by Pam Mingle
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “Is there some difficulty in talking with the man?”
Adam sighed. He supposed he’d better come clean to Jack. And that included everything, even the false betrothal to Cass. “When we met at White’s, I mentioned my father wanted to see me.”
When Jack didn’t say anything, Adam went on. “The news wasn’t good. He owes Broxton thousands of pounds in gambling debts.”
“Christ almighty.”
“There’s more.”
Jack’s brow shot up. “Go on.”
“Sir William wants me to marry his daughter, Eleanor. The one who’s here at the house party. If I agree, he’ll forgive my father’s debts, and the old man can start putting money back into the estate, which desperately needs it. You’d be shocked to see how ramshackle it looks, Jack.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
Adam took a deep breath and said, “I told him I was engaged to Cass.”
When Adam’s comment registered, Jack leaped to his feet. “The hell you say.”
Adam put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Just hear me out. I knew I had to have a rock solid reason why I couldn’t marry Broxton’s daughter. Being engaged to someone else seemed unassailable, and Cass sprang to mind.” She sprang to mind a great deal lately. And that wasn’t all that sprang. Visions of what had happened in the conservatory the night before…but he shouldn’t be thinking of that. At all.
Jack began pacing. “There wasn’t a single other woman in that bacon-brained head of yours? You had to choose my sister, who has already suffered through one disastrous betrothal? Bloody hell, Adam. What were you thinking?”
“That’s what is at issue, isn’t it? I didn’t have time to think.”
“How did you leave it?”
“I agreed to invite Eleanor to the party, but said under no circumstances would I consider breaking my engagement.” His friend was watching him closely, and he had a look on his face Adam didn’t trust.
“I say, old man,” Jack began. Adam had a feeling he knew where this was going.
“Have you never thought about marrying my sister? She’s a damn sight too good for you, but you two used to be so close. I’ve always suspected she harbored a secret tendre for you.”
Adam’s mouth went dry. His throat seemed coated in ashes. “Beg pardon, but what did you just say?”
“You heard me. Why not offer for Cass? Make it real instead of a sham. She’s a wonderful girl, and would be an excellent mother. Because of what happened with Bentley, she’s a bit reserved, but she could be coaxed out of that, given time. And affection, naturally.” He hesitated before going on. “You do have affection for her, do you not?”
Jack deserved to know his feelings regarding marriage. He had the feeling that after last night, Cass already did. “Of course I do. I’m fond of Cass. Always have been. But marriage is out of the question for me.”
Jack lifted a brow. “But why? Given your political aspirations, I rather thought you’d be seriously considering taking a wife. Someone who would make a proper hostess for all those dinners and soirees you are going to have to put on once you’re an MP.”
Adam avoided a direct answer. “I’m looking for a wealthy widow. Somebody like Leonora.” When Jack grimaced, Adam continued. “Not her, of course. But a woman experienced with planning dinner parties and balls, and one who would be content with…something less than marriage.”
“What if that plan doesn’t work out?”
“I may convince Deborah to take on the role.”
A corner of Jack’s mouth ticked up and he eyed his friend skeptically. “Opposed to love, are you?” he asked. “Just on principle, or has something happened to put you off?” His sarcasm stung, as Adam knew he’d intended it to.
For the first time, Adam felt his temper rise. He fought against it. “Not at all, for most men. Just not for me.” The circumstances of his parents’ marriage were not known to anyone, even Jack, and Adam wasn’t about to explain. Naturally his friend, probably half the ton, if he were honest with himself, knew his mother and father lived apart, and that Adam and his father were estranged, but that was the extent of their knowledge. Nor did he wish to discuss his certainty of becoming, as he grew older, like his father. The less said the better, about any of it, in Adam’s opinion.
The rumors and innuendo had always been out there, though. Maybe Jack knew more than Adam believed, and he was goading his friend to make a clean breast of it. But Adam refused to rise to the bait.
“By God, you’re a hard headed bastard,” Jack said. He muttered something under his breath and lowered himself into a chair. “So what do you expect me to do?”
Adam hesitated. A plan had been forming all along; he simply hadn’t wanted to come out with it. He’d need Jack’s help to put it into operation. “What if I asked Cass to pretend we’re betrothed? Just until after the election. Then, after a few months, she would cry off.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. What possible reason could she have for crying off? She, of all people.”
“Women cry off all the time. Nobody need know the reason.”
“You know the gossips, Adam. They’ll have no compunction about asking her why. Especially after what happened with Bentley.”
Adam waved an impatient hand at his friend. “We have plenty of time to come up with a believable reason, one that won’t reflect badly on Cass in any way.”
“Of course, this is presuming she’d go along with this scheme. I have a strong suspicion she would refuse.” He lowered his head into his hands. When he finally looked up at Adam, he said, “As well she should. This can only hurt her.”
Jack was right and Adam knew it. Feeling defeated, he kept his mouth shut. He would simply have to admit the lie to his father. It didn’t mean he’d have to marry the Broxton girl. He could show an interest in her—hell, he already had—and treat her with respect. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy Sir William. And the more he thought about it, using Cass to further his political ambitions seemed crass. Jack’s voice startled him out of his reverie, but it was his words that shocked.
“Ask her.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Explain the situation and ask her. If she has any sense, she’ll say no. But Cass has a mind of her own, and she’s quite interested in politics. It may be that I’ve got it all wrong and she will want to help you.”
“And I had just concluded it was a bad idea,” Adam said.
“I didn’t tell you, but she was miffed that we didn’t inform her of your plans to stand for election, that she only found out at the dinner when everybody else did. She likes to be included in political discourse. You heard her talking about the Perceval assassination—I’d wager she knew more about it than most men in attendance.”
Adam chuckled. “Probably more than most men in England. So you’re withdrawing your objections?”
“I don’t like it, and I hope she turns you down. But I agreed to support you. Put the idea to her and see what she says.”
Adam was no longer convinced that Cass wouldn’t be hurt, maybe irreparably. But she might see it otherwise, and desperation forced his hand. “Agreed. I’ll need you to be present when I ask her.”
Jack rose, a dark expression stealing across his face. “One stipulation, Grey. You must act the gentleman in all your dealings with my sister. Do you take my meaning?”
Adam stared, not certain he did.
“Come on man, you know what I’m talking about. If I see you, or hear of you, taking liberties with Cass, you can be sure I’ll call you out. Or I may not bother with that. I may just strangle you on the spot.”
Adam was speechless. If Jack knew about the liberties he’d already taken with Cass, he’d be a dead man. It was possible that Jack’s admonitions would give him the strength to keep his distance from her. Though being in the same house with her, seeing her every day would be torture if he agreed to this demand. Sadly, Adam couldn’t seem to control himself when she w
as near. He was weak, cowardly, and obviously ruled by his cock. What if his rampant desire for her was an indication he was turning into his father?
“Don’t just stand there with your mouth open. Do you understand? Your engagement will be a sham, so no stolen kisses, secret embraces, or touching of any kind.”
“Fine,” Adam bit out. “But people may think it a little strange if we’re not the least bit affectionate with each other.”
“They can go to the devil,” Jack said, glaring at Adam.
“You’re being unreasonable, but of course I’ll honor your conditions.” What choice was there? Adam offered his hand, and they shook on it.
Afterward, when Jack had left, Adam moved to stand by the window behind his desk. What on earth had he gotten himself into? How ironic, that he would be “betrothed” to Cass and instead of bringing them closer, it would drive them apart. He half hoped Cassie would turn him down, because that would be the end of it. He might be done for politically, but at least he wouldn’t have a guilty conscience. If he put her out of his mind, perhaps he could forget about his chilling fear that the older he grew, the more Benjamin Grey’s tendencies were taking root in him.
Chapter Thirteen
After a light meal, the group made ready for their excursion. Cass had not been part of the decision to explore the Cowdray ruins, but she had long wanted to visit the site, which had burned down sometime in the last twenty years. It was said that the park, and the ruins themselves, were stunning.
Adam was not present at the meal, but when she walked outside wearing her new midnight blue riding habit, she glimpsed him standing outside the stables, helping some of the other ladies at the mounting block. But it was Jack who shouted her name and motioned to her.
“Over here, Cass!”
Obligingly, she strolled toward her brother, who held the reins of a sweet looking little mare. “This is Minerva,” he said. “A good mount for you, I think.”
Cass had no way of judging, so she would have to trust Jack. She was no horsewoman; in fact, she currently had little opportunity to ride and did not sit a horse with any confidence. As a child, she’d always preferred to ride pillion behind Jack or Adam, and neither of her parents seemed to care that she wasn’t developing skills as a rider. The trip to Cowdray would seem like nothing to experienced riders, but to her it would be daunting. She knew it was eight or so miles, so a sixteen-mile trip altogether. She dreaded it.
“I can see by your expression that you are doubting your ability, but have no fear. I’ve been assured by the stable boys that Minerva is docile, but very responsive.”
“Ah, yes. Well, the best I can hope for is that she is also a good follower,” Cass said, rolling skeptical eyes at her brother.
And then another, deeper voice intruded. “I’ll assist Cass. Why don’t you do the same for your fiancée?” Adam said to Jack. When had he approached? He could be as silent as a breath of air, and just as ticklish.
Cass couldn’t be sure, but she thought Jack gave Adam a hard stare before he turned to help Jenny. What had warranted that? She had no reason to believe her brother suspected anything improper had occurred between her and Adam.
He gave her his most winning smile. Why did he have to be so handsome? And why can’t I be immune to it? “Good morning, Cassie. That’s a charming riding habit.”
“Adam.” She was determined to be curt. Even though Cass was pleased he’d noticed her smart new costume, trimmed with gold braid and frogging, she wasn’t about to succumb to the first compliment he threw her way. Refusing to look at him, she got on with the business of mounting the horse. Unfortunately, to do so she had to place her hand on Adam’s shoulder. Perched on the mounting block, she set a foot in the stirrup and pushed hard against him as he lifted her into the saddle. No man should have such solid, broad shoulders. Shoulders one could lean on. Lean into. Stop it, Cass. Don’t be a ninny.
After arranging her skirts, she hooked her right leg over the horn and turned her body so she was facing forward. Only then did she look down at her left foot, which now hung suspended above the stirrup. Still, she didn’t speak, only waited for Adam to adjust the length for her. To her chagrin, he did no such thing, but turned and marched off without a word.
“Adam! Where do you think you’re going?” Cass knew her voice bordered on shrill, revealing her displeasure with her host to all and sundry, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t ride all the way to Cowdray without her foot in the stirrup. Cass caught a few questioning glances, but she ignored them.
He immediately changed course, circling back to her. “I thought that might force you to speak to me,” he said.
“Yes, well so it did. You know I can’t ride with my foot dangling.”
“Did it not occur to you that your brother would have helped,” Adam said sardonically, “or one of the grooms?”
Cass’s cheeks warmed. Why hadn’t she thought of that instead of humiliating herself by yelling at him? She felt his hand snake under her skirt and grasp her ankle. How dare he, in front of everybody? She knew he was trying to rattle her.
“Raise your skirt for me, my dear,” he said, “so I can get to the stirrup.” Of course, he made it sound as though he wanted to get to something else entirely. He chuckled, and Cass narrowed her eyes at him. But she hurriedly did as he asked, hoping no curious onlookers would notice. When Adam finished the adjustment, he looked up at her. She recognized by the way his eyes brushed her face gently that he wanted to make peace with her. That he was attempting to tease her out of her hurt feelings. She’d never met a man who could switch from flirtatious to serious so quickly. But she wasn’t ready to forgive him for last night. Woodenly, she said, “Thank you, sir.”
After testing the tightness of the girths, he looked back down for a final check of the stirrup. Did he yank the strap especially hard, or was it her imagination? Cass threaded the reins through her fingers and watched him walk away.
The ride to Cowdray began uneventfully. Various members of the party slowed their horses to ride with Cass, since she remained entrenched at the rear of the group. Exceedingly grateful that she hadn’t yet flown out of the saddle, Cass didn’t particularly care. She enjoyed watching the others, though it did not bring her any pleasure when Adam rode alongside Miss Broxton—who appeared to be a skilled rider—for a stretch. There seemed to be competition for a place beside the young girl. When Atherton joined them, Adam rode off. Next up was Hugh, the only one who made Miss Broxton laugh. And from what Cass was able to observe, she actually talked to him. More than one or two sentences. Say what you would about Hugh, he seemed to have an unerring knack for putting people at their ease.
When Jack and Adam cantered ahead, Jenny dropped back to ride alongside Cass. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
“Ha! Are you worried about me?”
Jenny denied it, but looked as if she might break into laughter. They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then Jenny said, “What’s going on between you and Adam?”
“Nothing!” Cass said, much louder than she really needed to. Nervously, she reached a hand up to adjust her hat, and the reins, which she had so carefully threaded through her fingers, fell out of her grasp. Giving Jenny a panic-stricken look, Cass made a futile grab for them.
“Carriage approaching,” someone shouted.
In seconds it was upon them, traveling at a fearsome speed. Minerva, spooked both by the other horses and the rattling conveyance, bolted. They’d been jogging along at a slow trot until then. Cass knew she couldn’t keep her seat for long at this pace, especially without the reins. She grabbed onto the pommel. Think, Cass! What did she know about slowing a horse? She was too unnerved to gather her wits. Trees, hedges, fences all seemed to fly by, even though she knew her speed couldn’t have increased that drastically.
Cass was dimly aware of surging past other riders and glimpsing shock on their faces. She ought to feel humiliated, but she only felt fear. Her mouth had gone so dry she could bare
ly swallow. Her brain seemed frozen; the only thing that registered was the constant pounding of Minerva’s hooves. One of two things was bound to happen—the mare would stop of her own accord, or Cass would go flying off.
She was suddenly conscious of a rider approaching from behind, on her offside. Risking a glance back, she saw that it was Adam. Oh! Thank God. He was all concentration and determination. Drawing slightly ahead of her, he leaned down and caught hold of the reins. Cass was disgusted with herself for noticing the play of his shoulders and back muscles.
“Whoa, girl,” Adam said while gently pulling back on Minerva’s reins. Skillfully, he slowed his own mount while coaxing hers to a gradual halt.
Cass was so relieved she felt faint. Spots danced before her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Adam asked, his brow furrowed. Beads of perspiration shone on his forehead.
“A little shaken up,” she said. “I’ll be fine once I’m off this horse.”
…
Adam dismounted and lifted her from the saddle. Cass’s face was pale and she was trembling all over. He had to fight down the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her tightly. Just to comfort her, of course. “Let’s find you somewhere to sit,” he said, taking her elbow and steering her toward a grove of trees.
“Water!” he shouted, “and bring a blanket.” A footman rushed forward and handed him a jug. Another stepped in to spread a blanket over the grass. Adam helped Cass to sit, then held the jug to her lips while she took a few sips.
By this time Jack and Jenny had joined them. The others hovered at a respectful distance, waiting to make sure Cass was unharmed.
