Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon (19 page)

Mr. Cardiff took three steps in the
direction of the main house, blessedly heading toward a different
door than Emma would use to return to the kitchens, but then
stopped and spun around, grimacing something fierce. “I am
everything you called me and worse. You would do well to stay away
from me so I am not tempted to repeat tonight’s
performance.”

Emma stood on the grounds for long
moments after he left, trembling—though she couldn’t decide if the
trembles were due more to fear or anticipation.

She pressed a finger to her swollen
lips and winced…but then she pressed it harder, as though she could
recreate the sensations he’d caused within her, which only
confirmed her fears. She wanted more.

Aidan chose not to break his fast with
the rest of the household the next morning, thinking it might be a
better option to avoid seeing Emma Hathaway so soon after he’d
nearly ravished her on the lawn. Instead, he sent his valet,
Cochran, down to the kitchens to fetch a tray, and then ate in his
chambers alone so he could brood.

Brooding always seemed to calm him, at
least somewhat, and he certainly needed something to provide a
calming effect. The whole night, he’d scarcely slept a wink. He
couldn’t stop thinking about the flicker of passion she’d given him
in return before he terrified the ever-loving life out of
her.

Each time he did manage to fall
asleep, he awoke in a tangle of sheets. The memory of her taste
haunted his tongue, and his cock seemed destined to be permanently
erect. He couldn’t stop thinking of the wild look in her eyes. Miss
Hathaway had been more responsive than he’d ever dreamed possible,
and he hadn’t even been the slightest bit gentle with her. Yet, she
was an innocent. She didn’t deserve the callous treatment he’d
given her, even if she’d responded favorably to it.

The worst of it was he couldn’t
convince himself he’d been trying to ruin Miss Hathaway out of
spite. Some small part of him had wanted her, wanted all that he’d
done and more, and it hadn’t been to obtain revenge for the
perceived slights against Morgan.

He was far from fit to be good company
for David and his houseguests. They were far better served by him
keeping his distance.

Aidan grew more confused by the
moment.

After he’d breakfasted and sent
Cochran to return the tray, he paced through his chambers, trying
to decide how he ought to go about the rest of this house
party.

In light of his highly inappropriate
behavior toward Miss Hathaway—and considering he wasn’t entirely
certain he wished to avoid taking it further—he thought it might be
best for all concerned if he were to leave. Go back to Tavistock
Manor and forget all of this had ever happened. Separate himself
from the problems. Or temptations. Whichever the case may
be.

Except that would mean leaving
Morgan.

As much as Aidan wanted to find the
strength to trust her recovery, to believe that she would truly be
able to live her life without falling so desperately into despair
again, Aidan wasn’t certain he had it within him.

But Niall would be here with her. It
wasn’t as though Aidan must leave her alone.

He’d talk to Niall straightaway and
inform him of his decision.

Except…damnation. His departure would
alter Vanessa’s numbers for the party, and David would not let him
cause his wife damage so easily.

Good God.
Vanessa
. Would Miss
Hathaway have run to tell her sister what he’d done to her? An
intelligent chit wouldn’t let a cad such as he go unpunished. If
she had even a slightly good head upon her shoulders, she would
have gone straight to the first female she trusted and sought
advice on what to do.

If that was the case, he’d be a dead
man before luncheon.

He’d been pacing for close to half an
hour when the door to his chamber opened without warning and Niall
barged inside.

“
You’re being a poor guest.
Why were you not at breakfast?”

“
So kind of you to announce
your presence and request an audience,” Aidan shot back. He was in
no mood for Niall’s high-handed manner.

Standing sheepishly in the doorway,
Cochran looked over for instruction. It wasn’t his fault that Niall
had pushed past him. The valet couldn’t very well tell the Earl of
Trenowyth what he could and couldn’t do, particularly when the earl
in question paid his wages.

Niall reacted before Aidan could.
“Leave us, Cochran.”

“
Milord,” the man murmured,
and he pulled the door closed as he went.

Once they were alone, Niall crossed
the room and sat in the armchair by the hearth, gesturing for Aidan
to take the seat opposite him.

Feeling a stubborn streak rearing its
head, Aidan folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.
Let Niall try to force him into a chair. They both knew that, while
Niall was taller, Aidan was by far the stronger of the two. It
didn’t matter that he hadn’t done any sculpting in a number of
years. The muscles built from wielding his chisel and hammer had
not abated in the slightest, despite the loss of some of his harder
earned calluses.

Niall scowled, but he left it alone.
“You sat alone last night, looking as happy to be here as one on
the brink of being murdered. Then you left the drawing room early
without even begging Lady Burington’s forgiveness for such an
affront. You still haven’t shown yourself downstairs today, even
though it is well past the breakfast hour and everyone is preparing
to go into Topsham for a shopping excursion. Your presence is both
expected and required.”

He stopped there, and silence fell
between them. Aidan kept waiting, expecting his brother to deliver
the verdict on what his punishment ought to be for his adolescent
behavior, or for him to add another crime to the growing
litany.

But nothing else came.

“
And?” Aidan finally said,
as the silence between them grew more than just a bit
uncomfortable. He couldn’t shake the sense that he was yet again
standing before his father as a ten-year-old boy, when he’d been
caught ripping holes in Niall’s clothing out of jealousy—Niall was
to be sent off to school, and Aidan had to stay behind with Morgan.
He still didn’t know why he’d done it. Maybe he thought if Niall
had no proper clothes to wear, then he would be forced to stay, as
well?

Niall’s lip ticked further
downward. “
And
,”
he said, drawing out the word for emphasis, “I suspect your
inability to behave like a gentleman and do as your hostess
requires of you has something to do with Miss Hathaway.”

“
Did you see—” Aidan
stopped himself before he dug his own grave. “Why would you think
that?” His innocent tone sounded laughingly feigned, even to his
own ear.

“
Did I see
what?”

This was not going well. “It doesn’t
matter. Forget I said anything.” This seemed to be becoming a
habit. He hadn’t meant to say half of what he’d said to Miss
Hathaway last night, and yet it had all come from his lips. And
then he hadn’t even bothered to retract any of it. What would be
the point? It had been the truth, devil take it.

Niall’s eyes narrowed, but he let the
matter drop. “You’re to come along on the shopping excursion.
You’re to make yourself seem the perfect gentleman. You’re to
apologize to our host and hostess for your coarse manners, if they
can even be called that.”

But he couldn’t. Aidan would only make
matters worse if he were to try to insert himself into the day’s
festivities while he was still so unable to control his own
thoughts, let alone the words that came from his mouth. “I need
more time.” It came out as a plea. He never pleaded for anything,
least of all with his brother.

Perhaps that was why it caught Niall’s
attention. He leaned forward, propping an arm on his knee.
“Why?”

Why, indeed? Aidan searched his mind,
trying to sort out the answer for himself before revealing it to
his brother. He might need to alter the truth for Niall’s ears.
Lord knew Aidan was the furthest thing from a proper gentleman, so
his behavior shouldn’t shock his brother—but for the second time
this week, he felt the urge to protect Miss Hathaway. Even if what
he was protecting her from was himself.

His efforts didn’t matter,
in the end. “Because it does have to do with Miss Hathaway, but
I’ll be damned if I can determine just
what
it has to do with her.” Aidan
snapped his jaw closed lest he say anything more.

Niall sat back in his chair, drawing
one leg up to rest his ankle over the opposite knee. He nodded, his
eyes softening a bit, as though suddenly he understood everything
Aidan didn’t. “You finally have an interest in her that goes beyond
seeking revenge for something no one else could possibly
understand.”

“
What? No.”

How did Niall know he wanted revenge?
He’d taken great pains to keep his pastel renderings locked away in
the dower house so no one would ever see them—so no one would ever
know just how sick and depraved and twisted his mind had become.
He’d never allowed anyone in while he worked. Never.

“
You don’t do a very good
job of hiding your feelings, particularly not when you’re around
Miss Hathaway.”

Aidan let out a pent-up breath, which
caused Niall to raise a brow. But at least he said nothing. Since
Aidan still hadn’t sorted everything out in his own mind, he really
didn’t want to have to explain such reactions to his
brother.

“
All right,” Niall went on,
“I’ll make your excuses today. I’ll tell Lady Burington you’ve
taken ill and plan to stay abed for the day, and you can have the
whole day to sift through all the mud in your brain. Tomorrow,
you’ll take responsibility for your own actions.”

“
Of course.” Aidan nodded,
silently giving thanks for being able to gain Niall’s cooperation
without revealing more than he had.

Niall stood and made for the door, but
stopped just before leaving. “But Aidan? If your interest in Miss
Hathaway is genuine, you’d best make up your mind to court her
properly. I won’t have you causing a scandal around her. This
family has already seen too much scandal for one
lifetime.”

Courting her, whether properly or
improperly, had never even crossed Aidan’s mind. Why the devil
would he want to do something inherently mad such as that? Had he
gone mad, like Morgan had? That might explain his otherwise
unexplainable behavior outside.

Thank God Niall didn’t know about what
had already taken place last night on the lawn. He was typically
slow to anger, but once it had been sufficiently roused—well, Niall
would stop at nothing to right a perceived wrong.

Aidan nodded for his brother’s
benefit, and then Niall left.

For the next hour, Aidan paced around
his chamber, waiting for the house to empty of guests. Once it was
just him and the servants, he sneaked through the corridors and
outside. He needed fresh air and to stretch his legs more than he
could within the confines of his chamber.

So he started walking. And kept
walking.

Aidan had no true destination in mind.
He just needed to move, to get distance…perhaps a bit of
perspective. He lost all sense of time and place as he traversed
the woody area to the east of the great house. At some point, he
recognized that he was heading toward the hermitage that he’d
passed with Lord Jacob, Morgan, and Miss Hathaway
yesterday.

The hermitage where, supposedly, David
had transferred everything from Aidan’s studio.

It had been more than three years
since he’d picked up a chisel. More than three years since his hand
had gripped a hammer and carved away a piece of marble.

The lure of his tools pulled at him—a
stronger force than he’d felt in so long he’d almost forgotten the
sensation creating used to provide him with.

But he didn’t have the key that David
had left him. Since he hadn’t planned to go anywhere in particular,
he hadn’t bothered to think of such things. He couldn’t get in. He
couldn’t run his hands over the smooth, cool surface, letting the
shape of it seep into his fingers and spread through his body. He
couldn’t go to work.