Cardiff Siblings 01 - Seven Minutes in Devon (30 page)

“
Will it really?” she asked
him, though she knew he couldn’t possibly answer her question. Not
with the truth, at least.

None of them could foretell the
future.

He stared at the empty space where Mr.
Cardiff had disappeared moments before. “At least, if you marry
him, you can keep your parents from worrying.”

“
True. But then you and
Vanessa will worry in their stead.” She made her way across the
lawn to go back inside, her tears now falling freely down her
cheeks. David started to follow her, but she stayed him with a
hand.

Once she was out of his sight, she
bent at the waist and cast up the contents of her stomach in a
hedge.

Emma waited until the worst had
passed, then made her way up to her chamber alone, unable to stop
her body from shaking.

As the houseguests all filed out of
the breakfast room the next morning, Emma left Morgan and Serena to
seek out Sir Henry. She found him standing by the great Bornholm
clock in the front foyer, deep in conversation with Lord Jacob and
Mr. Deering.

Emma briefly caught Sir Henry’s
notice. After he nodded in acknowledgement, a question in his gaze,
she stood off to the side in the corridor pretending to study a
painting of a garden. Such an inane thing to be doing, when her
thoughts wouldn’t slow down for long enough for her to examine even
the frame. A moment later, he was by her side and the other two
gentlemen had moved on to some other diversion.

“
Exquisite detail in the
rose bushes, isn’t there?” he said amiably, then lifted his hand to
run along the side and point out a particular area. “I quite like
the use of yellow just here. You can almost feel the warmth of the
sun.”

She smiled, though she didn’t feel
even remotely like being happy. What she was about to do was hardly
something she could feel joyful about…and yet, it must be done. “I
could use a bit of the sun’s warmth, myself.”

“
Shall we go out to see to
Kingley, then?” Without waiting for her answer, Sir Henry turned
and offered his arm. “I’m certain he would be glad to begin today’s
lessons. He’s doing so well, now that he has a purpose and plenty
of affection.”

If she went along with him, it would
give them a bit of time to themselves, and it shouldn’t arouse
anyone’s suspicions about their activities. Not like last night
when Mr. Cardiff had followed her out.

So she took his arm. He led her out to
the lawn, and Kingley came running to them almost as soon as they
were outside.

After they spent a moment scratching
him behind the ears, Sir Henry took up Kingley’s lead. “So, Miss
Hathaway, what has brought us out here so early?”

She stumbled from his directness but
regained her footing and kept going. Before answering, she looked
back over her shoulder to be certain no one was within earshot of
them. This was not the sort of conversation she had any desire to
have overheard, not even by Morgan and Serena, or by
Vanessa.

Sir Henry deserved at least that much
consideration.

“
There is to be an
announcement this afternoon,” she finally said when she was certain
they were alone.

He squinted off into the distance. “Of
Lord Muldaire’s betrothal to Miss Weston? Yes, I know.”

Emma stumbled again. “Miss Weston?” Of
course, Serena’s father had been pushing her toward Muldaire, but
Emma had thought that he would change his mind once he saw the
level of affection his daughter held for Lord Trenowyth.

And Serena hadn’t mentioned a word of
it this morning at breakfast. How very odd. But then, perhaps
they’d all been caught up in Emma’s news about her own
betrothal.

Sir Henry faced her. “That’s not…?
There is to be a different announcement then?”

Emma’s mouth felt parched, no matter
how many times she attempted to swallow. “Yes,” she murmured. She
really ought to look him in the eye. It would only be right. But
every time she attempted to turn her face upward, he was staring at
her with such ardor it was impossible to continue looking upon
him.

Hurting him had never been her
intention, and yet she couldn’t see any way around that
eventuality.

He shook his head and a small smile
stole over his face—not a smile of a man who was content, but more
the smile of a man who dreaded what he was about to hear. Bother
and blast. “Go on,” he said when still she hadn’t begun to
speak.

Steeling herself, Emma took
a breath and then the words rushed out of her mouth. “I am so very
sorry, Sir Henry, but they are to announce my betrothal to another
gentleman, and I never wanted to cause you pain or give you the
wrong impression about a possible connection between you and me,
but I fear that it has happened anyway. I do not know what I could
ever do to make it all right. No, I’m certain there’s
nothing
I can do to make
any of this all right, because I
did
give you the wrong impression. I
allowed you to think there could possibly be a future between us,
and it was very badly done of me to do so.”

When finally she stopped to take a
breath, she chanced a glance up to gauge Sir Henry’s reaction.
Instead of anger or scorn, she found stunned apprehension in his
gaze.

“
Please tell me you haven’t
accepted Cardiff.”

She stopped breathing abruptly. “You
know?”

The baronet gave Kingley a gentle tug
on the lead, and the two of them stopped beside her. He turned his
pained eyes fully upon her. “Of course I know Mr. Cardiff has been
trying—he’s been trying to catch you alone in some way, to
compromise you, though I don’t know what his aim might be in doing
so. Everyone here knows. We’ve all seen the way he watches you, the
way he follows you.”

Emma took a step back, blinking
rapidly. Was that his plan? Had Mr. Cardiff been intentionally
attempting to ruin her, as his final retribution for her perceived
faults?

True, Mr. Cardiff was capable of just
such treachery and worse. Emma had no reason to doubt that, and she
had every reason in the world to believe it. Yet she wanted—almost
desperately so—to believe anything else. Her stomach clenched in
knots.

But why did she want to
believe better of him? He
had
compromised her. He
had
trapped her into marriage. He had
acted dishonorably toward her more times than she could count, and
had seemingly made it his sole purpose during David and Vanessa’s
house party to be alone with her when he shouldn’t. There was no
reason at all to believe he wouldn’t jilt her, leaving her as
thoroughly and utterly compromised as she could possibly
be.

Nonetheless, there was the matter of
his words before they’d been lost in their lust. He claimed he
could no longer hate her even though he’d tried. Granted, that was
no grand declaration of his undying affection and devotion. But if
he no longer hated her, why would he blatantly and purposefully try
to ruin her? She’d thought that what they shared had been genuine
for him, as it had been for her…but was it truly only lust on Mr.
Cardiff’s part? Was he as cold and calculated as Sir Henry would
have her believe?

“
But—”

“
Has he finally done it,
then? Has he done something to trap you?” Sir Henry reached out a
hand as though to offer a consoling touch, but Emma evaded it.
“Please, Miss Hathaway. Please don’t go through with this. Don’t
marry him. Don’t announce anything—at least not anything related to
Mr. Cardiff.”

Her mouth fell open, but for long
moments nothing came out. A thousand thoughts raced through her
mind. “I appreciate your concern, Sir Henry, but—”

“
Marry me. Marry me instead
of him.” He dropped to one knee before her and took one of her
hands in his, despite her startled gasp. “Even if he has
compromised you, I can give you a comfortable life. I would not see
you suffer at his hand, Miss Hathaway, not when you could avoid
such a fate with me.” His thumb traced an absentminded path over
the back of her gloved hand.” My estate is worth a thousand pounds
a year, which is modest but still more than respectable. My hounds
account for a larger income each year than the year before, and I
expect that business to be worth another five hundred pounds a year
or more within the next five years. I know you do not feel such
ardor for me as I do for you, but I believe that can come later.
You can grow to love me.”

Which was precisely what she’d been
telling herself for the duration of the house party—what she’d been
attempting to convince herself of. Of course, her attempts had been
rather unsuccessful in that regard.

Emma swallowed hard. She
should accept him. That would be the reasonable thing to do,
because he was a good and honorable man, and he clearly
wanted
to be married to
her. She wasn’t entirely certain the same could be said for Mr.
Cardiff, and in fact, most likely the opposite was true. This was
her entire purpose in coming to Devon—to find a husband, the sort
of gentleman who would ease her parents’ worry about her
future.

Yet, no matter how much her pulse
raced through her veins at the moment, no matter how short of
breath she had become, none of it was due to any wealth of emotion
Sir Henry Irvine engendered within her. She still felt nothing but
friendship toward him. Regardless of the fact that this was what
she thought she wanted in a relationship with a gentleman, she
couldn’t convince herself of the truth of it.

She wanted more. She wanted the grand
passions she felt when Mr. Cardiff came near, even when it was
wrought with animosity at times. She wanted to feel as though her
body was alive when she was in her husband’s presence, to have
electric shocks screaming from her pores and fire burning in her
veins. She wanted to feel as though a kiss could mean
everything—could mean more than any words which might come from his
mouth.

With Mr. Cardiff, those things were
highly possible. Emma couldn’t see such a thing ever taking place
between her and Sir Henry.

She tried to pull her hand away, tried
to take a step back, but he did not release his hold.

“
I’m so very
sorry—”

“
Don’t apologize,” he
interrupted with more fervor than she’d ever heard from him before.
“And don’t say no. Miss Hathaway—Emma—Mr. Cardiff is not good for
you. He will only hurt you, and you deserve so much
better.”

When she continued to tug, he let out
a sigh and finally released her hand.

“
Please, reconsider,” he
said. “I have no desire to see you end up with a broken heart, and
that is all I can imagine will happen if you agree to this farce.
He
will
hurt you,
if not physically, at least emotionally. I know it will
happen.”

Would it not hurt just as egregiously
to marry a good and kind man whom she knew, without a doubt, she
could never truly love?

She brushed aside a tear and took a
step back, feeling a keen need to place more distance between them.
“I cannot marry you, Sir Henry. I cannot in good conscience subject
you to a lifetime spent with someone who does not feel devotion for
you of equal measure to what you feel for her. It would not be
right.”

Standing, he adjusted his beaver hat
upon his head. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle jerked within it.
“In time, you could come to feel—”

“
I assure you, I could
not,” she cut in, making certain her tone was firm so he would not
doubt her sincerity. “I do hold you in great esteem, and I treasure
your friendship…but that is all there can ever be.”

His brow furrowed, forming a deep
crease over his nose. He lifted his chin. “Very well. But if you
should change your mind—”

“
I won’t.”

“
If
you should, my offer still stands. I assure you, I am quite
earnest.”

On that, she held no doubt. She only
wished she were so certain about the decision she’d
made.

He held out his arm for her to take,
keeping Kingley’s lead firmly in the other hand. “For that matter,”
he said after they’d started their return to the manor house, “I
have no intention of giving up quite so easily. Until you are well
and truly another man’s wife, I will not stop my
pursuit.”