An Exotic Heir
Page 19
Cassandra had always been there for him, supporting him when others turned their backs. And here she was again, dancing with him and smiling up at him as if he were the only man in the room.
She truly seemed happy to be with him. And with her next to him, he was the happiest man alive. He needed to show her. The urge to tell her right now just how much he loved her nearly overwhelmed him.
He watched her move gracefully through the steps of the dance, giggling at something the gentleman she was with said to her.
No, now was not the time. Now was not the moment he wanted. He shouldn’t tell her in public, and he shouldn’t just blurt it out to her either.
He wanted the moment he told Cassandra he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her to be the most wonderful moment in both of their lives.
When she said yes to him, when she told him out loud, and not just with a look of her eyes or a movement of her hand, just how much she loved him, that would be a moment to savor for the rest of his life. And he would savor it, just as he would savor her and treat her like the very special person that she was for the rest of their lives.
“Julian, you should take Miss Smithfield’s hand and turn her about,” Cassandra hissed at him, abruptly pulling him out of his daydream.
He immediately did as he was told, giving the poor Miss Smithfield his most apologetic smile. She did not look entirely convinced, but at least she did not scowl at him.
Julian was shocked by the number of looks he received after that dance. They were looks of appraisal and acceptance from many of the mamas of young ladies–they were very nearly the same looks they gave Merry.
Just as an experiment, he tried joining in a conversation with Cassandra’s friend, Mr. Corstairs, who was standing nearby. To his surprise, Julian was not turned away.
After a thorough discussion, dominated by Corstairs, on the merits of setting up a stud farm, Julian managed to turn the conversation.
“I say, would you mind terribly, introducing me to…” Julian quickly looked around the ballroom and picked a likely young lady, one whom he had seen dancing with many of the young bucks. “…to that young lady over there.” He nodded in her direction.
Corstairs looked over to where Julian had indicated. “Happy to! Although I must warn you, Miss Price-Liste is known for being in the market for a wealthy husband. Might get caught. I’d be careful if I were you.”
Julian smiled. He was certain that the young lady would not care if he were as rich as Prinny.
“I’ll take that risk,” was all he said to his companion, however.
Julian wasn’t sure if he was fortunate or not, but he soon found out that Corstairs had been absolutely correct. He was sized up and appraised by her mama within five minutes of being introduced, and by the end of their dance, invited to call upon her father!
The rest of the evening passed in a haze for Julian. He suddenly was as sought after as any young wealthy and titled gentleman present.
The one thing he distinctly recalled the next morning, however, was the amount of attention Lord Felbridge began to pay to Cassandra.
Julian didn’t like it, not one bit. And he especially didn’t like the way Cassandra seemed to revel in it.
Chapter Twenty
Cassandra could not believe it. Lord Felbridge calling at ten o’clock? But there it was, his card was in her hand and the footman was waiting for an answer.
She looked to Aunt Bradmore, who sat next to her at the breakfast table. “What do you suppose he wants?”
“At this hour of the morning, Cassandra, there is only one thing that a gentlemen wants. Clearly he is here to propose, and after his behavior last night, I am not overly surprised. The question is, what are you going to do?” She took a sip of her tea and waited for an answer.
Cassandra too drank some of her tea, but only as an excuse to postpone answering her cousin’s question. She turned to the waiting footman. “Show his lordship into the drawing room and tell him I will be with him momentarily.”
She then turned back to Aunt Bradmore. “There is no question that I shall do as I have been planning.”
“But is that what you really want, Cassandra? Think about it, my dear. You could be married to a viscount,” Aunt Bradmore said, as if trying to tempt a child with a sweet.
Cassandra frowned. “I could care less if he were a duke. I will not marry Lord Felbridge.” With that, she stood up and went to hear what the man had to say for himself.
“My dear Miss Renwick, how good it is of you to see me so early in the morning!” Lord Felbridge greeted her, taking two long strides across the room to grasp hold of her hands.
“Lord Felbridge! I must admit to some curiosity as to what would cause you to call so early,” she said, trying to extract her hands from his grip.
“It is nothing short of extreme emotion, I assure you. An emotion so strong I have hardly been able to sleep for it. You must excuse me, but indeed, I have never felt this way before. I hope I am not frightening you by my exuberance?” he asked, looking down at her hands, which she had finally managed to pull out from his.
“Er, no. Not at all. Won’t you sit down?” She moved to two straight-backed chairs near the fire and sat in one.
Lord Felbridge sat in the other, but so close to the edge of the chair that he looked like he might fall out of it at any moment.
“Miss Renwick… Cassandra, if I may?”
She gave a slight nod.
“I fear I have wronged you—and only last night did I realize how grievously.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. When the prince acknowledged you, I realized what a fool I had been. You see, I have been suppressing my true feelings for you because I thought you not quite my peer. Your father is… well, he has a fine position in India, from what I understand, but his birth is not of the highest stature. I felt forced by social expectations to turn away from you—to put aside my feelings and to seek out some other young lady of higher birth for my bride.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand and rushed on, “But now… now I see that I have no reason to think less of you—and I can, with clear conscience, ask you what I have been longing to for so very long.”
He dropped down onto his knee in front of Cassandra. Taking her hand in his, he said, “Cassandra, my love, please, would you look kindly upon this fool and agree to be my wife?”
Fool indeed. She would be a fool to believe all of the nonsense he had just spouted. How dare he claim to have loved her from the very beginning! She knew it was not so. On the other hand, she was not entirely sure that he did not believe himself to be in love with her now.
And that was all that she needed.
She smiled sweetly at the man before her. “Lord Felbridge…”
“John,” he urged.
“I’m sorry?”
“John. My Christian name is John.”
“Oh! Er, John, as much as I appreciate your very kind offer, I am afraid I simply cannot agree to marry a man who would let society dictate his feelings and actions in this way. That society would matter to such an extent that you would put aside the love you feel for me, shows how little you value that love and how little you value me. What matters is not what society thinks about a person, but the person inside and your feelings for them.”
Cassandra stood up. Looking down at Lord Felbridge, still on his knee before her, she gave him her final blow. “I deserve better than you, Lord Felbridge. I deserve true love.”
Lord Felbridge stood up quickly. He looked stunned. “But…I do! You ungrateful…” He took a step back as if he couldn’t stand to be near her.
“You have just made a huge mistake, Miss Renwick. You have turned down probably the best marriage proposal you will ever receive! Do you really think that Hawksmore will offer for you? He will not! He knows his place and will not allow emotion to rule his head.”
Cassandra shook her head, amazed at how deeply she must have hurt him
for him to lash out at her like this. But he mistook her meaning.
“You will see. Hawksmore won’t marry you.” He gave her an angry smile. ”And I would seriously doubt that Merrick could be brought up to scratch either, so you have just passed up your best opportunity to make an advantageous marriage.”
“It is not an advantageous marriage I am looking for, Lord Felbridge, but one based on love and mutual respect. Good morning, sir. The footman will see you out.” She raised her chin a notch and waited for him to take his leave.
“Then you will be waiting a very long time,” he said, before giving her a slight bow and walking out the door.
“Well?” Olivia was waiting in Cassandra’s room when she returned there.
“Well, the deed is done. I have turned him down.”
“And what was Lord Felbridge’s reaction?”
Cassandra shrugged. “It was just as I had expected. He was upset. He thought himself to be in love with me, made a grand speech about it, and then I told him that I would not marry him.”
Olivia studied her. One side of her lips curled up into a grim smile. “Somehow you don’t seem as happy as one would expect from someone whose carefully planned scheme has just come to fruition.”
Cassandra dropped down into a chair and stared into the empty fireplace. “I don’t suppose I am. I should be, but somehow I find no great pleasure in hurting Lord Felbridge, even though he hurt me.”
Resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and her head in her hand, she said quietly, “And now I have to do the same to Julian.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Julian looked magnificent. He was the epitome of a sophisticated man about town. It nearly broke Cassandra’s heart. She just didn’t understand why he had taken to dressing this way.
She had just turned down Felbridge’s suit because he cared more for society’s opinion than for his own feelings for her. Could it be possible that Julian was the same way? Had the social success he had enjoyed at Lady Wynworth’s ball not been enough for him?
She watched as he was approached by matchmaking mamas, all wanting to introduce him to their title-seeking daughters. He bowed and was obviously as charming as he knew how, and the quiet ache in Cassandra’s heart grew in intensity.
It wasn’t that she wanted him for herself, she forcefully reminded herself. She was not interested in Julian. She was not in love with him. She only wanted revenge.
Yes, perhaps if she kept telling herself this she would eventually believe it. And perhaps all of the beautiful young ladies with whom Julian was dancing would not fall immediately in love with him as she had.
And perhaps the sky would fall down.
Cassandra watched him for as much of the evening as she could. It was difficult, as she was also rather sought after—dancing and being paid court to by any number of gentlemen. But despite her own popularity, she could not find any enjoyment in the evening or keep her eyes from straying toward Julian.
Her one consolation was that he seemed to be having the same problem. As their eyes met yet again across the dance floor, Julian finally made a move.
His journey around the room was frustratingly slow, as he stopped to speak to various people along the way. Finally, however, he reached her side.
“Miss Renwick, I could not help but notice that you are looking a little flushed. Would you care to take a breath of fresh air?” he said, stepping in between Lord Hawksmore and Mr. Corstairs.
“How very thoughtful of you, my lord. I would appreciate that.” She put her hand into his outstretched one and allowed him to lead her away.
“I say, Miss Renwick, had you not promised the next dance to me?” Mr. Corstairs objected.
“I am sorry, sir, you will have to forgive me,” she said, pausing briefly to give him an apologetic smile. Her desire to be with Julian overwhelmed her, even to the point of being rude to poor Mr. Corstairs. He would forgive her, she was sure of it.
The garden was cool and dark as Cassandra allowed Julian to slowly walk her down a pathway, away from the hot and noisy house.
They stopped just under the broad branches of a large oak tree. The setting reminded her forcefully of the last time they had stood together under a tree—near the Hindu temple on that beautiful day when he had shown her just how much he had cared.
“You are looking beautiful this evening, Cassandra,” Julian said, taking her hands in his own.
Somewhere along the way he had taken off his gloves. Cassandra wished she could have done the same in order to feel the rough maleness of his hands as she had when he’d touched her under the banyan tree. As it was, she could feel the heat of his hands even through her own gloves.
“And you are dressed as impeccably as you have been since you entered London society.”
He nodded, smiling down at her, clearly taking her words for a compliment, although she was not sure that she meant them as one. She was still worrying about the implication of his clothes, although it was becoming difficult to remember much of anything with his strong male presence so close to her.
But then he took another step nearer, and she could smell his delicious sandalwood scent.
It pushed all of her fears and thoughts to the back of her mind.
“Your sari-inspired dresses seem to have become quite the rage,” he said, his deep voice sending small shivers through her.
“It is funny how people have copied them, isn’t it?”
“It is because you look so elegant in them, just as you did in the sari you wore to the bazaar in Calcutta.”
Cassandra smiled, knowing that she must be flushing at his praise. But she was truly thrilled that he still remembered that day and all of their time together in Calcutta. She still did. They were the best days of her life—a time when she could truly be herself.
“It is so much nicer to be here in England, though,” he continued. “And to be here with you.”
“Julian…”
“I love you, Cassandra,” he said with such fervent honesty that Cassandra wanted to cry with joy.
“The only thing that could make me any happier right now,” he continued, “is if you would agree to be my wife.”
“Julian, you don’t know how long I have waited to hear you say that! You don’t know how difficult it has been for me to see you as you are now and know how much I loved you.”
Then, to her dismay, she felt tears slipping down her cheeks. “This is so hard for me,” she whispered.
“It shouldn’t be hard at all…”
“No, Julian, it is. I loved you so much when we were in Calcutta.”
“As I love you. And now we can marry—there are no more barriers between us. Everything will be just as it should be.”
Cassandra covered her face with her hands. She loved him so much, and yet she had to spurn him.
How could she do this to him?
“Cassandra, now that I have become accepted into society, it will be perfect. I have a title, money, social standing…,” he said, taking her hands again.
Cassandra caught her breath. What was he saying?
“We can have a big society wedding,” he continued hurriedly. “We can invite everyone, even Prinny…”
Cassandra jumped back. She felt a sharp pain slice through her head.
Through the fog of her surprise and pain, she lashed out at him. “Is that all that matters to you now? Is that all that you care about? Prinny? And what society thinks?” She pulled her hand out of his.
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“No! I don’t care about the ton.”
“But the way you behave… the way you dress… your beaux…” Julian was clearly as confused by her behavior as she was by his.
“I did that to get revenge on Lord Felbridge for calling me a nobody. Why have you fawned over society?”
“For you. Because… because I thought that was what you wanted.”
“What I want is the man I fell in love with in Calcutta. I want the real Julian
Ritchie, not this, this coxcomb that you have become.”
“But this isn’t the real me. You know that.”
“Do I? How do I know that? You’ve lied to me before, Julian. You used me when we were in Calcutta…”
“Cassandra, I am telling you the truth! I love you. I only did this for you.”
“How do I know that, Julian? How do I know that this time you are being honest with me?”
Julian took a step back from her. He had nothing to say.
A sob broke from Cassandra, and she turned and ran away before she embarrassed herself entirely, leaving Julian behind in the deepening gloom of the trees.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fungy and Merry found Julian more than halfway through a bottle of brandy when they came looking for him at his rooms later that evening.
“Wondered what happened to you this evening. Wanted to have a word on how you deal with Brummell at Lady Jersey’s party. Be the making of you,” Fungy said, helping himself to what was left of Julian’s brandy.
“Sorry for leaving without a word,” Julian said, barely looking up from his drink.
Merry and Fungy exchanged a curious look.
“All right, out with it,” Merry said, his casual lounging against the mantel piece belying the concern in his voice.
Julian looked over at him and then finished the rest of the brandy in his glass. With a grim smile on his face he said, “I proposed to Miss Renwick this evening.”
“Turn you down?” Fungy said, clearly surprised at this news.
Julian briefly related all that had happened between him and Cassandra since they had first met in Calcutta and then all that she had said to him that evening.
Fungy was left with his mouth hanging open. “Just because you want to be accepted by the ton and wear fashionable clothes doesn’t mean you’re not being honest,” he said, indignantly.
Merry gave a little laugh. “Indeed, Fungy is right, although I can see how she could still be angry with you for having used her.”