Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon (15 page)

None of it made any sense,
least of all the strange urge he’d felt to kiss her at the very
moment she was suggesting he was handling Morgan improperly. She’d
stared up at him with the same flash of brilliance in her eyes as
she’d had when she defended Morgan at supper the first night of the
house party, and he’d been taken aback by her gumption.
Nevertheless, how would
she
possibly know what was best for his sister? She
was hardly more than a mere slip of a girl, a lady who spent more
time in the fictional world of her books than she did in the real
world around her. What could she know about how best to aid Morgan
and to help ease her back into society? What could she know of his
sister’s needs?

What Morgan needed was her
family around her. She needed to know they loved her. She needed
guidance and assistance as she learned to live life again without
the use of her sight. She needed people to protect her from all the
cruelty that could and would be heaped upon her by the heartless
world of the
ton
—those who would see her scarred skin and blind eyes, and
choose to mock her for them.

Anyone could see that was what he was
trying desperately to give her. Anyone could see he only wanted
what was best for her. It irked him to no end to have Miss
Hathaway, of all people, try to tell him he was doing his sister a
disservice by assisting her in every single way he
could.

Hardly more than two minutes had
passed since he’d closed the door and flopped down in an elegant
silk brocade armchair before the door opened. Aidan scowled as he
looked up, and his scowl only intensified when he saw his brother
standing in the doorway.

“
I thought that was you I
saw skulking through the house and coming in here,” Niall said. He
pulled the door shut behind him and then moved through the room,
taking up the matching armchair across from Aidan. “Why did Miss
Hathaway return alone?”

That question was absolutely and
unequivocally the wrong question for Niall to ask at the moment,
though he couldn’t possibly have known such a thing.

Aidan felt his lips twist against his
will. He shook his head, as though the slight action could perhaps
clear the ugly thoughts chasing through his mind. “She wished to
return,” he muttered. “I couldn’t very well leave Morgan alone with
Deering in the woods, could I?”

“
But it was acceptable for
you to allow Miss Hathaway to find her way back all by
herself?”

Aidan lifted a brow, which earned him
a scowl from his brother.

“
Burington is rather
displeased with you, and I can’t say I blame him for it. You seem
to have forgotten how to act like a gentleman in the last several
years. Lord knows it would have to be an act…”

That stung, coming from his brother.
He winced. “What would you have me do?” Aidan asked. He couldn’t
very well act on his own impulses, lest he end up kissing the chit.
Yet another thing that would cast him in the light of a
villain.

Niall crossed an ankle over his knee
and relaxed a bit. Apparently, he had no intention of leaving Aidan
in peace any time in the near future. “Perhaps you could start by
apologizing to Miss Hathaway.”

Apologizing to her? The
deuced chit had been the one who’d forced him to choose between
protecting her and protecting his sister! He’d been placed in a
position where he couldn’t possibly make the right decision—there’d
been no
right
decision available to him, save tossing Miss Hathaway over his
shoulder and dragging her along with them. Which, now that he
thought about it, held rather more appeal than he’d care to
admit.

But no, if either of them ought to be
apologizing for the situation, it was her. He started to tell his
brother precisely that, but Niall cut him off.

“
I don’t want to hear any
excuses, Aidan. You’re the gentleman. You’ve got to make her see
reason if she places you in an awkward position.” He stood,
straightening his coat, which had only been mussed slightly all
morning. “Just imagine if it had been Morgan with some other chap,
and he’d allowed her to walk off alone.”

“
No one would do that,”
Aidan bit off. She was blind, for God’s sake. He couldn’t imagine
anyone who’d allow her to separate herself from the group in the
midst of a strange wood.

Niall held up a hand. “But what if
someone would? Miss Hathaway doesn’t have two older brothers with
her, protecting her at every turn, you know. Burington is looking
after her, but it’s hardly the same.” He headed for the door, but
stopped just before going through. “You owe it to Morgan to look
after her friend, if nothing else,” he said quietly, without
turning his head.

Then he left, pulling the door shut
behind him.

You owe it to
Morgan
… Niall’s words hung heavy in the
room, repeating in Aidan’s head over and over again, as though they
were bouncing off the walls of his mind and creating an
echo.

He owed Morgan more than he could ever
give her. But this might be asking too much.

Emma sat on a sofa with Serena and
Morgan on either side. Sir Henry stood beside them, his hands
clasped behind his back and a kind smile tugging at the corners of
his lips. Emma studied him, trying to catalogue each of his
features and attributes and reason out why he would make an
excellent match for her.

Sir Henry was adequately handsome,
though she was almost as tall as he was. Not that that should
hinder her affections toward him. She couldn’t allow something so
petty as physical appearance to cloud her judgment.

He was a good man. Thoughtful.
Affable. Congenial. And, perhaps more importantly than any of his
other attributes, he seemed interested in her. That alone ought to
be enough for Emma to set her sights upon him.

Not to fall in love with him—but she
had no intentions of falling in love with any man until she was
well and truly married to him. Morgan’s heartache a few years ago
was more than enough warning for Emma to decide she’d never allow
any man such power over her own feelings, at least not until he was
irrevocably the only man for whom she ought to have such
feelings.

Yet she couldn’t help but think of Mr.
Cardiff again, and the tiny flutters he seemed to always engender
in her stomach, and the way he made her heart race at the most
inopportune moments. Those were precisely the sorts of reactions
she ought to be avoiding with any gentleman.

Thankfully, Sir Henry did not inspire
any such flutters. The way he was smiling down at her at the moment
made her think he might wish he did.

“
If you truly want a dog as
a pet, Miss Hathaway, allow me to train a pup for you,” he said,
laughing.

She smiled up at him then. “A pup?” He
wanted to train a pup for her. How utterly charming, despite the
fact that she hadn’t truly considered having a dog for a pet. Yes,
Kingley had chosen to follow her around quite a bit, but that
didn’t mean she wanted a pet. Did she? “And where might we find
this pup?”

“
I breed hounds, you know,”
he continued as Mr. Deering and Lord Muldaire made their way over
to join them. Deering clapped a hand on his shoulder, which caused
Sir Henry to jump slightly. He recovered himself quickly. “For that
matter, one of my bitches delivered a new litter a few weeks ago.
You could come to Seton Court later this summer and make your
choice, and then before the next Season I could have it trained and
ready to go home with you.”

Morgan gasped at her side, but tried
to cover it by coughing delicately into her hand. Serena hurried to
pick up a cup of tea and hand it to Morgan, her surprised eyes
locking onto Emma in the process.

He was inviting her to his home.
Goodness, she hadn’t expected that. Not by any stretch of the
imagination. Wasn’t that a bit forward?

“
Of course, that would all
depend upon Lord and Lady Burington accompanying you,” he added
after a moment’s hesitation. Sir Henry looked a bit flustered,
shifting from one foot to the other. “I wouldn’t—”

“
He’s good with them,” Lord
Muldaire put in, interrupting before Sir Henry could make a total
cake of himself. He took a seat in the armchair directly across
from them and set his glass of port down on the mahogany occasional
table beside him. “I bought a pair from him a couple of years ago.
Never had a problem with either one.”

Bought
. Well, that settled that, then. Emma hadn’t even the
slightest inkling what Sir Henry might charge for the puppies he
bred, particularly those he trained before selling, but her pin
money would never allow for such an extravagance. Particularly not
when she wasn’t even entirely certain she wanted a dog.

Emma started to say that very thing,
but Serena spoke before she could. “Might I join Miss Hathaway as
well? I’m sure Father wouldn’t mind us making another trip this
summer. He’ll have to return to his business at some point,
but…”

“
Of course,” Sir Henry
said, altogether too happily. “The more the merrier.”

Lord Muldaire chuckled. “Sounds like
you could have a house party of your own forming, if you’re not
careful, and all over a pack of puppies.” He took a swallow of his
port, and then gave a pointed look in Serena’s direction. “I might
wish to join Miss Weston as well. Perhaps I might choose another to
take home. They are good dogs.”

Serena flushed and sat back against
the sofa, as though she were trying to disappear into the
background. Surely having the notice of Lord Muldaire would be a
good thing. Why was she not delighted by the prospect?

When Emma raised her eyebrows in
question, Serena gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
She’d have to ask about it later.

“
Do you only train dogs
when they’re puppies,” Morgan asked, “or have you ever trained an
older dog, Sir Henry?”

He moved over to take up the seat
nearest Morgan, other than the empty seat beside her on the sofa,
and leaned forward so as to give her his full attention. “It is
much easier to train them from a young age, my lady, but I have
taken on a few older dogs as well.”

“
And you’ve been
successful?”

Mr. Deering let out a bark of a laugh.
“He’s the absolute best in all of England. I’ve tried my hand at
training a few dogs before, but he puts me to shame.”

“
I can’t imagine you get
much practice, what with all the time you spend reading your law
books,” Sir Henry responded.

Lord Jacob came over and, without even
introducing himself into the conversation, plopped down next to
Morgan on the sofa with a scowl. “He’s a far better barrister than
he is a dog trainer. He should remember where his skills truly
lie.” Every word from his mouth came out as a grumble.

Clearly, his surly mood had not
improved in the slightest from that morning.

The lighthearted air that had been
amongst them seemed to evaporate into the ether just from his
joining their grouping.

Mr. Deering just inclined his head in
his cousin’s direction and gave a slight smile.
“Indeed.”

A racket sounded, wood clopping
against wood, across the room near the hearth. Emma jumped with a
start. Her head shot up, and her eyes met with Mr. Cardiff’s. He
righted the chair he’d knocked over somehow and then took a
seat.

The rest of the group surrounding her
resumed their previous conversation about training dogs and the
life of a barrister, but Emma could no longer concentrate on their
discussion. Her thoughts were too distracted by the crawling
sensation creeping over her skin and the odd fluttering in her
belly caused by the way Mr. Cardiff watched her.

And watch her he did. His eyes never
left her person; they roved over her in a decidedly improper and
disconcerting manner that caused her skin to flush all over her
entire body. Where was her fan when she needed it?

If she didn’t know better, she’d think
him interested. But that couldn’t be.

The only interest Mr. Cardiff had in
her was to never see her again.