“I will take care of her future,” Lady Mary said with assurance. “She will come and live with me.”
Raile had never proposed marriage before, and he found the words stuck in his throat. “I would consider it an honor if you would allow me to ask your niece to become my wife.”
Lady Mary stared at Raile as if he had lost his mind. “You cannot have said what I think you said. You don’t even know Kassidy.”
“Many marriages are arranged before the parties are well acquainted. I would make her an amiable husband.”
“A marriage of convenience?” Lady Mary was astounded. “It wouldn’t be a good match. Besides, I have always wanted Kassidy to marry for love. You would not be marrying her for that reason.”
“That’s true, Lady Mary. But I can give her all the advantages, and she will never want for anything.”
“Kassidy has never been impressed with wealth.” Lady Mary surveyed Raile. His dark good looks would make him popular with the ladies, even if he weren’t wealthy and titled. He was the catch of the season—of the decade for that matter.
“What would be the advantage to you if you married my niece?”
He looked into her eyes, deciding to be truthful. “The prince has advised me to take a wife. I thought your niece might be willing to fill that role for me.”
“I see that you have given this a great deal of thought. But why Kassidy?”
“My family has caused a great deal of harm to your niece. I want to make it up to her in any way I can.” He dropped his gaze. “I feel I owe her that much.”
“Surely you are far too noble,” she said bitingly. “You want to marry my niece because of your guilt?”
“I prefer to say it’s for honor, rather than guilt. And, as for being noble, I would say it’s more selfish. Miss Maragon is from an old and respected family and would make a suitable duchess. She does not love me, so therefore would make no demands on me. And I would have a wife when I am ready for an heir. I like a well ordered life.”
Suddenly Lady Mary burst out laughing. “You don’t know my niece if you believe life with her would be peaceful. Be warned that she has a way of making her presence known. You met her—you should know that.”
“I admit she has intensity for one with so ... modest an appearance.”
“What?” Lady Mary said, straightening in her chair. “Kassidy? You think she’s unattractive? Are we thinking of the same girl?”
Raile hoped he had not offended her. “I beg your pardon, Lady Mary. In my long association with the army, I have grown accustomed to plain speaking. Let me assure you that Miss Maragon’s appearance is of no importance to me. Am I right in assuming she has no other prospects of marriage?”
“Why would you presume that?”
Raile looked uncomfortable. Surely Lady Mary knew that her niece was no beauty, and it was obvious that she was destitute. She did not seem to have much to offer a man. “Perhaps I was wrong.” He decided to be gallant. “Is there a young man she would prefer to marry?”
“Kassidy has lived a secluded life. There is no gentleman in her life,” Lady Mary admitted. “But, it’s difficult for me to believe there is no lady you fancy. I’m sure you know you are considered to be a most desirable catch, your grace.”
Raile smiled slightly. “Every man would like to think that’s true about himself.”
“It’s not difficult to hear glowing comments about you. One has only to approach a group of unmarried ladies at a ball to hear them speculate how fortunate they would be to catch your eye, while the gentlemen speak of your daring exploits as a hero.”
Raile had the strangest feeling Lady Mary was mocking him. “I have had little time to attend balls, and little liking of females who want only a title.”
“Surely, your grace, you underestimate your other ... attributes.”
Raile’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Can it be that you are trifling with me, Lady Mary?”
She caught her breath at the melting look in his dark eyes. She could only wonder how devastating he would be for a young and inexperienced girl like Kassidy.
“No, your grace. I was merely making a statement of fact. I am a wife who is content with my husband. We are very happy together.”
“You don’t think I’d make your niece happy, do you?” he observed shrewdly.
“On occasion someone will come along who is extraordinary in every way. Kassidy is just such a person. She has not known a great deal of happiness in her life—she needs to be cherished.”
“I’m sure she is all you say,” Raile agreed, thinking every aunt had a favorite. Kassidy obviously was hers.
The girl he had met had spirit, but he had seen nothing extraordinary about her.
“She is intelligent,” Lady Mary continued, “and has probably already deduced that your family was involved in her abduction. She may see an offer of marriage from you as an affront.” Lady Mary was certain her niece would never accept this arrogant man, who somehow felt it was his duty to make her his duchess as an atonement for his family’s misdeeds. “I will release you from any feelings of guilt concerning my niece. And we shan’t ever tell her about your proposal.”
“I cannot wish my guilt away. I would consider it an honor to have her as my wife.”
“Perhaps you should reconsider, your grace.” Lady Mary could not suppress a smile. “If Kassidy were your wife, she would lead you a merry chase.” She came to her feet in a whisper of silk. “I would like to see my niece at once. I have been most anxious about her well-being.”
Raile gave a curt nod. “I’ll have the housekeeper take you to her.” Suddenly his eyes were probing. “You do not think your niece will look upon me with favor?”
“If you want my advice, abandon your plans to marry Kassidy. She is not the person you believe her to be.”
“But you have no objections to my suit?”
She laughed with amusement. “None at all, your grace, but Kassidy will.”
17
Kassidy was drifting in a dreamless sleep when she smelled the sweet fragrance of roses that reminded her of Aunt Mary. A cool cheek was pressed against hers, and she opened her eyes, afraid she was still dreaming.
“You have come,” Kassidy whispered in a quivering voice. “Oh, Aunt Mary, you have found me.”
“Yes, dearest. I have come to take you home with me.”
The tears Kassidy had held back for so long now washed down her face. “I have been so frightened and alone. I cannot tell you the unspeakable things I have witnessed.”
Lady Mary clutched her niece to her. “You need never be afraid again.”
“Please take me away from this place,” she pleaded. “Don’t let that man near me.”
Lady Mary held Kassidy back and looked at her inquiringly. “What man do you mean?”
“The duke. He’s a monster!”
Her aunt motioned for several servants who had been waiting near the door to come forward. “Lift her and carry her gently,” she ordered, placing a robe about Kassidy. “And take care on the steps.”
Kassidy closed her eyes. At last she could sleep without fear.
Kassidy’s long ordeal had ended. In her aunt’s home, she felt safe from the long reach of the duke. She was propped against three fluffy pillows, and Aunt Mary sat beside her, noting how pale and ashen she was. Her once lustrous hair hung lankily, and her green eyes were dull, with no evidence of the spark of humor they had once held.
“My heart aches, dearest, for what you have had to endure.” She placed a spoon to Kassidy’s lips. “But you must put that behind you. Eat some of this broth,” Lady Mary said coaxingly.
When Kassidy refused, Lady Mary gave her a warning glance and the girl took a small sip.
Kassidy sighed. “I don’t want anything to eat, Aunt Mary.”
“But you haven’t eaten all day.”
Again Kassidy took the spoon in her mouth to appease her aunt.
“Was it very awful for you in Newgate?” Aunt
Mary asked, thinking it might help Kassidy to talk about her ordeal.
Kassidy shivered. “I don’t want to think about it.” Her voice rose hysterically. “I never want to remember what happened there.”
“If it is your desire, we need never mention it again. But I feel something deeper is bothering you—can I be mistaken?”
Kassidy turned her head away as her aunt tried to put the spoon to her mouth again. How could she tell her aunt what that horrible guard had done to her—no, she would not think about it, and she would tell no one her terrible secret.
“Please take more of the broth,” Aunt Mary coaxed. “How will you ever regain your strength if you don’t eat?”
“I don’t want to get well,” Kassidy said in a rare show of self-pity. “Mother and Father are dead, and now Abigail is gone. I have no reason to live.”
Lady Mary had never seen Kassidy so dejected. It was not like her to give up—she was a fighter, a survivor. It was apparent her spirit had been crushed, and she was only a shell of the beautiful young girl she had once been.
“Kassidy, you know Abigail would not have wanted you to grieve for her. She would want you to get well— to live a happy life.” She took Kassidy’s limp hand in hers. “You must fight this, Kassidy.”
Tears glistened on the tip of Kassidy’s eyelashes and then rolled down her cheek. She had no answer for her aunt, so she turned her head away.
Aunt Mary kissed Kassidy on the forehead. “You are wrong when you say you have no reason to get well. Have you forgotten Abigail’s daughter? She will need you—I need you.”
Kassidy began sobbing, and her aunt enfolded her in comforting arms.
“Oh, Aunt Mary, I have committed a grievous deed by placing Abigail’s innocent baby in that monster’s grasp. I suffer so, wondering at the fate of the child.” Kassidy dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “I must get the baby back.” Her eyes were frantic. “I will not rest until I hold her in my arms again.”
Aunt Mary smoothed Kassidy’s hair away from her face. “If we had the baby with us, would that make you happy?”
Kassidy nodded. “He . .. that monster—do you think he has harmed the child?”
“Kassidy, the duke is not the monster you suppose him to be. Don’t fear that he will harm the baby. It was he who found you in Newgate and brought you to his house.”
“Of course he found me, Aunt Mary,” Kassidy said in desperation. “He knew where to look for me because he had me taken to Newgate.”
Lady Mary shook her head. “We won’t talk about this now, Kassidy. I just want to assure you that the duke is not the source of your troubles. He is a man of honor, and there is much goodness in him. He served with Wellington and was commended for his bravery at Waterloo. He even received the Order of the Garter.”
There was a look of bewilderment on Kassidy’s face. “He served at Waterloo?” She tried to clear her head. “He could not have seen the war through to its conclusion?”
“Yes, he did, Kassidy. He was desperately wounded at Waterloo and was in a hospital in Belgium for many months. So severe were his injuries that it was believed he would die. In fact,” she added, “it seems I recall reading about his death in the Times.”
Kassidy wished her head would stop pounding. “I don’t understand. If the duke was with Wellington, how could he have been with Abigail? Perhaps he was home on furlough when he met her.”
Mary squeezed her niece’s hand and said in a kind voice, “Try to understand this, Kassidy. His grace never knew Abigail, and he was never her husband.”
Kassidy’s head was pounding, and she closed her eyes because the bright light in the room only made it ache unbearably. “If only I could think. Everything is mixed up in my head.”
“There, there, dearest,” Aunt Mary soothed. “You need not dwell on anything but getting well. When you have significantly recovered, we will talk on this again. All you need to remember now is that you have no reason to fear for Abigail’s baby. I have seen her, and she is doing well.”
“You saw her?”
“Indeed I did. She has the whole staff of servants at Ravenworth Castle as her slaves.”
Kassidy’s eyes were so heavy she couldn’t open them. “I am weary, Aunt Mary. May I sleep now?”
“Of course you may. But I will expect you to eat when you awaken.”
Aunt Mary removed two of the pillows from underneath Kassidy’s head and pulled the bed covers to her chin.
“I will try, Aunt Mary,” Kassidy murmured.
“There is something I want you to think about, dear. The duke has asked to see you. I believe he will be able to correct any misconceptions you may have about him.”
Kassidy’s eyes snapped open and widened with fear. “No! Never! Don’t let him come near me. I don’t ever want to see him again.”
Aunt Mary’s voice was soothing, “All right, dearest. Go to sleep now.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Kassidy shook her head until her limp hair swirled about her head. “Sometimes I have these ... dreadful nightmares.”
“Are you certain you wouldn’t like to talk about your ordeal at Newgate? My father was fond of saying it was easy to talk one’s troubles away with the right person. I have always found that to be true. I would like to be that person for you, Kassidy.”
A deep sob racked Kassidy’s body. “I cannot bear to think about that horrible place . . . and what happened to me there—I just can’t.”
“All right, dearest. Would you feel better if I sent for the baby?”
There was hope in Kassidy’s eyes. “If only ... if only I could hold Abigail’s baby in my arms and know that she has come to no harm.” Hope flamed in her eyes and then faded. “He would never allow me to have the child. He would withhold her from me as some new form of torture.”
Aunt Mary felt Kassidy’s forehead and realized she was feverish again. “Sleep now. I’ll see what I can do about the baby.”
A week passed, and with daily coaxing from her aunt, Kassidy began eating light meals.
One morning Kassidy awoke feeling stronger and was able to sit up in bed. The maid plaited her hair into a long braid to keep it from tangling. She then helped Kassidy bathe and dressed her in a powder-blue nightgown with pink ribbons at the throat and wrists.
Kassidy watched her aunt fluttering about the room, placing fresh flowers in bright-colored vases and tying back the curtains to let in the sunshine.
“Dearest Aunt Mary, how can I ever thank you for all you have done for me? I must have been a difficult patient at times. Surely I am a tiresome guest.”
Aunt Mary planted a kiss on Kassidy’s cheek. “Nonsense. And you aren’t a guest. This is your home.”
“Henry will never allow me to remain with you, Aunt Mary, though I wish he would,” Kassidy said wistfully. I’m sure he will be here soon, insisting I return to the country with him.”
“He has already indicated as much to me in a letter, Kassidy. I am determined to plead with him to let you live with me if it will help—but you know Henry.”
Kassidy’s eyes widened with dread. “Henry knows about me being in Newgate?”
“Yes, and being Henry, he believes it was your fault. I don’t understand why he is always so harsh with you. He allowed Abigail much more freedom than he did you.”
“I’m sure he is still angry that I ran away to be with Abigail.”
Aunt Mary’s face brightened. “We shall just have to keep telling him you are unfit for travel. I want to make the most of your time here. It’s been so long since I’ve had a young girl in the house.” She sighed. “I hardly see my daughter since she married and moved to Scotland.”
Kassidy was very close to tears, but she would not cry. “I thank you for allowing me to stay with you. I’ll try not to be a burden.”
“Nonsense, don’t even think it. Right now there is someone who has been waiting to see you.”
Kassidy’s hand went to her hair, and she knew she still looked frightfully
ill. “I don’t want to see anyone, Aunt Mary. Please don’t make me.”
“I believe you will want to see this person.”
Lady Mary motioned to someone who was in the hallway, just out of Kassidy’s sight.
Kassidy’s hand went to her throat as Mrs. Fitzwilliams entered, carrying the baby. Kassidy held out her hands to the tiny girl, and the housekeeper placed the child in her arms.
Kassidy could hardly swallow past the lump in her throat as she stared down at the baby. She had Abigail’s eyes and hair, as well as her delicate features. The chubby little hand curled about Kassidy’s finger, and she smiled through her tears.
“She’s beautiful.” She lifted the baby to her and kissed the tiny lips. “Oh, she is so dear. I love her so much. How could I have given her away?”
Mrs. Fitzwilliams dabbed at her eyes. “She’s a right hearty little baby. We at Ravenworth will miss her. But his grace believes she’ll be better off with you, miss.”
Kassidy’s eyes took on a defiant look. “I’ll not give her back to that man. He will never have her again,” she said fiercely.
Lady Mary exchanged glances with the housekeeper and motioned for her to leave.
Kassidy glanced down at the infant. Aunt Mary was right. The baby needed her. And when the child was older, only Kassidy would be able to tell her how much her mother had loved her.
The baby suddenly smiled and Kassidy’s heart swelled within her. She clasped the infant to her gently.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Aunt Mary?”
“Indeed she is,” Lady Mary agreed, dropping down on the bed and touching the child’s smooth cheek. “But she doesn’t yet have a name you know.”
“That’s right.” Kassidy was thoughtful for a moment. “What do you think we should call her?”
“I believe Abigail would have wanted you to be the one to name her—don’t you?”
Kassidy stroked the baby’s soft blond hair. “I think Abigail would have liked me to name her after our mother.”
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