Read Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon Online

Authors: Catherine Gayle

Tags: #Romance, #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #suicide, #tortured artist, #regency series, #blindness

Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon (26 page)

But the look in Niall’s eyes made it
perfectly clear what he wanted.

Blast, but that might only mean having
Miss Hathaway in his life more fully, since Morgan and Miss Weston
both seemed to be attached to her at the hip. His breath hitched at
the thought, damn it all.

Aidan pushed back from his chair,
walked to the sideboard, and refilled his drink. Confusion always
gave him a headache, and nothing could ease a headache quite like
spirits.

Emma had not played—or even thought
about—the game casino since Vanessa and David’s last house party
three years ago.

So often during that party, many of
the guests had sat around the dainty gaming tables in the drawing
room in groups of four, one pair playing against the other while
Emma and Morgan had sat off to the side. Despite the fact that
she’d often been fully absorbed in whatever book she’d been reading
at the time, Emma had always been very aware of the card players,
much as she’d been aware of everything Morgan had done. She’d just
found far more enjoyment within the pages of her books than she did
in the deck of cards. And if she sat with Morgan, then at least
Morgan wasn’t alone.

But, with the drawing room once again
filled with all two dozen houseguests, save Mr. Cardiff again, and
with Sir Henry and Serena waiting expectantly for her answer as to
whether she would join them for a game, her avoidance of it must
now come to a close. Much as her penchant for reading at every
opportunity had done already during the course of this
fortnight.

After all, she was here to catch a
husband, even if she was also helping Morgan when she could. How
could she possibly do that if she avoided all opportunities for
socializing? As it was, she had been busy with training Kingley
rather a lot of the time, and Sir Henry had been with them much of
that time as well—but after her lack of fluttering sensations while
in the baronet’s presence, Emma’s doubts about whether they would
suit had only intensified.

Had she been wrong in refusing to fall
in love with the man she would marry until such time as they were
married, believing it the only way to avoid a broken heart? It had
seemed the right course of action, considering Morgan’s lot, but
now every time Emma turned around, she felt less certain of herself
than before.

Whether she felt flutters around the
baronet or not, she could not afford to spurn any gentleman’s
attentions.

So she smiled for Sir Henry’s benefit.
“I’d be happy to be your partner for casino tonight.” True, that
would yet again put her alongside him…but at least she would be
involved in the goings-on. The others would see and take note of
her participation, which would prevent her being seen as sullen or
standoffish.

He looked relieved, as though he’d
doubted whether she would agree.

Serena let out a happy sound at Emma’s
side and clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Miss Hathaway, you
and Sir Henry can play against me and Lord Trenowyth.”

For a brief moment, Emma hesitated.
What would Morgan do all evening if both Emma and Serena were
otherwise occupied with a game she couldn’t play?

Morgan must have sensed her reticence.
“Oh, lovely.” She leaned forward and smiled. “You’ll both be
occupied. Miss Goderich wanted to try to teach me to play the
pianoforte like you suggested, Miss Hathaway, but I didn’t want to
agree unless you both had other plans.”

Lord Trenowyth came over to stand
beside Sir Henry, tugging lightly at the front of his coat. The
image took Emma’s thoughts straight to that night outside, when Mr.
Cardiff had kissed her and both of them had needed to repair their
appearances. She fought the urge to flush.

He cleared his throat. “The
pianoforte? You haven’t touched one in a very long time. I daresay
Mama gave up the thought of you taking after it again quite some
time ago.”


But Miss Hathaway was
right in suggesting it. Miss Goderich swears she can teach me to
play by touch. She says my fingers can learn where the keys are,
and there won’t be any reason I should avoid it.” Morgan tittered
lightly. “Well, aside from the fact that I can’t read the music.
But the
playing
part I can do.”

Emma had no doubts at all on that
score. She reached a hand across and took Morgan’s, then squeezed
lightly. “You certainly can. You’ll just have to learn your own
music.” Every day, it seemed there was something new Morgan learned
she could do.

Lord Trenowyth studied his sister for
a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”

Emma caught a look of
amazement upon his countenance, but there was also a hint of
pride—much like she’d seen in Mr. Cardiff’s eyes when Morgan
discovered his sculpting. She seemed to astonish her brothers at
every turn. It wouldn’t surprise
Emma
in the least if their moments of
awe continued to mount for years to come. Morgan was far more
capable than her family gave her credit for being. More capable
than Emma had given her credit for, as well. They’d all continued
to discount Morgan’s abilities.

Miss Goderich came to collect Morgan
and took her off to the corner of the drawing room where the
pianoforte awaited them. Emma and Serena rose and walked with Sir
Henry and Lord Trenowyth to a gaming table near the hearth to begin
their game of casino as the somewhat discordant sounds of the
instrument echoed throughout the room.

Lord Trenowyth picked up the cards and
dealt out their hands.

When the cards had been placed, Sir
Henry lifted his hand and studied it. “Lady Morgan and Kingley are
making excellent progress, my lord. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss
Hathaway?” He captured the queen of hearts.


I would.”

Serena played an eight, and then built
to eight with a five and three. “They seem as though they’ve been
working together for years, not days.”

While Emma set down a two, for lack of
anything better to play, Lord Trenowyth met Serena’s gaze. The look
which passed between them was heated enough to warm Emma through to
the bones. She flushed with embarrassment and glanced up at Sir
Henry, who merely passed her a congenial smile, much as he always
did. Should the same sort of heat be coming from the two of them?
Blast, but why did it all have to be so very complicated? The heat
seemed to go along with the flutters, and she felt neither in his
presence. The baronet smiled more deeply upon her examination in
what could only be considered a warm manner, but his warmth could
not possibly compare to that which was already surrounding them.
This heat, between Serena and Lord Trenowyth…it could only compare
to one thing in Emma’s memory, and that was the heat she’d felt
when Mr. Cardiff kissed her. How blasted infuriating.


I’m pleased to hear that,”
Lord Trenowyth said. He played a seven and built to nine with
Emma’s two. “How much more training will the dog
require?”


It’s not a matter of
Kingley requiring more training, at this point,” Sir Henry said.
“It’s more about having him and Lady Morgan practice together,
until everything they must do becomes innate.” He scowled at his
cards for a moment, then played a four.


And you’re certain that
Kingley will not harm my sister?”

The baronet shook his head. “Dogs are
very loyal creatures, quite protective. He’s already coming to
understand she is his responsibility.” He stopped as Serena played
a nine. “Not only will he not harm Lady Morgan, I would wager he
would do anything to be certain no harm comes to her.”

Lord Trenowyth nodded while Emma
studied her cards. It would help if she had actually paid attention
when the others played cards at gatherings, even if she didn’t join
them. But, instead of watching, she usually just knew that they
were playing something. Often, she wasn’t even cognizant of what
specific game they were indulging in.

At the moment, she honestly didn’t
know what move to make. Pursing her lips, she took out a jack and
laid it upon the table, looking up to see if Sir Henry reacted to
her choice at all.

He didn’t. Not that she could tell. He
still bore the same benign smile he so often did in her
presence.

They continued playing, and it soon
became apparent that Emma and Sir Henry would lose the hand in
rather dramatic fashion to Serena and Lord Trenowyth.


I must apologize, Sir
Henry,” Emma said after playing another seven, which Lord Trenowyth
then captured. “You couldn’t have possibly expected to be partnered
with someone so lacking in skill.”

A clatter sounded behind
her, and the foursome turned as one to see what had caused the
commotion. Mr. Cardiff had finally made his appearance, though at
least he’d taken the time to don clean clothing after a day spent
with his chisel. He stood just inside the doorway, yet again
setting a chair to rights after he’d knocked it over. Emma lifted a
brow. While it was true that she could be rather clumsy,
he
could hardly be
considered graceful. Good heavens, had a chair wronged him at some
point in his life? He seemed to have a great distaste for
them.

Lord Trenowyth sighed. “It seems I
must once again apologize for my brother.”


Not at all,” Serena
murmured.

Mr. Cardiff passed a sullen glare over
the room, his eyes resting on Emma far longer than was comfortable
before moving on to encompass the rest of the houseguests. The
drawing room once again resumed a polite din, of a similar strength
to before Mr. Cardiff’s entry, and Emma’s companions returned their
attention to their game of casino. She did not find it so easy to
redirect her thoughts.

Taking a wide berth around their
party, Mr. Cardiff ambled through the drawing room until he found
an empty chair next to the Bornholm clock against the far wall. He
sat down, picked up a book from the occasional table beside him,
and started to read. Rather contradictory of him, if anyone should
ask Emma, since he so readily took her to task for doing that very
thing. Or perhaps he was merely pretending to read. Every few
moments, his head would lift and his gaze would meet hers, and he
glared.

But, well, glare wasn’t quite the
correct term. Always before, when he would look upon her with such
depth of emotion, it was rage or anger she felt pouring from him in
waves. This was different. No less forceful, certainly,
but…different.

His eyes left her for a moment to
settle upon Sir Henry. Then his stare was most decidedly a glare,
which caused Emma’s chest to constrict. After a moment, he returned
his gaze to her, and she shuddered. Mr. Cardiff’s expression was so
heated she felt certain it would consume her, incinerate her, leave
her nothing more than a melted puddle on the floor.

The sudden need to swallow became
overwhelming. She tried frantically to catch her breath—which was
almost impossible, with the vise that had somehow crushed her ribs
moments ago—only to discover that she’d been holding it in. And
then she did experience the same sort of heat she’d felt coursing
between Lord Trenowyth and Serena earlier, but it was because of
Mr. Cardiff and not Sir Henry.

She tried to force the sensations at
bay, turning back to the card table. Her hands were shaking and
moist, and her cards felt as though they would slip free from her
grip at any moment. Impatiently, she set them down and pushed back
from the table so suddenly that her chair wobbled.


Emma, are you feeling
quite all right?” Serena asked. At once, she also rose and took
Emma’s hand.


I don’t—I need—” She
didn’t have the first inkling what she needed, only she was fairly
certain it
wasn’t
Sir Henry, or card playing, or even well-meaning friends. Good
heavens. “I think I should go lie down. I’m so very
sorry.”

She rushed from the drawing room and
out of the house to get some air, racing as though the hounds of
hell were upon her. For all she knew, Mr. Cardiff was one of them.
She didn’t slow until the footman closed the door behind her and
cool, evening air filled her lungs, and then she bent over at the
waist with both arms clutched over her stomach, trying to force her
reaction to the man to subside.

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