A Rogue to Ruin (The Pretenders #3) - Darcy Burke Page 0,59
she should gauge her godfather’s current sentiment. He’d been very upset after the dinner on Monday.
“You should spend time together,” she said. “Perhaps in a group at first, but then just the two of you.” An idea struck her. “Sandon, I mean, Lorcan is lovely. If you wouldn’t mind, I could also speak to him. I do believe he feels a slight relief that you’ve returned. He is far more in love with that Irish estate than fulfilling any duties here, which would be required after his father dies.” She shuddered. “How I detest thinking of such things.”
“Death comes to us all, Anne,” he said quietly. Again, she felt a pang of sorrow. And regret for making the comment knowing what she knew, that death had been a central part of his life.
After a moment, Rafe said, “Lorcan seems…pleasant. The most pleasant of the three of them, anyway. Please, whatever you organize, leave Deborah out if you can?” He gave her a pleading look that made her smile.
“I will do my best. She can be unpleasant.” Anne frowned. It was more than that. “Hearing that she was cruel to Beatrix and Selina has made me question my relationship with her.”
“Good.”
The sharp one-word response drew Anne to snap her gaze to his. She glimpsed that darkness in him once more, and a faint shiver tripped across her shoulders.
“I’ll try to arrange something soon—a dinner here, if Jane and Anthony are amenable,” she suggested. “After that, perhaps you can go riding with Lorcan and my godfather.”
“No.” The word was as crisp and definitive as the one he’d uttered a moment before. “I don’t ride.”
She knew he didn’t like riding, but hadn’t realized that meant he didn’t. “At all?”
“I never learned. I wasn’t raised to be an earl, Anne.”
She knew that, of course. But she realized there were still many, many things she didn’t know about him. Things she wondered if she’d ever know. “They could teach you.”
An abrupt laugh spilled from him, and he shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“Why not? You said yourself that your father can’t return, so why not look to your uncle to teach you?”
That darkness pulsed from him once more, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “My father gave me a pony and had started to teach me. I don’t think I could let my uncle continue the tutelage. That is too…close.” He looked away again, his features tense, his body stiff.
Anne touched his leg and scooted slightly toward him so their knees touched. “I’m sorry. I should have realized. I suppose since I think of your uncle as family, I want you to think of him in the same way. Particularly since he is your family.”
He put his hand on hers. “It’s fine. This is not easy. That’s why I came to you for help. I don’t know where to begin.”
She nodded once. “We’ll start with a dinner—without Deborah. I’ll speak with Lorcan and explain that my goal is to bring you and your uncle together. It’s for the good of everyone. Lorcan will see that, and my godfather will too. Eventually. Once he’s grown accustomed to how things must change.”
“How long will that be, I wonder?” There was a sardonic quality to his tone that prompted her to take his hand between both of hers.
“Have faith,” she said. “You have a family, and while families can be incredibly disappointing, they can also be lovely. I am going to hope that yours will be the latter.”
“Unlike yours. Your sister notwithstanding,” he said. “You have no contact with your parents at all?”
A ripple of discomfort passed through her. “Not at present. I can’t yet forgive them for Jane. I will in time. For now, it’s good to have distance.”
They sat in silence for a moment, his gloved hand between her bare ones. She idly wondered if he would mind if she stripped the offending accessory away.
“Would it be all right if I came to the dinner I arrange for you and my godfather?” she asked.
“I expect you to be there. Please.”
She’d thought so, but wanted to be sure. “And will that be the only time I see you?”
His gaze riveted to hers. “It should be.”
Between his words, she heard the barest chance for something more. She would seize any opportunity. There was an undercurrent between them now. Where they’d always been at least slightly flirtatious, this was more. There was a depth, a need, to their connection.