Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon (23 page)

Emma tried to reinforce this thought
within herself time and again as she and Sir Henry worked with
Kingley Sunday afternoon, trying to help him adjust to walking on
the leather lead the baronet had fashioned with the aid of the
grooms in the stables. It was shorter than what he used with most
of the dogs he trained, but he said that should help with Morgan,
allowing Kingley to guide her instead of the other way
around.

“
Stay,” Emma said, tugging
gently at Kingley’s lead.

He settled beside her left leg,
plopping his bottom down on the ground and looking up at her with
his tongue lolling out of his mouth. While everything in her wanted
to give him his bite of chicken right away for being so smart, she
resisted, just as Sir Henry had repeatedly emphasized was
necessary. Kingley must learn that rewards didn’t come
immediately—that the best reward was earning their
praise.

When he’d sat there happily wagging
his tail for at least thirty seconds, Emma glanced over at Sir
Henry, raising her brow in question. He gave her a nod, and she
instantly bent to reward Kingley with his treat. “Good boy! You
learn so well.” He gobbled it up while she scratched behind his
ears—easily his favorite thing in the world, until whatever the
next favorite might be came along.

She only granted him a moment of her
effusive flattery before once again straightening and turning
serious. Kingley responded to her change in demeanor, sitting up at
attention.

“
Walk,” she said, and then
waited for him to take off. She wanted to rely on her eyes and
guide him around the obstacles that Sir Henry and the grooms had
devised—crates here, and barrels there, that sort of thing—but that
wasn’t the purpose of this exercise. Instead, she waited for the
simple signals that Kingley was to provide.

He moved a little too fast at first
but slowed when she refused to allow him such free rein. A moment
later, he settled at her side, keeping to her precise pace. But
this was the easy portion of the course. Greater barriers lay in
wait for them ahead. Indeed, just when she was certain she would
have to take over and guide him lest she run headlong into a
barrel, he nudged her leg.

She moved to the right, as he’d
directed, and they kept walking. Moments later, the two of them
drew too close to a bale of hay for her skin not to crawl with
trepidation of the impending contact. He tugged her left with the
lead just in time, and she went with him.

It didn’t take Kingley long to guide
her through all of the obstacles they’d set for him. When he came
to a stop at the end, Emma dropped to her knees to deliver him his
chicken and a series of scratches. He let out a happy bark before
licking her on the cheek, which only led her to giggle like a
schoolgirl.

“
I think,” Sir Henry said,
reminding her that she and Kingley weren’t alone, “perhaps we can
put a blindfold over my eyes and see how he does. It wouldn’t
surprise me in the least if he’s ready for that. Kingley has been
quite the efficient learner.”

Emma couldn’t help but note the sound
of surprise in Sir Henry’s tone each time Kingley exceeded his
expectations. A small part of her wanted to shout at him that she’d
told him Kingley would be the perfect dog for the task, but such a
reaction wouldn’t be terribly ladylike. Not only that, but it would
likely eliminate any interest the baronet might have in forming a
connection with her.

Instead, she kept her thoughts to
herself and smiled at him when she rose to her feet. “And do you
have a blindfold with you, sir?”

He pulled an un-starched cravat from
the pocket of his coat and started to tie it himself, but he was
making a muck of it. After three attempts, he let out a laugh. “I
do not know why this is proving such a problem for me.”

Emma held out her hand. “Allow me, Sir
Henry.”

“
Gladly.” He handed the
material over, brushing his fingertips over her knuckles in the
process, drawing out the contact more than was proper.

She flushed and hastened to move
behind him, making quick work of tying the cravat in a knot behind
his head. “There we are.” She stepped away from him rather more
quickly than was necessary, but couldn’t seem to stop herself from
trying to put as much distance between them as she possibly
could.

That was not the sort of reaction she
ought to have with a gentleman whom she might agree to marry,
should he make such an offer. She bit her lip to stop the thoughts
that were racing through her head and trying to make themselves
known, such as the fact that there had been none of the friction,
none of the heat in his contact that she’d experienced when Mr.
Cardiff had touched her.

That thought had no place here. Not
now. Not ever.

Sir Henry reached a hand out, groping
into the ether. “Miss Hathaway? Might you put Kingley’s lead in my
hand?”

But that would mean she had to move
closer to him again—and he would have an opportunity to touch
her.

Emma bit down on her lip, raced over
to take Kingley’s lead, and pressed it hastily into Sir Henry’s
grip. Without giving him the opportunity to prolong the contact,
she dashed aside to watch the proceedings from a safe distance,
trembling all the while due to the lack of—well, anything save
panic—she’d felt at the baronet’s mild flirtation.

Kingley safely guided Sir Henry
through the course two times in a row before the baronet suggested
they rearrange the obstacles and try again. They kept working,
praising Kingley when he did as expected and having him repeat when
he did not, for another half hour.

Finally, Sir Henry removed the cloth
from his eyes and smiled at Emma. “I think he’s ready to attempt
the course with Lady Morgan. She’ll need one of us with her, of
course, so we can be certain she learns to respond to his guidance
and that he’ll respond to her commands…but we’re certainly
progressing farther than I’d imagined for this stage of our
training sessions.”

With that, Emma couldn’t hold back a
giddy exclamation of joy, which only served to have Sir Henry look
upon her even more fondly.

“
Oh, she’ll be
delighted.”

He took a step closer to Emma,
fumbling with the cravat in his hands. “There is little in this
world I find as delightful as you, Miss Hathaway.”

Her breath caught in her throat when
he closed the distance between them more than he already had done.
She knew she should be flattered and that she should welcome his
attentions—she should even encourage him. But all she wanted to do
at that moment was run as fast as she could in the opposite
direction because of the lack of charged air between
them.

Blast, but she frustrated herself. Why
now, of all times, must she compare Sir Henry to Mr. Cardiff? It
wasn’t fair to either of them. Each man was something the other
could never be. Most of all, it wasn’t fair to her.

Emma forced herself to stay where she
was, making sure to keep her eyes focused upon Sir Henry. She would
not give in to the temptation to make her escape. She would not
ruin this chance, this opportunity, which fortune had seen fit to
grant her.

He was a handsome man. His light brown
hair curled slightly at the ends, and he had a certain warmth to
his eyes that was inviting. She could learn to welcome his
attentions, should they marry. Surely with Sir Henry she could
learn to feel the same sense of excitement, of need, as she’d felt
with Mr. Cardiff. Couldn’t she?

Emma leaned in as he drew closer,
bracing herself for the kiss she knew was coming and berating
herself for the very fact that she must brace herself for
it.

But before Sir Henry’s lips met hers,
Kingley let out a growl at her side that made her shiver from the
ferocious intent behind it.

Sir Henry jerked back and spun around,
trying to see what had roused Kingley’s hackles. Emma did not have
to look far, however. Lord Jacob Deering was walking across the
clearing toward them, all cocksure swagger and sullen defiance.
While it had taken Kingley a few days to accept some of the men at
Heathcote Park, he had never warmed even slightly to Lord
Jacob.

That did not stop the man from
attempting to goad Kingley in return. He bared his teeth and
growled right back at the dog, which so incited Kingley’s desire to
attack that Sir Henry was forced to make a dashing grab for his
lead.

Lord Jacob merely laughed. Then he
turned to Emma and gave a sardonic bow. “Lady Burington requires
your presence at tea, Miss Hathaway.”

Of all the people at the house party,
the only one Vanessa would have been less likely to send to fetch
Emma than Lord Jacob was Mr. Cardiff. She couldn’t help but wonder
what his true intention for coming to fetch her might be, but there
was no manner in which to question his motive without rousing his
suspicion about her own.

Sir Henry smiled at her and offered
his arm. “Shall we? I shouldn’t wish to keep your sister
waiting.”

Shaken all the way to her core, and
unable to truly explain even to herself why she ought to be, Emma
reached out her arm and placed her hand upon his sleeve. She didn’t
trust her voice, so she merely nodded and quirked a slight
smile.

“
Coming, Deering?” the
baronet asked, still holding tight to Kingley’s lead.

But Lord Jacob looked out across the
expanse of the lawn, staring off into the woods nearby. He let out
a sigh and shook his head. “I don’t believe so. I need to go for a
walk far more than I need tea.” Without waiting for their response,
he took off in the direction he’d been looking, tossing another
growl over his shoulder for Kingley’s benefit before he was out of
earshot.

“
Well,” Sir Henry said when
Kingley finally relaxed and stopped pulling against him. “To
tea?”

Emma nodded again, despite her sincere
doubts that tea would be enough to calm her jangling nerves.
Perhaps she could slip into David’s study and sneak a bottle of
something stronger, like the apple brandy Mother often gave her,
without being noticed. It would certainly be worth the effort to
try.

Blast Mr. Deering for being out and
about in the corridors before tea. Emma had been on her way to
David’s study to borrow a bottle of apple brandy when he’d come
upon her and offered, ever-so-kindly, to escort her in to the
drawing room to join the rest of the houseguests. He hadn’t really
left her with too many options, and so she’d had to try to calm
herself without the aid of spirits.

She hadn’t done so
effectively.

Not only that, but he had begged out
of the tea early, claiming he must see if his cousin, Lord Jacob,
was feeling quite the thing yet. Lord Muldaire had accompanied him,
and off they’d gone.

It seemed everyone, at this house
party, was prone to feigning illness. Vanessa might well think they
had an epidemic in the great house.

At least now, she, Morgan, and Serena
had made their escape. They were out on the lawn with Kingley…and
without a single gentleman there to interfere in their plans. The
servants had left all of the obstacles in place.

For the first time since her afternoon
lessons with Sir Henry, she could breathe again. It felt as though
a great weight had been lifted free from her chest, like it could
finally expand and release as normal.

“
Should we talk about it?”
Morgan asked.

Emma blinked, taken aback. “Talk about
what?” she hedged.

Morgan smiled then, kindness etched
into the scars around her mouth. “About whatever has you balled up
in knots.”

But she didn’t even know how to sort
it out in her own mind, let along how to speak with her friends
about it all. She bit her lip and glanced over at Serena, who held
the same look of concern. Emma took Kingley’s lead and placed it
into Morgan’s hand. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s all been
sorted out.”

But it hadn’t. Not in the
slightest.

Still, this was about Morgan, and
Kingley, and teaching the two of them to work together. Not about
Emma and her silly problems. Hers were nothing in comparison to
what Morgan must face for the rest of her life. One look at her
friend was all Emma needed to remind herself of what was truly
important in life.