Cates, Kimberly (31 page)

"Philip!"
she said, her tone so bright it hurt her own ears. "What a surprise!
Whatever are you doing here?"

"Richard
assured me he'd informed you I would pay a visit. He—" Philip stopped, his
aristocratic brow creased in puzzlement.

"I—I
suppose he did. I just didn't expect you quite so—so soon."

"Not
soon enough, by the looks of it." Philip's blue eyes traced her
features—features she was certain were blotchy and red from her recent bout of
tears.

Norah's
cheeks flamed, and she was certain he could tell she had been weeping. The
knowledge was humiliating beyond belief.

"Norah,
tell me it isn't too late to—" Philip stopped and seemed to shake himself,
as if suddenly aware of the footman still hovering there, watching with
mistrustful eyes. "You are dismissed," Philip bit out in a clipped
voice.

Calvy
merely stood there stolidly, looking to Norah. "My lady?"

"It's
all right, Calvy. Lord Montgomery and I are old friends."

The
footman still looked distrustful of the Englishman, but he bowed and retreated
down the path.

Philip
watched him go, his classically handsome features clouded with concern, his
shoulders, beneath the impeccable cut of his Weston-tailored coat, set at a curiously
challenging angle.

When
he turned back to Norah, she was stunned by the expression in the man's eyes.
"It's true, isn't it?"

"True?
What?"

"Dear
God, I had hoped I could stop you before it was too late! But that servant
claims you are already Kane's wife."

Norah
gaped at him, stunned and confused. Why would it matter to Philip if she had
wed Aidan? What could the odd light in his eyes possibly mean? "We were
married this morning," she said, a little unsteadily.

Philip's
mouth twisted, as if she'd suddenly caused him pain. He turned his back toward
her, his voice tight. "Norah, you must believe me, I had no idea what
madness Richard had stirred up, involving you in such a crazed affair. Sending
you off to wed a stranger."

"But
Richard said that you knew—that he told you."

"Before
you left, he told me that you were marrying a widower in Ireland with whom
you'd been corresponding for months. He damned well didn't tell me it was Aidan
Kane!
Aidan Kane!"
Philip all but spat the name. "Norah, I...
when I got Richard's letter revealing the name of your betrothed, I... God, it
drove me mad."

Norah
felt as if her nerves were raw, frayed first by Cassandra's rejection, then
Aidan's lies, and now the obvious concern of a man she had once believed
herself to be in love with. Had Philip come all this way because he cared for
her, at least a little?

There
was a time when that knowledge would have been heavenly, as unbelievable as any
fairy tale. Now it only cinched tighter the crushing weight of sadness that
held Norah in its grasp.

"Philip,
I—" She couldn't squeeze the words through her aching throat.

"I
hold myself responsible for this. I should have looked into it further. Pushed
Richard to tell me more. I should have come to you and... and told you—"

"I'm
not your responsibility, Philip, regardless of our past friendship. And it was
my decision to marry Sir Aidan. No one else's."

"You
were desperate. That bastard of a stepfather, plotting to give your hand to
that asinine child! It must have seemed so... so hopeless to you. And what did
I do? The fine and noble Lord Philip Montgomery? Did I help you? Did I tell you
how I..." He broke off the words, capturing her hands in his own.
"Maybe it's not to late to dissolve this... this travesty you've entered into
with Kane. It can be annulled. I'm certain Kane cannot have any true affection
for you—the man is incapable of realizing what a treasure you are. And you—you
are far too fine a woman to fall in love with such a villain."

Norah
looked down to where Philip's hands clutched her own, the wedding ring Aidan
had slipped onto her finger glinting in the sunlight streaming into the garden.

"Philip,
I—"

The
sound of footsteps made Norah jump, and she tugged against Philip's hands in
alarm, but the aristocrat only drew her into the protective circle of one arm,
turning to face whoever approached with a challenging glare.

Norah's
heart fell when her own gaze collided with the tall, muscular form of Aidan,
his wedding garb disheveled, his hair tousled by the impatient raking of his
fingers. He looked as if he'd fought a dozen battles in the hours since they
had left the small stone church. But it seemed he had won the war, for behind
him, her steps dragging, came Cassandra, sullen-eyed and somewhat repentant.

The
instant Aidan saw her with Philip, Norah saw something flare with white-hot
intensity in the Irish knight's eyes, something that made her struggle free of
the Englishman's grasp, her cheeks flaming as if her new husband had caught her
in some flagrant tryst with a lover.

Wanting
desperately to drive that expression from Aidan's eyes, she hastened toward him
and linked her arm with the rigid curve of Aidan's own. "Aidan, I'm so—so
glad that you have found us," she said with a wobbly smile.

"That
is a new twist to such... garden visitations at Rathcannon," he observed,
the jeering bitterness that laced his voice making Norah wince.

She
was painfully aware of Cassandra's eyes regarding the whole scene intently.

"Aidan,
this is an old friend of mine from England. Lord Philip Montgomery."

"Lord
Montgomery?" Cassandra repeated the name with such sterling innocence that
Norah's nape prickled with apprehension. "Oh, Papa, this is the dashing
hero who rescued our Norah at that dreadful party in London! Norah, isn't he
the one who danced with you?"

Norah
wished the garden path would open up and swallow her. "That was only one
example of Lord Montgomery's kindness to me. He—he is on his way to his
family's estates in Sligo."

"Then
he's going in the wrong direction." Aidan's stormy gaze clashed with
Philip's. "Sligo is a good deal farther north. I know you English
landlords rarely visit your holdings. But if you'll follow the coast, I'm
certain you'll stumble across it eventually."

"Aidan!"
Norah gasped. "That was hardly necessary. He merely came to—to wish me joy
in our... marriage." She tried to forget the stricken expression on
Philip's noble face, the sound of his desperate denial.

But
she felt as if the whole scene was branded on her face. Aidan flashed those
green eyes in her direction, and she saw a muscle in his jaw knot. He looked as
sullen as his daughter for a moment, then his shoulders slouched into that
position of lazy arrogance she'd grown to know so well. "I suppose I must
apologize for being a trifle uncivil, Montgomery, but it is disconcerting to
come in search of one's bride, to find her in the arms of another man."

"And
I suppose I might apologize as well," Philip allowed with palpable
hostility. "But surely you cannot blame me for wanting you to know that
Norah is not completely friendless in this godforsaken land."

Norah
worried her lower lip. If they exchanged many more apologies like these, the
two men would likely be on a dueling field before nightfall.

"I
have made a good many friends since I arrived here," she interjected
hastily. "Mrs. Brindle is delightful, and the Cadagons are absolute
treasures. And Cassandra..." She stopped, glancing at the girl she already
loved nearly as much as she loved Cassandra's reckless father. But she much
doubted Cassandra would welcome any claims of affection at the moment.

"The
Cadagons?" Philip demanded. "Not Lord and Lady Cadagon of
Finnsbar?"

Cassandra
broke into silvery laughter, batting her long lashes at the nobleman. "No,
Lord and Lady Cadagon of Groom's Cottage. Gibbon rules over our stables, and
Mrs. Cadagon is the most delightful housekeeper in all Ireland."

"You
have befriended the household staff?" Philip gaped at Norah with well-bred
horror.

"Norah
hasn't been here a month, you know," Aidan said, more than a little
defensively. "Cass and I have kept her quite to ourselves."

Philip's
lip curled. "I'd wager you would, Kane. A
gentleman
must protect a
lady like Norah from wagging tongues. One wouldn't want to risk a prospective
bride hearing anything unsuitable."

Norah
felt the subtle shift in Aidan, the slight tensing of his arm, the lift of that
strong-carved jaw. "Oh, I have no fear of Norah overhearing anything, Lord
Montgomery. She has already heard all from my own lips."

"I
don't believe it. If she had, Norah would never tolerate such—"

"Philip!
Please! Aidan has been most—most forthcoming, and—and surely it is a matter
between husband and— and wife," she stammered, unsettled once again by the
trickery he'd used to get her to the altar, unnerved by the knowledge that
Philip must be aware of the scandals that had sullied Aidan's past.

If
Philip knew, Norah thought with a chill, then most of London must remember as
well. And if that were true, the danger of Cassandra being told of her parents'
sins was greater than Norah had even suspected.

Norah
raised a hand to her hair, the last white rose bruising at the touch of her
fingers. "Philip, I thank you for your concern. And for your kindness in
visiting Rathcannon on my behalf. But I know you must be anxious to reach
Sligo. Perhaps I can summon up a bit of tea before you continue on your
journey."

"Oh,
but he must stay at least until the ball," Cassandra piped up, sweeping
over to clutch at the handsome nobleman's sleeve, her eyes all sweet
supplication. "We are having the most lovely party to introduce Norah to
our neighbors. There is to be music, and dancing, and a delightful supper
party."

"Cass,
Lord Montgomery is in Ireland on business," Aidan said in hard accents.
"I'm certain he has far more important things to occupy him than our
insignificant rustic entertainment."

"But
Papa, Lord Montgomery obviously has such great affection for Norah. And, Your
Lordship, you know how painfully shy Norah is at such affairs."

"Cassandra!"
Norah protested, her cheeks afire. "I—I am hardly a bashful girl any
longer. There is no need for Lord Montgomery to inconvenience himself
further."

Cassandra
turned her brightest smile on the Englishman. "Of course, Norah would
never admit it, but you know what I say is true. It would make her so much more
comfortable, I'm certain, to have you there. That way if no one asks her to
dance, you can rescue her again!"

"And
why would my bride need rescuing?" Aidan demanded, in a surly tone.
"You think I would leave her hiding behind a pillar?"

Norah
glanced at him, unable to stifle an acid thought. Perhaps not a pillar—but he'd
certainly left her standing at the church where they were wed.

"Papa,"
Cassandra said, drawing out the syllables and making a moue of long-suffering
adolescent displeasure, "you can be most careless at affairs like this.
Besides, it will be quite a feather in Norah's cap if she parades an English
lord about at her first party as mistress of Rathcannon."

"You
are a most astute young lady," Philip Montgomery said. "And so
considerate, thinking of Norah's feelings. I shall deem it a privilege to
remain."

"It's
not necessary, Montgomery," Aidan said stonily. "I can tend to my own
wife."

"Can
you? I suppose I shall see for myself." Philip turned to Norah, those
steady eyes holding hers for long moments. "I shall look forward to
waltzing with you once more." He raised her gloved hand to his lips,
holding it there for long seconds.

"Norah,"
he said, low, husky. "You look... more beautiful than I've ever seen you
with roses in your hair." His fingertips brushed the fading bud.

"Now
if you'll forgive me, I shall need to procure lodging for the night. I believe
I passed an inn some miles back."

"Don't
be absurd," Cassandra insisted. "We have dozens and dozens of rooms
no one uses! Papa, surely Norah's friend must stay with us?"

Aidan
looked as if he could easily throttle his daughter, but the girl had trapped
him.

"Of
course, Montgomery may stay if he wishes. But often bachelors of his sort
prefer the privacy of an inn to a household running half mad with preparations
for this kind of an affair. I'd not blame his lordship a bit if he sought
refuge in the inn."

Philip's
eyes met Aidan's, and Norah sensed that the Englishman had grown more
determined with each barely veiled challenge that had come from Aidan's mouth.

"You
mistake me, sir," Philip said. "There is nothing I would enjoy more
than the opportunity to spend time with a lady I hold so dear. If you will
excuse me, I shall go inform my servants that we shall be remaining here for a
brief stay."

With
a curt bow, he strode away.

Norah
turned back to Aidan and Cassandra, her hands trembling, her stomach lurching
at the expression in Aidan's eyes. It was glittering, hard, cynical. She could
see the anger in him, hear it as he turned on his daughter.