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‘You are welcome to join us anyway,’ he murmured gently. ‘The hour is still early. I can get you back home by midnight. I can go and fetch one of the maids to come and sit with your aunt and keep her company.’
Sissy was already shaking her head before he had finished. She couldn’t think of anything she would dislike more. The thought of making a grand entrance on his arm made her want to retreat to her room and bolt the door so nobody could force her to do it. She knew it was a childish way to deal with the matter but the horror of having people study and assess her, and compare her against Morgan, was something that made her want to weep.
‘Aunt Norma needs me here,’ Sissy announced.
‘You are welcome to go, dear,’ Norma called from up the stairs.
Sissy mentally cursed when she watched Morgan smile. Rather than accept as she strangely found herself wanting to do, Sissy pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘I am sorry, but I need to stay here. I cannot leave Norma seeing as she is not well.’
Morgan knew she was refusing his invitation for a different reason but struggled to know what it was. While Sissy was friendly enough, there was a caution, a wariness about her that left him at a loss to know what to say. He rarely struggled to talk to women, but with Sissy he had no idea what he could do to ease the growing tension that began to build between them partly because his emotions were involved. It mattered to him that she had a good opinion of him.
‘Thank you for your invitation, my lord. It was very kind of you to call to check on us, especially when your attention is needed at home. We will, of course, send our apologies to your mother and sister. It was very lapse of us to not send word to you earlier.’ Sissy mentally winced. She knew she was rambling and forced herself to allow silence to settle between them.
Morgan stepped a little closer. When he spoke, his voice was low and for her ears alone. ‘Come now, Sissy. We have known each other for years. There is no need for such formality, is there? You can call me Morgan.’
Sissy looked shocked. In private she did call him Morgan, although would never dream of calling him by his first name in his presence. ‘Oh, but I couldn’t do that, sir. It wouldn’t be proper.’
‘But I want you to call me Morgan. Surely it would be improper of you to refuse me,’ he mused.
But there is a very credible need for a lot of formality between us. It helps me keep some distance between us, he thought.
Each time he looked at her and smiled at her the way he was doing now, the need to step closer was horribly tantalising even though Sissy knew it was wiser to step away. She knew it was foolish to allow her wayward imagination to even start to daydream that Morgan might be attracted to her. It was a preposterous notion. Morgan as her handsome hero who wanted a closer relationship with her was something out of her daydreams. It couldn’t possibly become a reality.
Each book I read has him as a hero. The notion of us being together must remain as fictious as the books I read.
Sissy had realised that at some time during the summer last year, when she had settled down to read a third book in rapid succession only for her mind to obstinately paint Morgan as the hero again. It was hopeless to try to envisage someone else as the hero in any novel she read.
That is because Morgan is my hero.
Sissy forced herself to focus on what he was saying but couldn’t withhold the sigh of longing that escaped her.
‘We are old family friends.’
‘My father knew yours, but my father has been passed on these seven years since,’ she whispered.
Morgan frowned a little. It annoyed him that she felt the need to try to distance herself from their acquaintance. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Of course. Like I have said, Aunt Norma has just caught a chill, that’s all. I am sure she will be fine in time,’ Sissy smiled, deliberately misunderstanding his question.
‘What about you? Are you well?’ Morgan had no idea why he kept trying to draw out the conversation when there really was nothing else he could say.
‘Yes, I am very well, thank you,’ Sissy murmured politely.
Morgan stared at the sparse yet neat and tidy room. Two winged chairs beside the fireplace were matched with one long chaise between them. They were all careworn. A small battered table sat beside each of the chairs and on the floor was a threadbare rug. He knew that all of the truly expensive ornaments and furniture Sissy’s father had once owned had remained in the house. Her cousin, a rather arrogant fop called Charles, had inherited the house and the rest of the contents. Consequently, Sissy and her aunt had been forced to take up residence in this rather tiny house on the outskirts of the village and furnish it with threadbare castoffs.
It’s a damned shame that she must live like this.
He wanted to help her but was at a loss to know what to do that wouldn’t cause offense or draw their different situations into stark focus.
‘Come with me,’ he pleaded before he could talk himself out of it.
‘I can’t,’ Sissy whispered. ‘I am sorry but I don’t think it is a very wise thing to do.’
Morgan sighed heavily. He had to wonder what had possessed him to put himself in this kind of situation. Nothing had really changed. It was painful to stand right before her and yet be so far apart.
‘Well, if you are sure, I shall take my leave of you then. Let me know if you need anything,’ he urged gently, trying to find some way of getting her to be at ease in his company.
This was the first time he had spent any time alone with Sissy and he wanted it to last for as long as possible. He knew it was going to be a very long time before they were ever afforded such an event again, which made him hesitate when it came to leaving her.
