Adoration

God, if only I knew how to change things I would.

Completely at a loss to know what to do, Morgan bowed. He kept his gaze locked on hers, and silently willed her to look at him. When she did, he saw shadows and a caution in the warm brown of her eyes that made him frown.

‘There is more going on here, isn’t there?’

‘No,’ Sissy said firmly. She offered him a smile. ‘We just cannot attend your ball. I hope it is an enjoyable occasion for you, though. Please send our felicitations to your sister and mother.’ She lowered her gaze to the floor and dipped into a curtsey, as if making it clear that there wasn’t much else to say.

Something deep within Morgan balked at the idea of just walking out. When everything within him was screaming at him not to do it, he stepped closer to her. The air between them crackled. It drew them closer. Looking down at her, Morgan knew he was in the right place, even though everything was completely wrong. Slowly, he picked up her hand in his and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it. The second their fingers touched he heard her breath hitch. Her startled gaze flew up and collided with his. A wealth of hidden meaning hovered between them; unspoken words; unacknowledged feelings; all hovered tantalisingly close yet out of reach.

‘I will bid you a good night,’ he murmured huskily.

Sissy n

odded jerkily. Her breath was released in one long whoosh of air when she realised that she had been holding it. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest and her fingers burned where he had held them. She clenched her fist and wanted to cup the back of her hand to preserve the warmth there. Quietly, she followed him to the front door and stared avidly at him as he stalked out of her house.

The second he stepped across the threshold the man Morgan had been a moment ago disappeared. In his place was the steady stride, broad shoulders, and arrogant demeanour of the man that he truly was, the Lord of the manor. He didn’t look back but for that Sissy could only be grateful because he couldn’t then see the tears hovering in her eyes.

Sissy studied the closed door and tried to ignore the faint discontent that made her want to open it again. Instead, she hid behind a shutter and watched the man she firmly believed she loved ride out of her life. The ferocity of the ache in her chest was now worse than it had ever been. She touched the window longingly as she watched him leave her life again. The window felt as cold and bereft as her life did now. It was heart breaking.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Norma called from upstairs.

‘Yes. He has gone now,’ Sissy replied, forcing herself to turn away from the window and face the room.

‘I wonder why he came to see where we were?’ Norma asked when she joined her in the sitting room moments later. ‘You should have accepted his invitation. It isn’t right that we both remain at home.’

‘I want to stay here,’ Sissy replied firmly. ‘I have some sewing to do.’ As she settled into a chair beside the fireplace and took out her sewing, Sissy was painfully aware of her aunt watching her carefully. ‘Besides, you know as well as I do, we really don’t belong over there,’ she added conversationally. ‘It is what we discussed and agreed earlier, isn’t it?’

It wasn’t really a question. Norma didn’t answer. Instead, she watched her for a moment or two before quietly retreating to the kitchen.

When she was alone, Sissy tried to sew but slapped it onto her lap with a heavy sigh. Dropping it back into her bag, she picked up her book, flipped open the pages and tried to focus on the words. It was then that she remembered she had put a pot of water on to boil. But making tea didn’t take half as long as she needed it to. Even when she slowed her movements down, Sissy found herself resuming her seat in the sitting room far too soon.

She was, once again, left to face her thoughts, and they were troubled thoughts because they were all focused on the one man who she knew she couldn’t ever have: Morgan Rothersham, Lord Campton.

CHAPTER FIVE

The following morning, Morgan shared a rueful look with Ralph before turning to stare at the passengers in his Barouche. He had no idea how Mariette had inveigled him to get involved in this morning’s jaunt. ‘A wise man would have found something else to do,’ he murmured for Ralph’s ears alone.

‘But it appears that you are not a wise man, Morgan,’ Ralph smirked.

Together, they looked at the giggling young women seated behind them before firmly facing forward. Morgan released a long, drawn out sigh. Taking anybody out in his carriage this morning was something he most definitely did not want to do.

‘Why have they not gone home?’

‘God only knows,’ Morgan hissed. ‘At least I am not accommodating them.’

‘Come on, Morgan. Are we going to sit here all day?’ Mariette called.

Morgan glared at her. ‘One trip through the village and then we are coming back. I don’t have the time for anything else.’

‘But you don’t have anything more pressing to do this morning,’ Mariette argued.

‘And you know my business, do you?’ Morgan snapped with a glare.

The occupants of the carriage went quiet.

Morgan pierced Boris with a dark look. ‘They will be back in an hour at the most. Make sure their carriages are ready.’

‘Aye, sir,’ Boris murmured before slamming the door to the Barouche and stepping back.