Fourteen
Feeling much like one of the poor beasts caged at the Tower of London, Cassie paced through the salon with a simmering panic.
What the devil was she going to do?
Last night she had dared to hope that she would at last discover Nell Maggert and put this whole horrible situation behind her. Instead, she had been arrogantly kidnapped by Lord Bidwell and then chastised as if she were a particularly dim-witted child by Lord Mumford.
And to make matters worse, Lady Pembroke now believed she was actually engaged to marry the arrogant earl.
It was . . . absurd.
She turned about to head in the other direction when the uniformed butler silently glided into the room.
“Lady Pembroke to see you, Miss Stanholte.”
Cassie felt the color drain from her face at the quiet announcement. She couldn’t face Lady Pembroke. Not until Luke had managed to straighten out the horrible muddle he had created. But even as she sorted through her foggy mind for a reasonable excuse to fob the woman off, Lady Pembroke swept into the room with a beaming smile.
“My dearest Cassandra,” she purred, determinedly planting a kiss on her cheek before pulling back to admire her pale yellow muslin gown.
Cassie flushed with discomfort. “Lady Pembroke.”
“I realize that you must have any number of things to attend to today, but I had to speak with you.”
“Oh?”
“First, you must know how sincerely delighted I am that you are to wed Luke.”
Cassie longed to sink beneath the floorboards. She had never felt more embarrassed in her life. She steeled her nerves to confess the truth.
“But, my lady—”
“Tut, tut, Aunt Sophia now,” she interrupted with a smile.
Cassie swallowed a sigh of exasperation. “Very well, Aunt Sophia. The truth of the matter is—”
“Please, let me finish, my dear,” Aunt Sophia once again interrupted, clearly unaware of Cassie’s growing discomfort. “For the past few years I have become increasingly concerned about Luke. He seemed unable to settle himself. Even after receiving his inheritance, he was restless and dissatisfied with life. It was as if he were searching for something he could not find. But now he has found what he was searching for. You.”
A peculiar pang twisted Cassie’s heart. Almost as if she regretted that Sophia’s words were not true. That she wanted to be what Luke needed in his life.
“Oh.”
“You know, you remind me very much of Luke’s mother. The same kindness and natural graciousness, and certainly the same spirited nature.” Ignoring the painful heat staining Cassie’s cheeks, Sophia opened her reticule to withdraw a small box, which she slowly opened. “Which is why she would have wanted me to give you this.”
With a sinking heart, Cassie regarded the delicate pearl necklace lying on a bed of satin. It was exquisite, with each pearl perfectly matching the next and the clasp made of silver and small diamonds. Cassie gave a hasty shake of her head.
“Oh, please, I cannot accept such a gift.”
“Do not be a goose. It is what Bella would have wanted,” Sophia gently chastised. “Now, I shall leave it to Luke to discuss the marriage settlement, but be assured that I have already made the announcement for the newspaper. And since you have no close family member to assist you, I hope very much you will do me the honor and allow me to act in your mother’s stead.”
A ridiculous surge of tears filled Cassie’s eyes at the kind offer. She wished the noblewoman had stormed in with a furious refusal to approve of the marriage of her precious nephew to a country nobody. At least then it would have been a simple matter to deny that she had any intentions of wedding the aggravating lord. Now she felt like a thorough villain as she prepared to disappoint the older lady.
“I ... Aunt Sophia—”
“Just think upon it, my dear,” Sophia said, clearly misreading her embarrassment. “Now I must go. I have an endless number of calls to make this morning. Such wonderful news.”
Reaching out her hand, Sophia thrust the box into Cassie’s nerveless fingers. Then, with a last smile, she turned to march from the room as abruptly as she had entered.
Left on her own, Cassie muttered an inelegant curse. How could she have been such a coward? She should have insisted that Sophia listen to her. Now the lady was off to announce a wedding that was never going to occur.
Against her will, Cassie’s gaze dropped to the delicate pearls glowing in the lined box. The necklace was lovely. Unlike many older necklaces, it was simply designed, with no added sets to distract from the elegant style. A necklace her own mother would have chosen.
It also belonged to the lady whom Lord Mumford would eventually claim as his bride.
That odd pang once again twisted her heart as she studied the delicate pearls. Somehow the thought was uncannily disturbing, as if the knowledge that Lord Mumford would one day choose a beautiful young bride were a source of pain.
Angered by her queer reaction, Cassie frowned down at the box, attempting to decide what she should do with the unwelcome gift. She was still undecided when she was once more interrupted by the entrance of her stoic-faced butler.
Good Lord, what now?
“Lord Mumford.”
So ... at last he had decided to make an appearance, she seethed. Too late to confront his aunt. Well, this entire disaster was his fault. He could bloody well make it right.
“Please show him in.”
“Very good.”
The butler bowed his way out and within the blink of an eye returned with her visitor. Just for a moment Cassie allowed her gaze to linger on the handsome countenance and the well-defined form so faithfully revealed by the fitted coat and breeches. Even though she had met a hundred gentlemen since arriving in London, not one could compare with this man. Somehow they all seemed a pale shadow when he was near.
No doubt because he was always managing to infuriate her, she sternly reminded herself.
Titling her chin to a militant angle, she eyed him with a frown.
“Where have you been?”
With a lazy smile, Luke strolled into the room.
“Is that any way to greet your soon-to-be husband?”
“This is no jesting manner, sir,” she retorted in sour tones.
“No?”
The annoying . . . toad, she simmered. How could he stand there with smug amusement as if there were nothing at all the matter?
Hoping to shake that indomitable composure, she thrust out her hand to reveal the small box.
“Your aunt just brought me this.”
He lifted his quizzing glass to regard the pearl necklace. “Ah, my mother’s necklace.”
“Precisely.”
“It is only a small token.” He gave a faint shrug. “There are any number of jewels among my mother’s things, as well as the Mumford diamonds that will be yours upon our marriage. Unless, of course, you wish to have something else commissioned? Emeralds, perhaps?”
She stamped a tiny foot as her frustration became too much.
“Stop this foolishness at once.”
He possessed the arrogance to give a low chuckle. “What do you wish me to do?”
Several delightfully rude comments floated through her mind.
“Speak with your aunt and tell her this is all a terrible mistake,” she demanded.
“Unfortunately, things have gone too far for that.”
“What?”
“My aunt has already managed to spread the announcement of our impending wedding throughout the greater part of London.” He lifted his slender hands in a helpless motion. “By this evening it should be well on its way through Europe. If we claim there is no wedding, then we shall all appear to be fools.”
She gave a disbelieving shake of her head.
“What are you suggesting?”
“That we allow this engagement to continue,” he smoothly responded.
Cassie widened her eyes in shock, quite certain that he could not be completely sane. Surely he was not actually suggesting that they go through with this ridiculous engagement?
“Have you taken a blow to the head?”
His lips twitched at her sharp accusation. “Not recently.”
“Then you must realize that it is absurd.”
An undeniable emotion flickered through the dark blue eyes before he was lifting a negligent shoulder.
“Actually, after some consideration, I realized that it is a perfect means of allowing me to be at your side.” His smile twisted as a flare of panic rippled over her expressive countenance. “At least until we have captured the villain attempting to steal your inheritance.”
Quite certain that she must still be abed and in the midst of a terrible nightmare, Cassie pressed a hand to her uneven heart.
“And then?”
“Then you return to Devonshire, and in due time I announce that you have had second thoughts.”
Cassie shivered. As he had with all his ludicrous suggestions, he made it all sound so reasonable. Just a harmless ploy for the next few days. But she was swiftly learning that nothing was as simple as it appeared with this man.
With every seemingly innocent gesture, he had managed to wiggle his way more firmly into her life. Into her every thought. Even now she feared that she would never be truly free of his memory.
She shivered again as she took a hasty step back.
“No, I cannot.”
He lifted his brows at her fierce tone, but an oddly satisfied smile curved his mouth.
“Why?”
She swiftly searched for a logical excuse. “I cannot lie to your aunt.”
“You have been lying since you arrived in London,” he pointed out in reasonable tones.
“This is different,” she muttered.
He stepped forward, his hand unexpectedly reaching out to cup her chin in a gentle grasp.
“It is only for a few days.”
A dizzying heat spread through her body.
“Oh,” she breathed, her gaze locking with his darkened eyes.
Just for a moment, they regarded one another in silence. A breathless excitement clutched at Cassie. Almost against her will, her body swayed forward, her lips parting. With a husky murmur, Luke slowly lowered his head to capture her mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. Cassie’s knees quivered as sweet sensations trembled through her body. She wanted to press herself even closer. To have his arms wrap about her and never let her go.
Never let her go ...
A flare of panic sliced through her mounting passion, and with a tiny moan, she abruptly pulled away from his enticing kiss.
What was happening to her?
She felt . . . bewitched. Unable to think of anything beyond her growing need to be with this man.
As if sensing the chaotic emotions battling within her heart, with a rueful smile Luke reached out to stroke her cheek.
“Do not fear, Cassandra,” he said in low tones. “Everything will be well.”
She could say nothing as he gave a bow, then turned to move out of the room.
Her lips still trembled from the heat of his kiss and her knees still threatened to buckle. And she was quite, quite certain that nothing would ever be well again.
* * *
Leaving Miss Stanholte’s town house, Luke ordered his groom to head for Lord Bidwell’s. He had received a message earlier from his friend, but nothing could distract him from calling upon Cassandra the moment he arose. Now he could only wonder at his own sanity.
Had he truly insisted that the small hellion become his fiancée?
It seemed impossible.
After all, he was a gentleman who devoted his time to avoiding the parson’s trap, not dragging unwilling, sharp-tongued chits to the nearest vicar. Still, when he had said the impetuous words last evening and his aunt had assumed he had been proposing, he had realized that he wanted nothing more than to claim Cassandra as his wife.
Perhaps he was losing what few senses he still possessed.
Leaning back in his seat, Luke closed his eyes. The sweet scent of violets clung to his clothing, sending a shiver of fierce need through this body. How he longed to drown himself in her innocence, to sweep her into his arms and tutor her in the delights of passion.
He wanted her to belong to him forever.
Unfortunately, the lady had made it painfully clear that she considered an engagement to him as enjoyable as being stricken by the plague. An odd predicament, considering he was once toasted as the most eligible gentleman in all of England.
The carriage rolled to a halt, and, still dwelling on his dark thoughts, Luke stepped out and hurried up the stairs and through the door held open by the waiting butler. Within moments, he was being led to an Egyptian-styled salon.
Leaning against the mantel, Biddles regarded his friend’s deep frown with an arched brow.
“Ah ... the happy bridegroom,” he drawled. “Welcome.”
Luke grimaced, only vaguely surprised that the gentleman had managed to discover the rumors of his engagement so swiftly.
“Hardly happy,” he retorted.
The brow arched even higher. “Egad, you are not having troubles already?”
“There has been nothing but troubles since Miss Stanholte so disobligingly tossed herself beneath my carriage.”
With a smooth movement, Biddles crossed to pour two glasses of brandy; then moving to Luke, he thrust one into his hand.
“You appear in need of reinforcement.”
Luke willingly accepted the brandy, for once not bothering to disguise his inner emotions.
“Why must she be so ... impossible?”
“Indeed,” Biddles murmured.
“There are any number of ladies who would be delighted at being engaged to the Earl of Mumford.”
“Certainly.”
Luke took a healthy gulp of the fiery spirit.
“And it is not as if she were completely indifferent to me,” he complained, recalling her trembling reaction to his kiss.
“Not.”
“So why will she not accept that I am simply doing what is best for her?”
Biddles gave an elegant shrug, his expression suspiciously bland.
“Ungrateful wench.”
“Precisely.”
“One would think she would appreciate having you thrust your way into her life, threaten her with exposure if she does not move into a home of your choosing, and then blackmail her into becoming your fiancée.”
Luke gave a startled blink at the sudden attack. Really, he had always considered Biddles his friend. He needn’t make it all sound so ... arrogant.
“Would she have preferred that I stand aside and allow her to be killed?”
Unrepentant, Biddles lifted his shrewd gaze to stab Luke with a piercing regard.
“Perhaps she would prefer not to be protected with such . . . enthusiasm.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Merely that Miss Stanholte is a woman of considerable spirit,” Biddles retorted in smooth tones. “She is bound to shy away from a rein held too tightly.”
Luke angrily opened his mouth to protest, only to have the angry words falter at the realization his friend was right.
He had always known that Cassandra was not a lady who could be bullied or forced into anything. She had been her own mistress for far too long. It was perhaps one of the things that he most admired about her. And yet, he had attempted to control and manipulate her since she had crashed into his life.
“Why does it all have to be so bloody complicated?” he growled in frustration.
“Love is always complicated.” Biddles lifted his glass in a mocking toast. “Which is why I prefer lust.”
“Love.”
The word was jerked from Luke with a faint sense of shock. He should be horrified by the accusation. Love was for fools. That was what he had always told himself. And even though he had known perhaps from the moment he had laid eyes upon Cassandra that he desired her, it was just within the past few days that he had accepted it as far more than mere desire.
Love.
Quite extraordinary.
“You have my fullest sympathy,” Biddles offered with an impish grin.
“Oddly enough, I have never been happier.” He gave a wry grimace. “Of course, I have never been so miserable either.”
Biddles set aside his glass. “What will you do?”
“What can I do?” Luke set aside his own glass and wearily ran a hand over the back of his neck. It had been far too long since he had enjoyed a peaceful night’s rest, let alone a day without one worry or another. And always in the back of his mind was the terrifying knowledge he would eventually lose Cassandra, either to the devious plot of the scar-faced gentleman or to the remote isolation of her Devonshire estate. “Even if I manage to force Miss Stanholte into marriage, she would only resent me.”
Biddles tilted his head to one side. “Have you considered telling her how you feel?”
Luke gave a dry laugh. “And frighten her even more?”
“As you said, she is not indifferent to you.”
“No.” A brief, searing image of Cassandra in his arms sent a flare of desire through his body. Good Lord, he was reacting like a mere greenhorn. A most discomforting sensation. With an effort, he firmly turned his thoughts to his reason for coming to the town house in the first place. “But first we must ensure she is safe. What have you discovered?”
With a decidedly smug smile, Biddles returned to his post beside the mantel.
“I happened to catch up with the delightful Nell last evening, and she confessed that she is deeply concerned about a friend who is in a decided quandary.”
“Indeed?” Luke narrowed his gaze. “And did you offer your assistance?”
Biddles pretended an interest in the cuff of his coat. “I assured her I could only be of help if I knew the full details.”
“But of course.” Luke refused to allow his hopes to be raised. He had been disappointed on too many occasions. “And what did she say?”
“She said that this friend had married a gentleman who claimed to be the illegitimate son of Lord Stanholte.”
“Lord Stanholte.” Luke sucked in a sharp breath. “Miss Stanholte’s father?”
“Grandfather,” Biddles corrected. “It seems that the older Lord Stanholte kept his mistress in a nearby cottage, and when she produced a son, he ensured that the boy received a small allowance from the estate and a proper education. He also sent both of them to London when he tired of the young lady. Unfortunately, when the old man died, the illegitimate son presented himself in Devonshire and demanded a share of the inheritance.” Biddles lifted his gaze. “Needless to say, the new lord promptly declined the gentleman’s request, and after a rather nasty fight, during which the chap received a cut to the face, he was sent on his way. He left swearing he would have his revenge.”
Luke abruptly released his breath. Although he had been quite certain the mysterious gentleman had a connection to the Stanholte family, he had not suspected that it would be so close. He now realized why the man was so ruthlessly determined. This gentleman had clearly convinced himself that Stanholte Estate should be his.
“So, we now comprehend why he chose Miss Stanholte and how he knew about the missing uncle,” he murmured.
“What we do not know is how to find him,” Biddles pointed out.
Luke nodded. They were close, but not close enough.
“A few days ago I convinced Toby to lead me through the neighborhood where he claimed he had followed his employer,” Luke revealed. “Perhaps we should return for a closer inspection.”
“Ah, Toby.” Biddles smiled in a dangerous manner. “How is the little rat?”
Luke chuckled as he recalled his unwilling guest’s bitter reproaches.
“Sadly disappointed with his accommodations.”
“He should consider himself fortunate you found him before I did,” Biddles said. Before he could continue, there was the sound of raised voices and a loud crash. “What the devil?”
With a sense of shock, Luke turned just as the door was thrust open to reveal the leathered countenance of Cassandra’s groom.
Luke’s heart came to a complete halt as the man stepped forward.
“My lord,” the servant breathed, his uniform torn and in disarray. “You must come at once.”