A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Silence descended.

Miss Darling came to her feet. “Well, thank you for supper, but we must return to the house before the servants send out a search party.”

Lockhart stood and moved around the table. “May I walk with you?”

The lady shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Will you not permit me this one indulgence?” he said, offering a wicked grin.

A faint smile touched her lips. “I think I have indulged you enough this evening, Mr Lockhart.”

He captured her hand and bowed low. It crossed his mind to inform her that he was a man with an insatiable appetite, but he simply said, “Then I bid you good night, Miss Darling. I look forward to seeing what delights you have to offer tomorrow evening.”

“Delights?” She snatched her hand back.

“Will it be pheasant or might I hope for goose?”

Her cheeks coloured. “If you hope for goose, you will be sorely disappointed.”

An odd feeling settled in his chest upon noting her mild embarrassment. The urge to drop a purse full of coins into her palm proved overwhelming. A woman so humble might struggle to convey the bearing of an affluent aristocrat. How would she fare living in the luxury afforded a man of his wealth?

Dariell assisted Emily Darling to the door. He promised to call at the house the next day and discuss the arrangements for her first lesson. After returning the lady to the care of her sister, he bid them both a good evening, watched them walk away and then closed the door.

Neither man spoke as they cleared away the plates, ready for the footman who came to collect them every evening. It was not until Dariell had stoked the fire and they settled into their chairs that Lockhart broached the subject of Emily Darling.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you take a genuine interest in a woman,” Lockhart said.

Dariell saw no merit in meaningless liaisons. So what was it about Emily Darling he found intriguing?

“I am interested in anyone with a pure heart and kind soul.”

Lockhart snorted. “Then why the hell are you friends with me?”

Amusement flashed in Dariell’s dark eyes. “For the reasons I have just mentioned. You are an honest man still trying to find the right path.”

“Your interests in Miss Emily run deeper than appreciating her character,” Lockhart said, eager to steer the conversation away from his own failings.

“Perhaps.”

“It does not bother you that the lady is blind?”

“Why would it when she can see better than those with the gift of sight?”

Dariell had a point. Some people spent a lifetime unable to see the beauty of their surroundings, unable to appreciate the love radiating from their children’s innocent faces. Some parents failed to see their child’s strengths and only focused on their weaknesses.

Lockhart stared at the fire’s amber flames.

The empty feeling returned—a crippling hopelessness a man ought not dwell on. Except for his friends, Lockhart was alone in the world. He doubted his family would welcome him with open arms like the prodigal son.

“You are thinking of your return home,” Dariell said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Is it home anymore? I am not so sure.”

“Home, it is anywhere love resides. You have friends who care for you there.”

His friends—Greystone, Drake and Valentine—were like brothers. Now they were all married, and he would embrace their wives as his sisters.

“You have always been a good friend, Dariell.” Damn. Thoughts of home brought various emotions to the fore.