Edward finished one of the teacakes and wiped his fingers with the serviette. “When did Sir Harcrumb leave?”
“Directly after dinner, or so Tom, the stable master, told me.”
“Who else was at dinner?”
Essie grimaced. “Let me think. There was Sir Harcrumb and Mrs. Harcrumb. George Wayte and Lady Millicent…oh, and Sir Ralph. He came to see Lady Ashford before she left.”
“Can I get your grace another cup of coffee?” Lil asked.
“No, one is enough, and I can see that Lady Wayte has barely touched hers.”
Cassandra glanced at the cup she still held, having taken not a sip. She lifted it to her lips and drank deeply. A wobbly smile creased her mouth. “I’m preoccupied it would seem. You can remember nothing else about that night, Essie?”
“Nothing, m’lady.” Her frown abruptly turned to a look of amazement. “I just thought of something.”
Cassandra held her breath.
Essie’s glance darted from Cassandra to Edward, her eyes sparked as if she’d discovered the Holy Grail. “The very same people who were at Waytefield on the day before Lord Wayte’s death are there right now.”
Her graying head bobbed. “Sir Harcrumb and Mrs. Harcrumb arrived this morning for a short visit.”
“They’re here.” Cassandra barely whispered the words.
“They are indeed, causing a stir in the servants’ quarters.”
Lil broke the long silence that followed. “If we may have your leave, your grace, m’lady, Essie promised to help me decorate the drawing room for Lady Sarah’s party, and Lady Ashford gave me a long list.”
Edward waved a hand of dismissal. “Quite all right, Lil.”
Cassandra dropped her fisted hands on the table’s surface, her mind made up. As soon as the housemaids quit the room, she sent Edward a look of consternation. “I feel I must see Jane Vernon. The fact that Daphne had an ermine-lined cloak may be coincidence. Jane’s gentlemen friends lavish expensive gifts on her. It’s likely she owns such a cloak. But I want to question her myself, Edward. I can leave after Sarah’s party.”
Edward pressed his hand over hers. So warm, so strong. It was both a comfort and a hindrance. “I can’t let you do that. It isn’t safe.” His voice was gentle but firm. She started to protest, and he continued. “Indulge me in this, Cassandra. A man wants to protect his lady.”
His lady. She stared into his eyes filled with tenderness—and something else that turned her protest to mush. She wanted to please him in everything, however unreasonable.
He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, evoking a mellow sensation that flowed from her hand to her heart. “At the least, wait until we hear from Charles’s investigators.”
She nodded and gulped the wave of apprehension threatening to strangle her. Charles would report day after tomorrow, and in the space of that time, she must sort everything out. Find a way to leave Edward.
He spoke of danger, but he didn’t understand the danger.
Even if Sir Harcrumb didn’t kill him, other dangers surrounded Edward. Daphne was right. Cassandra couldn’t marry him. To do so would damage his reputation. She’d be a stumbling block instead of a helpmate.
How could she close the door on his love? How could she hurt him? And he would be hurt.
But he deserved better than her.
It was the greatest sacrifice she’d ever faced—and it would break her heart.
Chapter 24
Rain continued to drizzle into the next day. From her bedroom window, Cassandra watched the guests arriving for Sarah’s birthday fete. She considered not attending the party, but knowing the girl expected her, she came down the stairs at the appointed time.
She followed the sound of voices punctuated with childish laughter to the drawing room.
Besides Lady Pugh, Daphne, and the children, several ladies and gentlemen she’d never met scattered about the room.
Daphne rushed towards her as soon as she entered the room. “Cassandra, would you take Sarah and the children to the yellow saloon?” Though Daphne held a smile in place, her voice sounded forced.
Without waiting for Cassandra’s agreement, Daphne turned and clapped her hands. “Children, follow Lady Wayte to where you may play games until we serve Sarah’s cake.”
Any servant could be called upon to supervise the children, but Cassandra was to be dismissed to the children’s quarters it seemed.
When she lifted her brows, Daphne lowered her voice. “We have a spot of trouble. You see, Miss Bates had to leave this morning—something about her father being injured at their Yorkshire farm. However, as I told Edward, I was certain that you would help Lady Sarah entertain her young guests.”
Cassandra glanced at the assembly. More adults than children. She puckered her mouth with annoyance. So that was how the wind blew. Daphne had obviously used the occasion of Sarah’s birthday fete as an excuse to invite her own friends.
She’d given no thought to Sarah’s wishes and was now ready to send her and the other children out of sight. Furthermore, she’d planned to rid the adult party of Cassandra by having her play the role of governess.
Gama toddled in, and Daphne turned her back to Cassandra. “Lady Hayes, let me assist you. Lady Pugh is waiting over in the corner.”
Sarah and her young guests stared at Cassandra expectantly, so what could she do but acquiesce to Daphne’s wishes? Edward hadn’t arrived, and she preferred the children’s company anyway.
With Sarah leading the way, and Cassandra bringing up the rear, the little troop marched to the end of the hall where the yellow salon was situated.
Leaving the children engaged in a game of skittles, Cassandra found a corner chair and busied herself with rearranging the figurines on the side table.
After only a few seconds, Sarah joined her.
Cassandra met the girl’s gaze. “Aren’t you going to play with your guests?”
“Have you noticed they’re all quite younger than I?”
True, none of the children in the party could be above ten. “Don’t you have friends your own age?”
“Mary and Phoebe are my age, but Lady Ashford said they couldn’t come.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “The reason they couldn’t is because they weren’t invited.”
“You think Lady Ashford deliberately failed to invite your friends?”
Sarah sat in the adjacent chair and dangled her feet. “Of course she did. She’s in a vastly foul mood, isn’t she? She’s says it’s because of the rain, but the real reason is she knows she’ll likely never see Edward again after today.”
Was it possible Daphne had truly given up? “Why do you think that?”
“She knows Edward prefers you to her.”
“I’ll return to London when Gama leaves. And Edward hasn’t asked me to marry him.”
“He will. Will you accept him?”
Would she? That was the question that kept her awake last night. She couldn’t allow her own feelings to outweigh what was best for Edward. “I think we shouldn’t worry about that until, and if, the problem arises. Now, won’t you play with your guests a while?”
Sarah sprang to her feet and grabbed Cassandra’s hand. “Oh all right, I will, but marry him. Do. He loves you.”
“How do you know that?”
“He looks at you the way Papa used to look at Mama when he came home from a journey—like he couldn’t get enough of the sight of her.”
A good way to describe love. Sarah returned to her guests, leaving Cassandra with her thoughts.
He loves you.
She’d have to tell him the truth, though doing so might turn that love to disgust. Did she even have the courage to tell him? Reliving the horror of that time—those scenes she’d used every ounce of her being to keep hidden.
Charles Galloway would return tomorrow with his report. She prayed those girls who depended on her for refuge would be safe. And Harcrumb? He was at Waytefield plotting his revenge. When would he strike?
The children played jingles and blind man’s bluff, then sat in a circle to play parlor games until Simpkins came.
“Lady Wayte, they’re ready for the children.”
“Thank you, Simpkins.” Cassandra rose slowly. She must shake her morose for Sarah’s sake. At least she had the portrait ready to present to Sarah along with the other gifts.
She spotted Edward as soon as they entered the drawing room. Their gazes locked from across the space, and he left the two gentlemen with whom he’d been conversing and strode toward her. He stayed to turn the pages of the music Cassandra softly played on the pianoforte, ignoring Daphne’s irritated glances.
After everyone ate their fill of cake and ices, Daphne glided to the center of the room. “Now Sarah, you may open your presents. We’re all anxious to see what you have.”
The children gathered around in a semi-circle in front of Sarah who took the big arm chair standing beside an occasional table covered with gifts wrapped in bright paper and ribbons.
“Open this one first, dearest,” Daphne said, handing her the most elaborately wrapped package. “It is from me.”
Sarah untied the wide silk ribbon and opened a gilded box to reveal a china doll dressed in a red velvet ball gown.
The three little girls sitting before her gasped, crying “ah” in unison. Sarah was unimpressed. She handed the doll to one of the little girls. “I’m really too old for dolls.”
Two bright red dots appeared in Daphne’s cheeks.
“Sarah.” Lady Pugh harrumphed.
Sarah drew her lips into a pout, but she took the doll back. “Thank you very much, Lady Ashford. I shall cherish it, I’m sure.”
She set the doll aside and ripped into the next present. The one Cassandra had recommended for Edward to give.
“Exactly what I needed.” Sarah jumped up to give her brother a hug and held up the box containing an assortment of watercolor paints and brushes.
Cassandra moved behind the sofa where she’d propped her gift and lifted it. The portrait was heavier than she remembered, and she struggled with it.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Edward took the package. The young children scattered as he squatted before Sarah.
“The afghan is my present,” Gama said. She referred to the colorful knitted afghan covering the painting.
The adult guests ceased their muted chatter, and a flutter of nerves took Cassandra. What if she’d failed? She’d poured her heart into this portrait in an attempt to show Sarah her parents were still happy. Too much to ask of a portrait.
Sarah untied the loosely anchored gold cord, and pulled the afghan away. She sent a glance to Cassandra, her pansy colored eyes registering astonishment.
As soon as she fixed her gaze on the portrait, water sprang in her eyes to be followed by quick gasps and then racking sobs.
Sarah’s reaction stunned everyone into silence, then all eyes turned to Cassandra.
Lady Pugh crossed the room, followed by Daphne. Lady Pugh took Sarah into her arms, and the girl wept on her aunt’s bosom.
Daphne’s glare pierced Cassandra. “How could you? Didn’t you think that a reminder of her parents would upset the child? Look, she’s devastated. You’ve ruined her party.”
“Daphne, Sarah asked for the portrait.” Edward’s voice was controlled but hard.
But Daphne was right. Cassandra bit her fist to prevent crying out. She ought to have realized the emotional effect the portrait would have on Sarah. Why didn’t she think to let her see the painting beforehand—as she worked. She’d made a great mistake to surprise the little girl.
She sped from the room and ran down the hall, not knowing where to go. If she went upstairs to her chambers, she’d encounter the servants. At the moment she could face no one. She turned into the small parlor used to receive persons of lesser importance.
The room lay in shadows since it contained no windows, nor had the lamps been lit. Cassandra collapsed on a gray and white striped settee and buried her face in her hands.
***
Edward stared, mesmerized by the portrait. Cassandra had painted his parents, not as they had been, but as they were. His father’s arm lay across his mother’s shoulder, and she held his free hand in both her own. They both looked out as if surveying a vast expanse, a hint of a smile on their faces. Their eyes conveyed peace…there was no other word for it. A forest of conifers made up the background with streaks of sunlight breaking through, suggesting a celestial light that bathed the couple. The composition reminded him of Titian’s rendition of angels.
He knew why Sarah wept. His own emotion burned the backs of his eyes, but there was no time to study the painting now. He’d heard the swish of Cassandra’s gown and glanced up in time to see her rushing out the door.
His boots pounded the marble floor as he searched for her.
Then he heard a sob.
Having spotted her from the doorway, he entered the dim room and closed the distance between them in slow strides.
She lifted her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry, Edward. I should have realized.”
He helped her sit upright and lowered himself beside her. “You could not have known, but the portrait was exactly what Sarah needed. Do you know she’d shed hardly any tears since our parents died until just now?”
She swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Since no bodies were recovered from the shipwreck, I think Sarah refused to believe our parents wouldn’t come home sometime. She knew from a realistic view they were gone, but deep inside, she refused to admit it. But now she sees they won’t be coming home because they are home. In heaven.”
Her forehead puckered. “How can you know what Sarah thinks?”
“Because they were my parents too, and your painting moved me. It brings me peace in a way I haven’t known before.”
Her disbelieving look searched his face. “It did?”
“You’re an extraordinary artist, Cassandra, and you’ve come to mean so much to Sarah…and to me.” The moment lingered as they stared into each other’s eyes.
Now wasn’t the time he’d have chosen to declare himself, but it seemed right. “Marry me, Cassandra.”
She stiffened and pulled her hand away. “I…I cannot.”
He had nothing to lose now. “I love you, Cassandra. If you won’t, tell me you don’t love me.”
She drew in a deep breath, more like a shudder, and studied his face for long moments. Her hand reached out and her slender fingers caressed his cheek. “I do love you, Edward—more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but I can’t marry you.”
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Her words made no sense, but they still managed to elate him. She loved him. With love, everything was possible. He released his breath in a long sigh. “You married Lord Wayte.”
“I loved Lord Wayte as a daughter loves a beloved father, and I think he loved me as a father loves a beloved daughter. But my love for you is different. I yearn for you.” Her voice cracked. “With all my being.”
“Why must you yearn for me when I’m yours already?” He reclaimed her hand and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back. “We must accept the world as it is, Edward. I would damage your reputation, and you have great work to do. I could never forgive myself if I hindered you.” Her wet lashes cast crescents against her ivory cheeks.
“Without you I wouldn’t have the heart to do great work. If you’re going to break my heart, Cassandra, you must tell me why. I deserve that much. What happened to you before you married Lord Wayte? I asked you that once before, and you evaded the question.”
Her eyes widened, the pupils dilated as they had that moment she’d swooned after hearing Lucy’s fate. He recalled those incomprehensible words she’d uttered. “I am Lucy.” Now they made sense.
With her face washed of any expression, she moistened her lips. “You’re right, it’s the only way to convince you.”
Her bosom lifted in a deep breath, and she held it for several seconds.
He watched her swallow. How hard it must be for her to hold her composure, and if there was any other way, he wouldn’t ask this of her. “You sympathize with those young women because you were one.”
She didn’t deny it. “When I was sixteen, I got a letter from Gama—Lady Hayes—inviting me to visit her in London. I was so excited, but my grandfather said I couldn’t go, that I shouldn’t involve myself with the nobility, that I must accept my station and be happy in it.”
A grimace pinched her brows. “My mother was a member of the minor aristocracy and married down when she married my father. That was a bone of contention with my grandfather.”
“But you did go to London?” Edward prompted.
“I ran away.” She smiled and shook her head. “I had no idea how large London was. I wandered about for days, sleeping in alleys, until my money was gone. No one could tell me where my godmother lived.
“Then this man—Sir Harcrumb—found me and demanded to know what I was about.” A hardness came into her blue eyes Edward had never seen before. “He offered me a job in his hostelry and promised to find Gama. I looked upon him as my savior and decided I’d work only long enough to save the money to return home.”
“Which hostelry was that?”
“The Green Duck. It was strange to me. I didn’t understand what went on, but didn’t ask. My job was to serve and clean up after drunken men. After I thought I’d worked long enough, I began asking when I might be paid, and was laughed at for my efforts.” Bitterness dripped from her voice. “I should have run away when I had the chance.”
She paused so long, Edward asked, “What happened?”
“Harcrumb came into the establishment one day, and I asked him if I might be paid. He laughed and said I owed him, but he’d found a sheik willing to pay off my debt. Harcrumb’s ship was sailing within a month, and I’d be sent on that ship to serve the sheik in his harem.
The Duke's Dilemma (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 2) Page 24
