She frowned. It was in her nature to help others. It always had been. Now she was torn between a desire to offer a hand to another in need…and to avoid the touch of a person who terrified her because he was just too…too much. But perhaps that would be the buffer she needed. All those years ago with Aaron, she had been tricked by the game he played. She’d believed in him simply because he told her she should.
But now things were different. She knew exactly what Morgan Banfield was. She wouldn’t be fooled by any costume he put on or game he played. Unlike all those years ago, she would be stronger. More distant. It would be a good test, at any rate, wouldn’t it? After all, she was expected to marry at some point. She wanted to be a mother, and that was how it happened. This would be practice for exposing herself to a man who would try to flirt with her. Practice for keeping herself distant from whatever he pretended to want.
“Well,” she said with a small shrug that didn’t reflect how difficult all this was to her. “Perhaps. His input couldn’t hurt, at any rate, and it will help him learn about the property.”
Amelia stared at her, and there was no mistaking her surprise that Lizzie had capitulated to the request. She tried not to let her feelings be hurt by that expression and smiled at her sister-in-law.
“That would be very kind of you,” Katherine said. “Thank you, Lizzie.”
“I’ll speak to Hugh,” Amelia said. “Before supper. And since Mr. Banfield will be joining us for our meal tonight, perhaps you’ll find a chance to speak to him about it yourself.”
Lizzie nodded, but was pleased when Amelia retook her place on the settee and she and Charlotte started talking about a book they’d both recently read. Now that the attention of the room was no longer focused on her, she almost sagged with the effort this conversation had required.
Had she truly agreed to spend extra time with Morgan Banfield? In the guise of helping him, of all things? Perhaps it would all work out and nothing bad would come of it. But she couldn’t help but believe she was making a terrible mistake.
And she could only hope it wouldn’t be the kind that left a permanent scar.
Chapter 5
Morgan sat at the end of the long dining table, smoothing his fingers along the heavy fabric of the napkin in his lap. This was his third night in the service of the Duke of Brighthollow, but the first time he had been asked to join the family for supper. He had no doubt it was thanks to his brother, for Roseford sat across from him with Katherine at his side. On his opposite side was the Duke of Donburrow. The infamous Silent Duke signed his words and his wife, Charlotte, translated the hand language he’d been told they’d shared since childhood.
It was a fascinating thing to watch them move as such a unit. Morgan had already begun to pick up on a few of the words here and there, and he practiced signing them in his lap below the table. He had little else to do, in truth. After all, he was invited to sup with them, but he didn’t belong in their circle. He was an outsider.
He stood at the glass in the cold, watching as his brother and his friends laughed and joked and exchanged stories. They were a family, more so than he and Robert had ever been.
His gaze slid down the table. On the far opposite side sat Elizabeth. She was part of the family, certainly. Seated beside the Duke of Brighthollow, she often laughed at her brother’s jokes or smiled warmly at his friends. But there were times when he could see her join him on the fringes of their circle. Times when he watched her shrink into herself a little, as if she were trying to disappear.
She glanced down at him as if she noted his attention to her. When she saw he was staring, her cheeks filled with pink color and she dropped her eyes to her nearly empty plate and fidgeted with her silverware.
He made her nervous. Interesting.
Of course he had to remind himself, yet again, that Lady Elizabeth was not his type. She was too quiet, too shy, too innocent. He didn’t run around destroying the futures of those who were untouched, it wasn’t his nature. So he couldn’t let his boredom and lack of comfort in his new place in the world alter his goals and the rules by which he lived.
Elizabeth was out of reach. That was the end of the story.
“I hear the topic of the garden came up today,” Brighthollow said as the final course was placed in front of each guest.
Nuts and dried fruit, sprinkled across a vanilla-flavored ice cream. The dessert was all the rage at present, and difficult to come by, so to have it was a casual example of how beautifully managed and well-funded this estate was.
And now Brighthollow wished to hand over that managing to Morgan. And not for the first time, Morgan wondered if he was the kind of man who wanted to take care of checking the icehouse to be certain it could provide ice cream for a party of eight.
“—and since Mr. Banfield already offered to help her, we thought that might be the best opportunity,” the Duchess of Brighthollow was saying.
Morgan jolted as he realized he’d been dragged into the very circle where he’d claimed to himself that he didn’t belong. He looked around the table to see if he could glean the particulars of the conversation. They’d brought up the garden, of all things. And that he should help someone. The only her he’d offered to assist was Elizabeth, in their truncated encounter in the library days before.
He glanced over to find her eyeing him from the corner of her eye with an almost guilty expression. “I would certainly be happy to help Lady Elizabeth with her garden project if she’d like the assistance,” he drawled, holding his gaze on her until she was forced to acknowledge him with a slight nod.
“Th-thank you,” she said, her voice only barely carrying down the long table.
“I will find you when the gentlemen rejoin the ladies and we can discuss what it is you need,” he added.
She nodded and her eyes moved away, while her cheeks were suddenly pink. He would have smiled at creating that pretty blush, but for the fact that when he stopped looking at her, he realized her brother was watching him closely. Brighthollow was not an easy man to read. It took effort generally, but in that moment there was no work required to see his concern.
Blast, Morgan would have to be more careful. Playing around was one thing, but getting sacked less than a week into this odd venture was another entirely.
For a short time, conversation was drawn away and then the dessert plates were cleared. As Elizabeth got up, Morgan noticed her briefly glance his way again before she took Amelia’s arm and the two strolled out of the dining room together, down toward the parlor where the ladies would have their sherry.
The men separated off in another direction, toward the billiard room and port. Robert found his way to walk side by side with Donburrow, which left Morgan with his employer. Brighthollow moved with a quick, purposeful gait toward the billiard room, his gaze straight ahead.
“Lizzie’s garden is very important to her,” he said as they neared the room.
Morgan pressed his lips together. The tone made it clear that Brighthollow was warning him. “Yes, I get that sense,” he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral as he tried not to picture bright blue eyes and blushing cheeks.
“I will advise you to be careful with my sister,” Brighthollow added as they entered the room together. “She is not to be trifled with.”