Unrequited Love

“Yes, Ryan and I have just finished,” Arthur announced to his wife and daughters with a somewhat officious arrogance.

Sian’s stomach flipped when she heard Ryan’s name. She worked hard to keep her face impassive, so she didn’t reveal her true feelings. It was difficult to know how to express how she felt anyway. It was always the same whenever Ryan called at the house. She was plunged into a confusing mix of emotions that left her feeling panicked, shaken, nervous, anxious and wildly thrilled all at the same time. She was delighted yet dreaded having to face him. It was foolish to get in such a state because he hadn’t come to see her at all.

He doesn’t even know I am alive.

“Careful, the cad is about,” Martha muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

Sian elbowed her roughly in the ribs and threw her a warning look.

“What was that, Martha. Eh? Out with it,” their father boomed.

“Nothing, Papa,” Martha replied, her voice a high-pitched, somewhat shrill, taunt. It was tinged with enough defiance to make their father squint suspiciously at her, but the presence of their guest stopped him from taking Martha to task over her conduct.

Arthur stepped out of his office to allow his guest to leave. Sian dutifully dipped into a curtsey when Ryan appeared in the doorway. She looked up in time to watch Ryan snap a brisk bow in their direction. His gaze lingered on the floor for an inordinate amount of time, to the point that Sian and Martha exchanged a somewhat amused look. All trace of amusement died instantly when Ryan then looked up, straight into Sian’s eyes.

Sian gasped. She warned herself that it was rude to stare but was caught in the lure of his dark blue eyes and couldn’t break free. There was something hidden in the depths of his intense stare, but she wasn’t at all sure what it was. Sian instantly began to feel nervous although had no idea why. Ryan’s stare was steady, probing, and far too intent for it to be dismissed. While a part of her was wildly thrilled at the strange sensations he brought forth within her, she was also quietly horrified. It seemed as if he was waiting for something, but Sian had already curtseyed.

Sian allowed her gaze to slide to the floor, especially when she felt a tell-tale shimmer of warmth begin to bloom in her cheeks. Instinctively, though, she looked back up at him. Their eyes met once more. In that moment, Sian began to see a different Ryan to the one who had always visited the house in the past. For the first time since she had met him in her father’s study several years ago now, Sian suspected that Ryan was really something of a predator. There was an intensity in his gaze that made her want to squirm with discomfort. For the first time ever, she felt rather on edge around him, wary.

Hunted.

“Allow me to walk you to your horse,” her father suggested when he became aware of the rather uncomfortable atmosphere that had started to lengthen.

Ryan sucked in a breath and realised then that he had been staring at Sian for far too long. He cursed when he saw her mother’s gaze slid calculatingly from him to Sian and then back again. When Mabel realised that she had drawn his attention, she threw him a false smile which in no way met her gaze.

“Of course, you are w

elcome to dine with us, if you would like?” she offered with a ready smile.

While he wanted to accept, Ryan knew it would be foolish to. Yes, he wanted to spend some time with Sian, but not with her family around, not least because those clawed hands in his dreams still haunted him. If her family objected to their union, they might do everything possible to thwart any romantic connection between him and Sian. Despite their long acquaintance, Ryan still wasn’t at all sure how they would accept the possibility of having him as a son-in-law. Until he could find out whether Sian could feel something for him, Ryan had no intention of even hinting that he might be romantically interested in Mabel and Arthur’s daughter.

“That is very kind, but I have business to attend to,” he announced with another formal bow. “Good day.”

Without even looking at the women again, Ryan stalked out of the hallway. He was aware of the faint atmosphere he charged through that had undoubtedly been caused by his rather brisk behaviour. It made his situation considerably worse than he had ever expected or planned for it to be. The last thing he wanted to do was put the women on edge around him, especially now. He should be doing exactly the opposite if he had any hope of being able to persuade Sian to take a walk with him, but it was too late now.

“Damn,” Ryan growled.

“What was that?”

Ryan paused beside his horse and turned to face the man he knew his father was worried about.

“I am going to have to think over the options,” Ryan offered. “I am afraid father won’t be back at his house for another few weeks yet.”

“I take it he isn’t returning to the main house then?”

“No. He has decided to move into the Dowager’s house. Now that his hip is starting to give him problems, he struggles climbing the main flight of stairs. The stairs in the Dowager’s house aren’t as steep and there aren’t that many. Besides, I think he quite likes the cosier atmosphere in the smaller property,” Ryan explained.

Arthur nodded but looked almost fearful when their gazes met. “Any assistance you might be able to offer would be greatly appreciated.”

While he spoke, Ryan became aware of movement in the doorway behind Arthur. He looked up only to find Sian looking out at him. His gaze lingered on the delectable vision that she made as she stood within the shadows of the entrance hall. Ryan knew she felt obliged to keep the door open because it was rude to close the front door while he was still standing in the driveway. Thankfully, it afforded him a view of the woman who had the ability to plague his thoughts and his dreams. Unfortunately, what he saw did little to dispel them.

When he realised Ryan was staring at something in the house, Arthur looked back and saw Sian.

“They don’t know,” Arthur whispered.

“Best keep it that way,” Ryan suggested.

Arthur stared blankly down the driveway. “I have suggested to Mabel that we need to marry them off. She thinks that Lucinda is too young, but she will be seventeen next year. A few months is hardly going to make all that much difference, is it? If we can find her a suitable suitor, I am sure a few months won’t matter to her future husband either. I know a few bachelors, but they are not really eligible, if you know what I mean?”