper had found for her. The sight should’ve brought Silence joy: a happy, healthy baby innocently playing. But nothing seemed to bring her joy anymore. Silence sighed, propping her chin in her hand. What was the matter with her? She’d lived well enough, contentedly enough, before Michael. Could she not do so again?

A maid entered the sitting room. “Would you like some tea, ma’am?”

Silence pasted on a smile. “Tea would be lovely. And could you make a pot for Mr. Harry and Mr. Bert, too, please?”

The little maid blushed and rolled her eyes. “They’ve already had two pots of tea this morning. Cook is spoiling them something awful.”

One corner of Silence’s mouth curled up at the thought of Harry and Bert wheedling treats from the female servants in the kitchen. Both Harry and Bert guarded her now, as well as a half dozen of Michael’s crew. The men had simply appeared the morning after Silence had knocked on the door of Temperance’s London home. She was lucky, since neither Caire nor Temperance were in residence, that the housekeeper knew her by sight.

Silence twitched at a thread on her old brown dress. Apparently Michael had moved quickly to safeguard her and Mary Darling when he found them gone. Silence was grateful, if a little guilty, to have the guards. She could just see one of Michael’s pirates lounging outside the sitting room as the door swung closed behind the maid.

Harry had given Silence strict orders to stay inside Caire House until Michael dealt with the Vicar. Such a restriction might’ve made her restless in the past, but no longer. She couldn’t seem to find the enthusiasm to do much of anything.

There was a commotion from the front hallway and Mary Darling looked up.

Temperance swept into the sitting room a moment later. “Goodness! Where did all these brutish men come from?”

“They’re guards.” Silence wrinkled her nose apologetically. “Michael insisted on them.”

“Well, I should hope so!” Temperance crossed to Silence and gave her a hug before pulling back and looking in her face. “How are you, dear?”

Silence bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Fine. I’m sorry to have taken over your home.”

“Don’t be silly,” Temperance said.

The maid returned with a tray of tea and Temperance waved for her to put it on a low table in front of the settee.

“Thank you, Perkins,” Temperance said as she sat on the settee beside Silence. She waited for the maid to leave before turning to her sister. “I take it that you’re not safe yet.”

Silence grimaced. “No. Not while the Vicar is still alive.”

“Which brings me to the subject of how you left Caire’s country estate,” Temperance said.

Silence winced. “I’m sorry.”

“We spent hours searching for you and Mary Darling,” Temperance said in a much too calm voice as she poured the tea. “It wasn’t until one of the maids confessed that she’d glanced out a window and saw you walking away with a ‘tall, handsome as sin man,’ that we realized what had happened. I was all for traveling at once to London, but Caire persuaded me to wait a bit.” Temperance gave her a jaundiced look. “I think he rather feared what I might do to you.”

“I never meant to make you worry so,” Silence said in a rush. “I did leave you a note.”

“Not a very helpful one,” Temperance said darkly.

“It’s just that he asked me to come with him—”

“And so you did.” Temperance sighed and sat back with her dish of tea. “Without a thought for us.”

“I’m afraid so,” Silence said in a small voice.

Temperance took a sip. “He’s bad, you know that, and yet you went off with him without a backward glance.”

Silence took her cup of tea and held it near her face without drinking. She inhaled the fragrant steam. “I’ve left him.”

Temperance set down her cup. “Have you?”

Silence only nodded.

Temperance eyed her. “Well… I suppose that’s good.”

Silence closed her eyes.

“Isn’t it?” Temperance asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you leave him exactly?”

Silence shook her head, staring at her steaming cup of tea, trying to put into words the decision that had seemed so cut and dried a week ago. “He won’t quit his pirating, even though he has enough money, from what I can see, to live happily the rest of his life.”

“You asked him to quit?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Temperance picked up her teacup again, murmuring over its rim, “that by itself would be enough for me to leave him.”

“Would it?” Silence traced the edge of her teacup, considering. “I think it would’ve been enough for me as well—before I went to live with him.”

“But now?”

“Now…” Silence leaned forward, looking at her sister intently, trying to convey what was in her heart. “He’s no longer just a pirate to me. He’s Charming Mickey O’Connor, notorious river pirate, but he’s also Michael, a man who loves butterflies. Who told me about the worst parts of his childhood. Who took me to the opera and sat as if entranced by the music. Who sings to his daughter. Don’t you see? I might be fascinated by Charming Mickey, but I could never love him. Michael I can—I do—love.”