Unrequited Love

“You suppose so? Lord Carson is the most eligible bachelor in the county. He is wealthy and has a title. I hear he has connections in the Royal Court.”

“You mustn’t believe everything you hear, mother,” Sian chided. “Why does his connections have anything to do with him? I mean, he might be an ogre at home. How do you know he doesn’t suffer from stinky feet or something?”

Rather than dismiss her and walk away in a huff like Sian wanted her to do, Mabel studied Ryan even more closely.

“Does he look like he has smelly feet to you?” she mused. “Besides, when you have someone as handsome as he is in your home, does it matter?”

“It would if you had to live with him,” Sian replied with an inelegant sn

ort.

“Who said anything about living with him?”

Sian groaned when her mother’s eyes lit with glee.

“I say, Sian. Are you considering Ryan Terrell as a suitor?”

Sian snorted quite inelegantly again. “He wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Do you not think he is handsome, though?”

“I suppose, if you like the dark and brooding type,” Sian replied, putting all her effort into sounding as bored as it was humanly possible to be.

Every fibre of Sian’s being was locked on Ryan, who stood bathed in summer sunshine like some bronzed god. Ryan was tall, broad shouldered, with dark brown hair which, when bathed in sunlight as he was looked to have faint flecks of red streaking through it. Startlingly, his piercing dark blue eyes were locked on them. Unless she was grossly mistaken, he appeared to be scrutinising them as much as they were studying him.

“We are staring,” Mabel whispered, without taking her gaze off him. “He is going to think we are awfully rude.”

“You are awfully rude,” Sian corrected, forcing herself to study the flowers beside the door.

“Do you not like him, though?”

“I shouldn’t know,” Sian sniffed with acute disinterest. “He hates me.”

“Oh, don’t be a goose. That man couldn’t hate anybody. Why, he was polite and said ‘hello’ to you just now, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but only because you were all here. Whenever we cross paths in the village, which isn’t very often thank the Lord, he is always cold and aloof. He behaves like he has smelt something he finds offensive and is eager to get away from,” Sian sighed.

While she spoke, she made her way over to the coat hooks hanging beside the door and removed her bonnet. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that it took her a moment to realise that a shadow had fallen over the hallway. With her mouth open to remind her mother that Ryan only visited the house to talk business with their father, she realised that the object of the discussion was now listening to what was being said.

“Ah, hello again. I should be delighted if you have returned to give us the wonderful news that you have changed your mind and will dine with us?” Mabel gushed; her cheeks florid with the force of her discomfort.

“No,” Ryan bit out. “I have alternative plans. But thank you.”

Sian struggled to keep her gaze locked on the floor, but some inner streak of defiance forced her to look up. The moment their gazes clashed she knew, deep in her heart, that he had somehow heard every word she had said about him and was angry. The steady tick of a muscle in his jaw warned her that he was doing his best to withhold his fury, but only just.

Defiantly, Sian tipped her chin up and refused to offer any word of apology.

“I have left my riding gloves in the study,” Ryan informed them.

“Oh, are they in here?” Mabel disappeared into her husband’s study and returned momentarily with said gloves, which she duly handed over. As she did so, she threw Sian a dark look that warned her to mind her manners.

Sian barely noticed. She was absorbed by the hurt that bloomed with the knowledge she had just made Ryan Terrell hate her a little bit more. Why he seemed determined to dislike her in the first place was beyond her. She had always been polite with him, whereas he had always been stand-offish, distant, and more than a little contemptuous.

Sian was aware of the wild hammering of her heart which increased its heavy pounding when Ryan stalked toward Mabel and retrieved his gloves. As he passed back, their gazes clashed once more. There was a hidden message in the look he gave her, but she couldn’t hazard a guess as to what it was. Was it a warning?

I don’t think I am ever going to know.

Sian suspected that after today, Ryan was even more likely to avoid her whenever their lives brought them together. Consequently, she memorised everything she could about him while he was there, not least because she suspected it was going to be a long time yet before she saw him again. The sense of discomfort she felt when a heavy silence settled in his wake was something that left Sian battling a melancholy that was so strong, she suspected it was going to take some eradicating.