by Pam Mingle
“Worse than I expected, but you need only concern yourself with the fact that I told him I was betrothed. To you.” He watched her, gauging her reaction.
Cass felt something sink inside her. Was this some kind of monstrous joke? Perhaps she had misunderstood, or hadn’t heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Let me be perfectly clear. My father is in debt up to his ears, and the person who holds his vowels and mortgages is Sir William Broxton. He as much as promised the man that I would offer for his daughter in exchange for his debts being forgiven. I told my father I was engaged to you so that he would not press me to wed Miss Broxton.”
“To me,” Cass repeated dumbly. “Why didn’t you simply refuse to do it instead of lying?”
“I tried to, I even suggested that the girl marry Hugh. Apparently Sir William wants me. I needed an absolutely unimpeachable reason to refuse. I wasn’t about to trade marriage for a seat in Commons, especially since I don’t plan to wed. Ever.”
Oh. If she’d been in any doubt, that statement cleared things up. Keeping her voice even, she said, “But doesn’t he control the seat you want? How do you expect to gain his support if you don’t wed his daughter?”
“He can hardly fault me for already being betrothed, nor expect me to break off my engagement to gain his approval. That should put an end to his demands. But if he finds out I lied so I wouldn’t be forced to marry Eleanor, he’ll never accept me as his candidate.” He threw the piece of rubble to the ground and moved closer to her. “I know I’ve no right to ask it of you, but would you agree to go along with this ruse until after the election?”
Cass bit down on her bottom lip, hard. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But she would do neither. Keeping her emotions in check was paramount. Her hands clasped the window ledge with a ferocity that would no doubt break the skin. There must have been a dozen ladies of the ton he could have named, ladies who would have thought it a great lark to agree to such a plan, but when pressed, he’d named her. Had he assumed that she was so besotted with him, she would be the easiest one to persuade?
Now she was the one who stalled. Keep asking questions. Be rational. “And if I agree? What then?”
“We keep up the deception until after the election, at which time you will cry off. We would need to make a betrothal announcement, both here to the guests, and in the newspapers.” His hand reached out and grasped one of hers, forcing her to let loose of the ledge. “We would have to act the part of a betrothed couple.”
Turning her face away from him, she couldn’t prevent a laugh from bursting out. But there was no humor in it. “Oh, Adam, did you consider for one moment the repercussions for me? What this would cost me? Another failed engagement. Another reason for me to be shunned by society. It would end any chance I might have for marriage and a family.”
“Yes,” he said emphatically. “Of course I did. And decided I should not ask this of you, but your brother—”
“Jack? Jack was in on this?”
Cass was pleased to see that Adam looked ashamed. “We—we were talking about my dilemma when the idea occurred to me. He thought it was a terrible notion, for the reasons you just named, and said he wouldn’t allow it. And upon consideration, I agreed. I felt it could only lead to further pain for you. But suddenly, unexpectedly, Jack said, ‘Ask her.’ I had decided not to pursue it, but then he said those two words. ‘Ask her.’ So, I’m asking.”
Cass didn’t know what to say. She heard laughter and shouts from far off and could tell by the slant of the sun that the hour was growing late. And still she made no answer.
They both spoke at once. “Cass—”
“Only imagine, I fancied you wanted my political advice! Silly me.” Cass found she could not look at him directly, so again she turned her head to the side. “It seems this is the best you can do to involve me in your election.”
“It isn’t like that, Cassie,” Adam said.
Cass’s fragile hold on her self-control was slipping away, and she could no longer pretend she wasn’t hurt and angry. “Isn’t it? ‘Keep Cass in her place. The best I can get from her is to pretend she’s a love-struck spinster whose dream finally came true. Nobody would have any trouble believing that.’”
“I’ve never viewed you that way, Cass. Never. And of course I would want you involved in every aspect of my election because I value your opinions, your ideas, your knowledge.”
Cass jumped down from her perch on the ledge, landing hard on the uneven surface and stinging the soles of her feet. “But only if I give my consent to this scheme.”
He looked miserable, like a man at war with himself. “Yes. No.” Holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender, he finally said, “I don’t know.”
She nodded once, with finality. “Our party will be wondering where we are.” She’d decided not to give him an answer. Let him stew. She brushed past him, leaving him to follow behind her. Once outside, Cass saw that the others were indeed ready to leave, some already mounted. But her brother was pacing nervously, no doubt fighting the urge to go looking for her. The carriage Adam had summoned awaited, and he quickly moved toward it.
He helped her in and saw she was settled. Neither of them had spoken since they’d left their sequestered chamber.
“Cassie—”
“No, don’t say anything,” she said, cutting him off. He nodded, stepped back, and slammed the door. She thought it sounded like betrayal.
Chapter Fifteen
Adam cornered Jack at breakfast and asked him to come to the library after he’d finished eating. When his friend was settled in the chair in front of the desk, Adam got right to the point. “Yesterday at Cowdray, I spilled the beans to Cass about the lie I told my father, and I asked whether she’d be willing to go along with it until after the election.” Adam looked down and began to fiddle with his penknife. “She was not pleased.”
Jack looked murderous. “I told you from the start it was a bad idea.”
“But when I wanted to back off, you insisted we let her decide! Why? Why didn’t you tell me to go to hell?”
Jack crossed his legs at the knee. “Because I’m a fool, I guess.” Narrowing his eyes at Adam, he said, “I thought you wanted me there when you asked her. I take it she refused?”
“She hasn’t given me an answer yet.”
Jack lifted his shoulders. “You’ve asked. Now give Cass some time to decide.”
“I’ll be lucky if she even deigns to speak to me again.” Odd that he hadn’t been agonizing over the election and what would be a missed opportunity for him if Cass refused, which she absolutely would. What he had been agonizing over instead was a missed opportunity with Cass. He found that he’d been having a great deal of difficulty banishing the false proposal from his thoughts. Banishing her from his thoughts. Even taking Jack’s caveat into account, the idea that he and Cass could behave like an engaged couple made him smile. Made his blood heat. Jack couldn’t watch them every minute of the day, could he? Look what they’d done already, Jack be damned.
“If you weren’t so stubborn about marriage…” When Adam glowered at him, Jack did not finish his thought. “Look, old man, do you want me to talk to her?”
Adam didn’t even have to think about that. “No. She’ll either speak to me about it or not. If she doesn’t, I’ll take her silence as a ‘no.’ I’m not going to press her; nor should you.”
“Fair enough,” Jack said before taking himself out of doors for archery.
…
Cass rose stiff and sore from yesterday’s ride. She and Adam had not exchanged a single word last evening. She’d slept poorly, ruminating throughout the night about the false betrothal. At one moment furious with Adam for having the gall to ask such a thing of her, at the next wondering why her name had rolled so easily off his tongue. Did he like her? More than like her? But he’d said clearly, leaving no room for doubt, that he would never marry. As though it was some moral imperative or a guiding principle o
f his life.
Yesterday it had seemed easy to avoid a response. Adam’s revelation had been a surprise, and she’d been sad and angry. She still was. She didn’t see a future with Adam after the house party, so she supposed she could simply pretend the whole thing had never happened. But Jack’s involvement changed everything. He would insist she settle the matter, and probably rightly so. She must give Adam an answer.
After a breakfast of toast and tea, Cass felt ready, albeit reluctant, to face the day. Agnes helped her with her toilette, and then she ventured downstairs. The house was quiet, deserted.
“Where is everyone?” Cass asked the footman posted in the entryway.
“Most are at the archery butts, miss.”
He opened the door for her. It was overcast, and she could feel the humidity before she set foot outside. That would wreak havoc on her hair. She could already feel it crinkling up.
“Cassandra!”
She paused in mid-step. Oh, no. Cousin Louisa. They’d seen very little of each other since their arrival. Louisa had left Cass to her own devices, and Cass noticed her cousin actually seemed to be enjoying herself, especially while playing piquet with the other chaperones. Yesterday she had chosen to stay home while the younger set visited the ruins.
“Cousin.” She tried to put some warmth into her voice.
“Had a lie in this morning, did you?”
Why did she make it sound like sleeping a bit longer than usual was a punishable offense? “I slept later than I intended.”
“I’ve been neglecting you of late. Before you venture out, I wish to speak to you.”
Cass averted her eyes so her cousin wouldn’t see what she thought of that idea. “Very well.” And then she waited, hoping Louisa would be quick and whatever she had to say could be done standing where they were. She expected a short lecture on the cut of her dress, or the way she’d been having Agnes style her hair.
“We’ll go to the drawing room.”
Resigned, Cass followed the older woman down the hall. When they’d settled themselves on the sofa, Louisa got started. “I warned you about setting your cap for Adam. But it seems as if you’ve not heeded my advice, and so I must caution you once again. You are making yourself look foolish, and in the end you will be hurt.”
Cass’s jaw dropped. What had her cousin seen or heard to make her suspicious? And who else thought she looked foolish, besides Louisa?
“Oh, don’t look so shocked. I, and probably all the guests, saw Adam follow you from the room the other night. And observed that you did not return.”
“I-I went out for a breath of air. I never saw Adam.”
“Lie if you must, but I know the truth. I caught a glimpse of you entering your bedchamber. Your hair looked mussed and your gown wrinkled.”
How dare she? “What are you implying?” The fact that she was right didn’t make her inferences any less insulting.
“Must I spell it out?”
Botheration! The woman had the eyes of a cat on the prowl. Cass should have known better than to lie to her, with her annoying knack for flushing out the truth. She couldn’t very well admit to the lie, however, so she forged ahead. “I’d been out walking, Cousin. It was a windy night. And my dress was wrinkled because I’d been wearing it for several hours.” This was all true, actually.
“Hmph.” Louisa cocked her head and gave Cass a knowing, smug look. “Earlier in the evening, Adam spent a long time with Miss Broxton. Keep in mind that she is much younger than you, and it is very likely that Adam needs her family connections to further his career. He may be contemplating marriage to her.”
Don’t lose your temper. It’s what she wants. “I shall be the first to wish them happy, if that turns out to be the case. Although I haven’t seen any behavior on either of their parts that would make me believe a proposal of marriage is in the offing.”
“I understand Adam rescued you yesterday when you lost control of your horse. I told your dear parents many times that you needed to develop your equestrian skills.” Then she narrowed her eyes at Cass and said, “Or did you do it on purpose, so that Adam would save you?”
Seething, Cass wondered how much more she could bear. She answered with her teeth almost locked together. “That’s outrageous, Cousin, as I think you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the others will be wondering where I am.” She got to her feet and made her way to the door. Louisa was muttering something about ruining her reputation as Cass exited the room.
Practically running, she gained the entryway and strode purposefully toward the door, so fast the footman could barely open it before she flung herself through. Beyond a line of trees, she could see bonnets bobbing around where the archery butts had been set up. Which reminded her, she’d forgotten to retrieve her own bonnet from the footman. She didn’t think it would matter, though, because the day was overcast and the air heavy with moisture. Rain would drive them all inside before long.
Going along with Adam’s scheme might be crazy, but oh, how she would love to see the expression on Louisa’s face when Adam announced their engagement. It would almost be worth it to agree, just for that one moment of triumph.
Cass approached Jenny, who looked up and smiled at her. Jenny should know what kind of evil harridan she was going to be taking up residence with after she married Jack, and Cass would be delighted to inform her. Although she imagined Jenny had already taken the measure of Cousin Louisa for herself.
…
Adam stood off to one side, observing the shooting. Not under the ancient oak, where the chaperones were seated, but not among the guests either. He was surreptitiously watching for Cass. He wouldn’t bring up the matter of the false engagement; he simply wanted to be with her, to see how she fared. Would she even speak to him? Did she hate him now?
His eyes wandered to the archers. Jack was showing Jenny how to shoot, but Adam judged his friend was using it as an excuse to press his body close to his fiancée’s. Atherton was doing the same for Elizabeth Morgan, more decorously, and Adam was heartened to see that his friend seemed to be enjoying himself. In Atherton’s case, this was indicated by the corners of his mouth slightly curving up. Women could be put off by him, but Adam knew he was, at heart, a shy man.
Another quick gander to see if Cass might be walking toward him. But she was nowhere in sight. Adam exhaled an impatient breath and thought he might have to excuse himself and find her. He wondered if he could sneak away without being noticed, but didn’t think the odds were good. Just then, an unfamiliar laugh caught his attention. It was Eleanor Broxton, apparently amused at something Hugh had said. They were the third couple at the shooting line. It seemed prudent to wander over and make sure his brother wasn’t engaging in anything untoward. He didn’t trust Hugh for one minute with a young, virtuous lady. And besides, he should be seen spending time with Eleanor. He ambled over for a friendly little chat.
“Miss Broxton, Hugh,” Adam said.
Both Hugh and Eleanor gave a start, as though caught out at something they shouldn’t be doing. An uneasy feeling lodged itself in Adam’s gut. He decided to ignore it for the time being. “How’s the shooting going?”
“She’s catching on,” Hugh said.
Eleanor cast Hugh an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I’m rather hopeless. But your brother is exceedingly patient.”
Adam tilted his head, surprised. He studied Hugh for a moment, considered making a sarcastic comment, but thought better of it. “I am glad to hear it.”
And then, in the periphery of his vision, Adam saw Cass. “Excuse me,” he said, abruptly turning away. Damn if she didn’t look beautiful. She was barreling her way across the grass, her head high, arms pumping, obviously worked up about something. Damn, but Adam wished he could marry her. No other woman had yet made him regret his decision not to wed.
She headed straight for Jenny and Jack. It would probably not be wise to horn in on their conversation, but emotion rather than sense seemed to be ruling him. Cass was talking ani
matedly when he joined their little group. She halted in mid-sentence and glared at him.
“Good morning, Cassie,” he said.
“Adam.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Tolerably,” she bit out. Jenny discreetly grabbed Jack’s sleeve and led him away. Thank God for discerning fiancées.
“Would you shoot with me?” he asked.
…
Cass hesitated. Was his purpose to harass her about the made-up engagement? She decided not. Adam looked a bit haggard, as if he, too, had suffered through a difficult night. Despite this, his appearance, as usual, was faultless. Olive green morning coat, ivory waistcoat, fawn britches that showed off his splendid thighs…Oh, for pity’s sake, Cass, stop it.
She glanced over at the archers, weighing her chances of not looking like an idiot. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a bow in my hands since we were children.”
“I’ll help you,” Adam said. He placed a hand at the small of her back and half-pushed her toward the shooting line. She wanted to say no, to refuse him for once, but she’d have to explain, which would lead to an argument. Everybody would hear. And it would look odd if she flounced off by herself afterward.
A footman handed Adam a bow and quiver of arrows. He withdrew one and threw the quiver to the ground. After nocking an arrow, he demonstrated the proper form. “Hold the bow like so. And your stance should look thus.”
Cass couldn’t take her eyes off him, the way his shoulders and back muscles made his coat look like a second skin when he pulled the bowstring back. She couldn’t conceive of why it hadn’t ripped.
“Cassie,” Adam said, and she remembered she was vexed with him. He was holding out the bow.
She accepted it, letting the arrow fall to the ground, and tried to replicate what Adam had shown her. Her feet seemed to remember where to place themselves, parallel to each other, and she squared her shoulders and adjusted her posture. Yes, her body knew what to do. She raised the bow, grasped the string, and pulled back toward her cheek. She’d forgotten how much strength it required.
