Page 24 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)

Chapter Nineteen

N aila’s aunt fell to her knees, wailing inconsolably.

Aghast, Hawk stared down at the old lady. “She does speak English, does she not?”

“Yes, my lord,” Philips, Strickland’s butler, intoned. “She certainly does.”

He felt slightly panicky. “Then why is she reacting as though the young lady has met a fate worse than death?”

“Mrs. Kassab tends to be rather . . . erm . . . effusive about all manner of things.”

“I can see that.” Hawk had no experience managing extreme emotional outbursts. The English excelled at pretending feelings did not exist.

He’d arrived at Castle Tremayne minutes ago to collect Naila’s aunt, hoping to deliver her to Miss Hind’s bedside at Briar Hall by that evening. But the moment he told Mrs. Kassab about the girl’s accident, she crumpled to the floor, a stream of incomprehensible Arabic laments pouring out of her.

The butler motioned for two footmen to help Auntie Majida up. They guided her, still moaning, to the nearest chair. All three men looked expectantly at Hawk until he realized, belatedly, that they were waiting for him to take control.

He straightened his spine, reminding himself that he was an earl, a grown man in possession of himself, and not the young boy who’d allowed himself to be bullied by a fearsome scold. Although, at the moment, Auntie Majida looked like a broken old woman that no one could possibly be afraid of.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said to the servants. “That will be all.”

Once they were alone, Hawk produced a handkerchief for the old woman. She accepted it and mopped her tears with gusto.

“The doctor expects that Miss Hind will make a complete recovery,” he repeated, in case she’d missed it the first time. “Miss Naila thought it best that I bring you to Miss Hind’s bedside.”

“ Yalla ,” she said, pushing up from the chair.

He knew from his summer with Naila that yalla could mean all kinds of things, from “let’s go” to “hurry” to a verbal shrug. It all depended on the intonation and circumstance.

“I must go to Hind,” she added.

He marveled that the termagant seemed to have recovered herself as quickly as she’d burst into tears. The shift was like a violent summer storm that vanishes as swiftly as it appears.

An hour later, they were on the road, the old lady having packed and presented herself at the carriage within twenty minutes. Here was the part of this endeavor Hawk dreaded most, spending three hours in a confined space sitting across from the woman who’d cheated him out of happiness.

She snored softly, having closed her eyes after twenty minutes of polite silence. He studied her as she slept, the multiple webs of fine lines marking every surface of her face. The brown aging spots. The perpetual frown she wore even in sleep. What had this woman seen in her lifetime?

“You don’t like me.” She startled him by opening her eyes to stare straight into his.

Hawk was too polite to agree but also wasn’t about to deny the truth. “It shouldn’t be too long now before we reach Briar Hall.”

“I told her to forget you,” she said matter-of-factly in heavily accented English. “But she no listen.”

The carriage felt suffocatingly small. He needed air. Talking about personal matters with the woman who helped ruin his life was the last thing he could stomach. It was bad enough that being around Naila resurrected feelings in him that were best kept buried.

And then it hit him. Naila hadn’t forgotten him? What did the old lady mean by that?

“Did Miss Naila tell you that she hasn’t forgotten me?”

She shrugged. “She did her duty.”

“I know all about duty,” he said bitterly. He was an earl, responsible for vast lands and servants and tenants. His life was duty.

“Man’s duty is different from girl’s duty,” she said. “If she go against her family and you turn out to be bad, what happens to her? She has no life. No good.”

“What kind of life does she have now?” he shot back. “A life in service to others? Looking after other people’s children? Nursing sick relatives? Playing the piano so that others might dance? Is that a good life?”

“She’s a good girl,” she answered, as if that’s all that mattered.

“Doesn’t she deserve better? She could be married and have children of her own.”

She shrugged. “Her naseeb didn’t be coming yet.”

“Her what?”

“The man destiny send for to be her husband,” she explained. “Her naseeb .”

The words scalded him. “Maybe he already came but you sent him away.”

She scrutinized him. He shifted uncomfortably under her beady gaze. It felt like she could see right through to the inside of him. “You still be wanting her.”

He stiffened. “I didn’t say that.”

She scowled. More than usual. “Why you wanting her for? Naila, she too old now. You be needing young girl, like Hind. She give you healthy sons.”

“I wasn’t good enough for Naila, but now I’m good enough for her cousin?” He waited for the old lady to admit to being a fortune hunter. “This wasn’t about Naila marrying her own kind, was it? It was all about the money.”

She didn’t bother to deny it. Nor did she appear affronted. “How much money you having?”

“Plenty. I gather being wealthy makes a man acceptable?” Contempt laced each syllable. “Does Mr. Amar have enough money to satisfy you?”

“Kareem is not rich,” she said. “But he be good match for Naila. He educated and from a good Arab family.”

“I see.” Not that he’d needed it, but here was confirmation that the family championed such a match.

“Naila is daughter of good family,” she continued.

“We don’t be giving her to boy with no future.

In Philadelphia, we don’t know you. We don’t know your family.

We know nothing about you. If you turn out to be bad husband, what happen to our daughter?

If you have no money, what happen to our daughter? She have hard life.”

He looked away from her. Staring out the window at the countryside rolling by them. It wasn’t so different, was it, from the English way of doing things? Young ladies married for money and security. For titles, too. He knew that firsthand.

In England, everyone knew he came from a well-established family because he was a distant cousin to an earl. In America, they’d have no one to ask, no way of knowing for sure. They could have inquired of his uncle in Philadelphia, but how many uncles would speak poorly of their relation?

Would Auntie Majida have reacted differently had they known his family? Before he could ask her, a quiet snore rumbled through the carriage. She’d fallen back asleep. Guilt certainly wasn’t keeping the old lady awake. Auntie Majida sounded so sure, so secure in the decision she’d forced upon Naila.

For the first time in many years, Hawk began to consider the situation differently.

The old lady had done what she thought was right by her niece.

He might even be able to forgive her, not that she seemed to care what he thought.

He understood now that Auntie Majida truly believed she’d done her best.

His gut panged. But Naila should have known better.