Chapter 6 #2
Cecilia drew herself up to her full height, which brought her barely to Aaron’s shoulder. She seized Buttercup’s leash with trembling fingers.
“Come, Buttercup. We are clearly not wanted here.”
She swept toward the door, the massive dog lumbering after her. At the threshold, she paused.
“Your mother would be ashamed of you,” she said quietly. Then she was gone, Buttercup’s claws clicking against the floor as they retreated down the corridor.
The words landed like a blow. Aaron stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides.
Louise moved carefully across the room, checking the floor for shards before reaching Emily. “Come, darling. Time for bed.”
“But I didn’t get to say goodnight to Buttercup.” Emily’s lower lip trembled. “And Lady Merrow looked so sad.”
“You can see them both in the morning.” Louise helped her sister down from the settee. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
“Lady Louise.” Aaron’s voice stopped her at the door. “A word, if you please.”
Emily turned, her small face fierce. “It wasn’t Louise’s fault. She was only trying to help Lady Merrow reach the figurine. I’m the one who wanted to see Buttercup do tricks.”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the child’s defense. Something flickered across his expression, too quick to name.
Louise stroked Emily’s hair, her touch gentle. “Go on up, darling. I’ll come tuck you in shortly.”
“But—”
“Go.”
Emily cast one last worried glance between them before scurrying toward the stairs. Her footsteps faded, followed by the distant sound of a door closing.
Louise turned back to face Aaron.
They stood alone in the wreckage of the drawing room, the fire crackling softly, broken porcelain glinting in the lamplight. Aaron’s chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, his jaw still tight with fury.
“Your Grace,” Louise began.
“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Don’t defend what happened here. Your role is to keep my aunt safe, not indulge her every whim.”
“You were supposed to be protecting my aunt from exactly this sort of chaos.”
Louise’s chin lifted. “Your aunt was enjoying herself. I saw no harm in allowing her some fun.”
“No harm? She could have fallen. You could have fallen.”
“But we didn’t.” She stepped closer, and he caught the flush in her cheeks, the spark of temper in her eyes. “Lady Merrow is a grown woman, not a child to be coddled.”
“She’s my responsibility.”
“She’s a person with her own desires and autonomy.” Louise moved closer still, close enough that he could see the gold flecks in her green eyes. “When did you last see her so happy?”
The question struck deeper than she could have known. When had he last seen anyone in this house happy? When had he last felt anything approaching joy himself?
“Happiness that risks injury is foolishness.”
“A life without risk is no life at all.” Her voice dropped, something shifting in her expression. “Your Grace, your aunt needs more than safety. She needs to feel alive.”
They stood barely a breath apart now. Aaron drowned in her eyes, in the passionate defense of his aunt’s dignity, in the way her chest rose and fell with emotion.
“If your carelessness endangers them …” The threat came out rougher than planned.
Fire flashed in her eyes. “I have raised Emily alone for years, Your Grace. I know precisely how to keep those I love safe.”
The words hung between them, and Aaron wondered with sudden fierce hunger what it would be like to be counted among that number. To have Louise’s fierce loyalty directed at him.
Her lips parted as she stared up at him, confusion flickering across her features. The afternoon light streaming through the windows caught in her hair, turning copper to flame. Aaron leaned closer without conscious thought, drawn by something stronger than reason.
Her breath caught. Time suspended between one heartbeat and the next.
“Good.” The word emerged as barely more than a growl. Aaron stepped back abruptly, distance the only defense against whatever madness had nearly overtaken him. “See that you remember it. I won’t warn you twice.”
He strode from the room, not trusting himself to look back. In the hallway, he paused, pressing his palms against the cool wall. Control. He needed control.
“Your Grace?”
Mr. Thornton approached with careful deference. “A Mr. Howlett to see you, Your Grace. You asked him to call?”
That was quick.
Good.
Business would clear his head.
“Send him to my study.”
The Runner waited inside, a compact man with intelligent eyes that missed nothing. He rose as Aaron entered, offering a brief bow.
“Your Grace. I’ve made inquiries as you requested.”
“And?”
“Lord Sulton was seen four nights ago at a gaming hell in Seven Dials. By all accounts, he lost heavily playing hazards. The dice were not his friend that night. When he couldn’t pay, there was an altercation.”
Aaron moved to his desk, needing the barrier. “Was he injured?”
“Minor injuries. He fled before the proprietor could call in reinforcement.” Howlett consulted a small notebook. “The concerning part is what happened after.”
“Go on.”
“He was seen near the docks two nights later. Meeting with unsavory types. The name Wigram came up.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened. Ernest’s intelligence had been correct. “John Wigram. The smuggler.”
“You know of him?”
“By reputation.” Aaron pulled out his purse. “What’s George’s involvement?”
“Unknown at present. But Wigram doesn’t meet with gentlemen unless there’s profit involved.” Howlett accepted the payment with a nod. “Shall I continue surveillance?”
“Discretely. I want to know exactly what Lord Sulton has gotten himself into before we act.”
“Understood, Your Grace.”
After Howlett departed, Aaron stood at his window, looking at the garden below.
Louise had moved outside with Emily and Aunt Cecilia.
The child threw sticks for Buttercup while the women sat on a bench, heads bent in conversation.
The late afternoon sun caught Louise’s hair, making it glow.
After a few minutes, his aunt rose and headed back toward the house.
The door opened without ceremony. Only one person dared to make such a presumption.
“You’ll join us for dinner.” Cecilia’s tone brooked no argument.
“I have correspondence to address.”
“It can wait.” She moved beside him, following his gaze to the garden. “That young woman is trying desperately to maintain dignity while her world crumbles. The least you can do is share a meal.”
“My presence would only make things more difficult.”
“Your absence makes you seem like an ogre.” Cecilia’s voice gentled. “Emily asked me if you ever smile.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I’d seen it happen, rarely. Usually, when you think no one is watching.” She patted his arm. “Eight o’clock. Wear something that won’t terrify a six-year-old.”
She left him alone with his thoughts. Aaron watched Louise laugh at something Emily did, watched the way she automatically checked their surroundings even while relaxed, watched the grace in her movements and the strength in her bearing.
Ernest was right. He was fighting a losing battle.
The question was whether he possessed enough honor to keep fighting it.