Page 7 of A Viscount's Bet of Seduction

Chapter 4

Silas and Michael had gone into town and were just returning. They both climbed out of the carriage, their boots crunching in the gravel of the drive.

“I presume that the blackberries are ripe for the picking?” Michael asked.

“Yes. Father and I checked just this morning,” Silas replied. “We can have baskets for all of the guests, and then we’ll have them sent to the kitchen so Mrs. Larson can fix us blackberry compote for dessert.”

They had discussed plans for the party on their ride. Silas was beginning to grow weary of it.

“You know,” Michael mused. “This weekend might not only prove profitable for Dinah.”

“What do you mean?” Silas glanced at his brother as they walked to the front door of Thornbridge Manor.

“It could provide you with the opportunity to find a wife, as well,” Michael said.

“I have no interest in marriage,” Silas reminded him. “I am rather enjoying my bachelorhood.” At thirty years old, he had thought that everyone had given up on his marrying. After all, Michael would be a fine future viscount.

“You’re the eldest son and heir of a viscount,” Michael pointed out. “It’s your job to ensure there’s an heir to follow you.”

Silas grimaced at his brother. Michael just had to remind him. He wished he could just let the estate go to the children of one of his siblings. It would solve the matter of Silas having to wed at all.

When he glanced away from Michael, he spotted Dinah standing in the gardens with a young woman whom he had never seen before. Dinah raised her hand and waved, and he returned the gesture. He briefly thought how pretty the woman looked before he followed Michael through the front door.

The two brothers went up to the study, where they found their father having a glass of brandy. He smiled at them, settling even further back into his chair, so that the leather creaked.

“How goes it?” he asked them. “Guests have begun to arrive. Your mother’s dearest friend and her niece have gotten here.”

“All is well,” Michael said, pouring himself a glass. “I was just telling Silas that this weekend might produce him a bride, as well.”

“And I was reminding Michael that I have no plans to marry as of yet.” Silas glared at his brother, who said nothing but handed him a glass of brandy.

“You’re thirty, Silas,” his father said. “You are my eldest son and heir to the viscountcy. People are beginning to talk about how unsavoury it is that you aren’t married, nor have any interest in finding a wife.”

Silas sighed, looking out the window. The sun gleamed on the surface of the lake, turning it silver. “This is indeed true.” He had heard the whispers, himself.

Why marry, though, when being a bachelor is such fun?

“I have a good deal to leave my sons when I pass,” his father said. “I should like to think that you are all sharing the wealth with a family and creating heirs who will carry on our legacy.”

“Michael is doing an excellent job of it,” Silas pointed out. His brother was engaged to be married. Lady Arabella was a genteel sort of lady who would make an excellent viscountess. When Silas turned away from the window, his father was frowning at him.

“I expect you to marry,” he said flatly. “I suggest you start thinking about it seriously, and soon.”

Silas sighed in disappointment. He loved his father very much and hated to let him down. But he also loved his freedom. He didn’t want to be chained down—to put up with one lady who expected him to be faithful to her. Silas’s heart was a wild thing, one which loved capriciously. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, and he also didn’t want to feel trapped, himself.

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