Indeterminable moments passed until a servant answered the door. The butler took Althorn’s accessories and soon announced him.
He strode assuredly, bowed, and kissed her hand. “Cassandra, what a surprise to get your note so soon after your visit.”
She arose and curtsied. No doubt about it, the man took her breath away. The cut of his clothes, the height of him, the massiveness of his chest, his handsome face, his lips, and the cleft of his chin tantalized and elevated her temperature, as usual. All suited him well, noble eyebrows and a patrician nose that stared down at you when he was displeased. With his cream breeches, tailored burgundy waistcoat, white shirt, and cravat, he was quite the gentleman. She could see her image in his polished dark boots with the cream cuffs that Beau Brummell created as the fashion plate for boots.
Cassandra sat, surveyed him, and motioned him to sit next to her on the settee, quite a departure from acceptable practice. She was ready to flee. Could she continue?
“You and I have a business matter to discuss, your Grace, and while I’ve ordered tea for us, do you wish something stronger?” She flashed a huge smile, dimpled cheeks, and a rapt expression.
“Now you have indeed piqued my curiosity. I prefer to hear the business matter before I make any decision, but tea will do nicely for the moment.” He leaned his huge frame back into the sofa and awaited her words. “The children are all well, I presume, Cassandra. This business matter does not concern them does it?” His brows furrowed slightly while his rapier-like gaze searched hers for some clue.
“In a way it does, your Grace.”
He crossed one leg over the other and faced her. “I noticed the formality in your note and in how you now addressed me. Have I done anything to displease you?”
“Yes…and no.” Her voice was close to a whisper. She tried to control the maelstrom in her head and stomach, but his air of absolute masculine control overwhelmed. She started to speak. Her cheeks heated, her hand touched her face and she steeled herself, her voice an echo in her head. “I find the subject difficult to broach with you, so please bear with me. I need courage on my part and there is no way to avoid the delicacy of the matter, but I would like to make you a proposition, your Grace.”
“A proposition, Cassandra?” One eyebrow rose imperially.
“I propose a marriage of convenience between us.” There, it was out. Now for all the explanations, but his face blanched, and his back stiffened. She admired his cool superb aloofness. Had she expected him to jump for joy?
“You are serious about this, Cassandra? This isn’t some form of merriment?”
They were alone in the room with the doors closed. The French doors to the veranda were open and allowed a breeze to flow through the room.
“It is quite serious. I see you survey the room. Yes, we are alone together, but you are in no danger of entrapment. No one will burst in to say you have compromised me.” The look on his face affirmed her assessment of his concern.
“That’s a relief, at least. What is the business part of this proposal?”
Cassandra panicked. Oh, what have I done? How can I not continue now? “Simply put. We marry.” Cassandra was uneasy and her hands seemed to have a life of their own. She clasped them and then held on firmly for dear life. “I will make no demands on you other than you treat me with respect and not flaunt your paramours in my face. Out of the goodness of your heart, I implore you to secure the guardianship of Alicia as your ward so she may come to live with us.”
Incredulous, he arose and paced across the floor. “I’m accustomed to my presentation of proposals, not to be on this end. It is a novelty. This I admit.”
“Your Grace, since you are the risqué one in this friendship, the thought occurred to me you’d not only be able to handle it, but might enjoy such a relationship.”
“I further admit for the short time we’ve been acquainted you’ve a keen insight into my character. Most unusual.” He played with his ducal ring and rotated it two times.
The duke turned. “I know you aren’t with child, my dear, because we haven’t gone that far. Unless someone else…”
Cassandra stiffened her shoulders and her eyebrow raised.
His voice trailed off. “So what possesses you to make this outrageous proposal?”
“Is it outrageous because it comes from me? Or is it because I’ve presumed too much of you?” She arose and walked toward the veranda. “You’ve indicated you do not wish to be leg shackled, I believe is the term you once used, to any woman who would think to curtail your…spirit. I propose you keep your spirit and the leg shackle shall be loose.”
“So I would be a husband in name only? Have you thought about the consequences? Are you barren?”
“I beg your pardon, your Grace. In order to be declared barren, one has to have at least used or misused her virtue. My virtue is quite intact, I assure you.”
“My lady, allow me to make an observation that you have your head high in the clouds in those penny novels of yours. You tend to look at the consequences in vague terms. Are you able to tolerate my absence for days or weeks not knowing where I am?” He paced his voice. “If I return home and reek of perfume from another woman, will you turn the other cheek, or act like a shrew?”
Silence enveloped the room.
“Cat got your tongue?”
His question irked. More silence except for arduous breaths. “No, your Grace. I had not envisioned your examples, and good ones they are.” She braced her shoulders and tilted her head to him. “An arranged marriage is not a far-fetched convenience.”
“What caused you to invent this idea? Surely, I didn’t give you food for thought.” A slight frown creased his brow.
“It seemed a practical suggestion for both our problems. Mine is security for myself and my ward. Yours is the need for a compassionate caretaker for your mother. In all truth, I have bared all with you. I am fond of your mother and have been for years.”
His lip curled into a grin. “Yes, I can see you’d be a captivating caretaker.”
She swore his devilish gaze twinkled in anticipation of—something.
“You have a haughty tone for someone who wants a great deal and throws herself at me in a most scandalous way.”
“You misread me, your Grace. I’ve had years to steel myself against criticisms or suggestions. Besides, I was of the impression you didn’t fear scandal, a rake like you.” She paused then added, “I hid behind my desperation from a sister-in-law I fear will harm us. Won’t you please think about it?”
The butler tapped twice on the door, and entered and set the tea service on the table. She thanked him. The doors were closed again and the atmosphere was funereal. Yes, she realized, this was a gross mistake. In fact, she now wished she were dead.
He turned formal. “Forgive me, Cassandra, but I’d assumed Alicia was your daughter, either from a previous relationship, or from a previous husband no one seems to know about. You both look so much alike.”
She turned to him in her regal manner, and lowered her gaze. At least, he was still in the room. “You do recall I told you the truth about my relationship with Alicia’s mother. Don’t you?”
“I do remember, but…”
“You believed I lied for society’s sake?” She inhaled, determined to guard her emotions and shook her head. “That’s shallow of you.”
“I presumed you would tell me all in good time. Although I’m a man who doesn’t like surprises…like this one.”
“May I pour you tea?” He refused. “I would like a cup of tea myself, and it would be rude for me to drink and for you not to accept. May I just pour for you and you can leave it on the side table, if you wish?”
He nodded. “Humph, I am in disbelief you concern yourself about propriety when your proposal in and of itself is improper. I find it controversial.”
“I don’t see any impropriety or controversy.” The quiet sip of tea gave her strength even though her hand shook and the saucer rattled against
the porcelain-glazed cup. “I need for you to understand first that Alicia is the child of my best friend who married beneath her station. I have her certificate of birth signed and registered. I will show it to you, if you insist.
“The child survived and Nadeen did not. The father left the next day for parts unknown. She also was the fiancé of my brother, so when she ran away to marry Alicia’s father, Brent was quite heartbroken. On her deathbed, she begged me to take care of Alicia and raise her as my own. This I’ve tried to do. My brother has been most benevolent in this endeavor. I grow weary of the need to explain this again.”
She paused to sip the now tepid tea. “With my brother’s new wife and his own heir, I fear Alicia’s presence is a constant reminder of the woman he loved, who jilted him, and the child he could have had with her. My new sister-in-law will be relieved to see us go. She has made not-so-subtle threats.”
Cassandra searched his face for a remnant of hope, but she didn’t see any. “It was convenient for me to be there when he was alone and grieved, but now he has a new life, and no home is really large enough for two women. I love Brent too much to further inflict pain on him and his wife. I do not want our presence to impact their marriage.”
Althorn grinned with a sardonic expression. “Yet you’d inflict marriage on me?”
She fussed with a ring on her left finger, “Perhaps I deserve your ridicule, but I’ve done a good thing, your Grace. I have suffered society’s gossip. All I wish is for Alicia and me to live in safety and for her to attain legitimacy. Is that so wrong? We are both innocent of any wrongdoing. I seek justice.”
“You wage against great odds.” He arose and paced in front of the window. “It would take a man of great stature to refute all the gossip and bring them to their knees. That could hold an appeal to me. The truth is not salacious. Mistruths are.” He clasped his hands behind his back, turned to her, and then looked away.
Cassandra wondered if she made any sense at all. She further stated, “Precisely, a man such as you could wield his power. I’ve noticed your fondness for children and animals, and you enjoy yourself when in their company. I have studied you and your personality traits and our horoscopes show us as possible partners. I’ve determined that while you obviously don’t love me, you like me. Although I wish you did love me.” How very much I wish that.
“Love? A kiss on a dark balcony doesn’t equate to love for a woman. You should know such things by now.” He rocked on the heels of his well-polished boots.
She placed her right hand to her forehead. “Nonetheless, I digress. You are precisely the type of man I seek. Sometimes marriages start out one way and grow into other commitments. We are friends and perhaps could become lovers.” Friends and lovers. Sweet heaven, won’t you listen?
“Let me clarify. I wouldn’t be a husband in name only?”
Her hand went to her mouth at his words. She waited for her head to explode, her expression startled.
“You haven’t answered my question. Husband in name only. Yes or no?”
“I don’t know how to answer you. Whatever I say you mock. Can you possibly think it is easy for me to ask?” Cassandra lowered her lashes again; a tear escaped and rivered down her cheek.
“Una furtiva lacrema, a furtive tear,” he said. He touched her skin and wiped away the drop with his hand. “Tears do not work on me. I am quite immune to them. Yet somehow you have touched me with your plea.” The sight and feel of his hand soothed her, his touch—but not his callous words. “I misspoke. It was unkind of me, but your proposition unsettled me.” He frowned.
“There is port on the table. Shall I pour for you?” She strained to hear his voice.
“No, I shall take care of it. Perhaps you need a glass, too. I seem to remember, this is how we met.” There was a short pause. “Please continue. Does your brother know of this conversation?”
She didn’t answer.
“Does anyone else know of this conversation?”
“My brother isn’t aware of any of this. I also admire you greatly for your knowledge and financial acumen. A noble wife is something all men eventually want, even if they feel they have been forced into an arranged marriage. I offer you the best of both worlds.”
“I already have the best of both worlds. We look at the definition of best differently.”
“Althorn, there is more to the proposition, if you’d but listen and curb your cynicism.”
“More? I can hardly wait to hear the rest. Do go on.” He walked closer and sat in an opposite chair, gripped the arms imperially.
“Your mother needs a compassionate caretaker. I could take that responsibility. She will get better if she is given time to mend. We can’t expect miracles, but I do believe if we provide a comfortable environment for her, she will improve each day.”
“Time is precious to me,” he answered. “As is my mother.”
“Lady Madelaine enjoyed herself with the children and the puppies. Can’t you see how she responds to kindness? And love? That caretaker was vile. If you think anything of me, surely you know I care about children and family.”
She was on the edge of a precipice precariously placed, about to fall off into an abyss—with no one to catch her, destined to be alone.
“If I were to agree, and I do not infer that I will even think about it, what about other men? Do you take a lover? Do you have an affair?” He stood over her like a wild bear and growled, “You would never be allowed anywhere alone near another man. Is that something you understand? I know how you reacted to my touch on the balcony. Never will I be cuckolded by any man, arranged marriage or not.”
His expression contorted his face in anger, “And what of love, Cassandra? Have you not considered that, as the romantic I know you are? Would you be content to see me leave with full knowledge I go to another woman’s arms?”
Cassandra could not answer in truth, so she evaded the subject. I would die each time you did so because I truly love you.
“My life hasn’t been an easy one, Althorn. An agreement is to be honored, as is a promise to a friend, as is pledge to the future.”
Althorn sought to understand why he was so revolted at her proposition. Why did he not just walk away? Such impudence. Why did the thought appeal as well as repel? He needed time to think about everything.
His mind became a whirlwind of thoughts. How dare she make such presumptions? How could this simple woman think he would agree? A man of his lineage could choose anyone he wanted for a wife. Then he answered himself. She wasn’t a simple woman. She was in desperate straits with no one to turn to but an acknowledged rake. Her brother ignored the problem in deference to his new wife. Cassandra was magnificent—a true warrior woman.
“I promise you, your Grace, I would never dishonor you. I will never tell you an untruth. Discretion will be paramount in our relationship. If we could just start out as good and affectionate friends, it will foster good will between us.”
“You know so little about the male-female relationship. In fact, you know nothing. It’s ridiculous.” His scorn was enunciated in every word. His gaze was directed to her hand that went to the cleft of her throat.
“Yes, that is true, but I know more than you think.”
Now what did that mean? What did she know about men? This woman confounded him.
While he paced, he flipped a coin from palm to palm. “There’s sex and there is passion, and then there is love. There is also lust. I can’t believe you would commit to a loveless marriage with an unfaithful husband. What happened to the grand passion you’ve babbled about for so long? Do you give up your dreams so easily?” His dark side became evident and the more he fumed, the more she retreated into her gentler side.
“It’s not a crime to want a grand passion, your Grace. I do believe you were the first to mention it. I haven’t given up my dreams. I will never give them up. Nor are they for sale.”
“I would argue that point. You’ve indicated you will sell yourself into servitude. You
think you can snap your pretty jeweled fingers and wrap me around them? I do not love you. Yes, I would like to roll in bed with you, but marriage to you is impossible. I am a man of the world used to agreements with my peers and the affections of many women.” But this woman, oh this wondrous woman, there is more to her than I know. He turned to her. “I credit you this though. What incredible strength you have to endure my barrage. You did not answer my other question. Who else knows about this proposition?” He awaited her answer.
“The Duchess of Ravensmere.”
“She approves of this arrangement? I’m flabbergasted she would condone such a ridiculous action.”
“She doesn’t feel I’m in my right mind. The Duchess believes in the stars, in love and happiness.”
“Would that you were the Duchess,” was the caustic remark he threw out at her. Cassandra turned her back to him. She could bear little more of his scurrilous harsh tone, ridicule, and hurtful comparisons.
He heard her firm voice say, “Enough. There is only one Samantha, your Grace, and she is taken.”
“I now realize why I’m so upset. You’ve taken all the romance and adventure out of the matter with your business tone and reduced the relationship to a convenience of sorts. There’s no mention of passion, of love, of molten desire for each other. Did you do as I requested the other night? Did you lay in bed thinking of me and what I would do to you? Did you enjoy my touch?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Perhaps that kindled this idea.”
Althorn gulped down another glass of port and turned toward her, “You must love your brother very much to want to associate yourself with the likes of me.”
“I am fond of the likes of you.” She faced him. “My brothers are all I have left of family.”
Her hands fisted. “I’ve misjudged you, Althorn. Your sarcasm stings like a viper. I’ll remember your words forever.”
My Divinely Decadent Duke Page 7
