“Penny,” he said, his words too loud in the silence, “apologize to your mother.”
“But—”
“Do it now, please.” He caught the girl’s gaze and held it, conveying to her without the use of words that he was grateful for her help but that he believed she’d crossed a line.
She swallowed and gave a quick nod. “Forgive me, Mama.”
“Of course,” Cassandra said, but she spoke as if her mind was no longer present.
“May I be excused?” Penelope asked.
When Cassandra didn’t answer, Katherine gave her consent, upon which Penelope grabbed her plate and glass and quickly exited the room. The rest of the children eyed each other as if to discern the overall mood and whether or not it would be all right to speak.
Eventually it was Henry who said, “I think your idea to fly the kites is a great one.”
“We could make it a competition,” William said.
“Based on who can fly the highest or which one stays airborne the longest?” Sarah asked.
The conversation continued until everyone was done eating, the children’s chatter growing increasingly boisterous as they began to plan out the teams. “But I don’t want to be with Clyde,” Henry grumbled as he followed the rest of the children out into the hallway later. “His kite crashed the last three times and…” The rest of his words trailed off as he disappeared to some other part of the house.
“Well, I suppose I’d best go and find those kites,” Katherine said. She stood and picked up the tray filled with empty serving dishes. When Devlin started to rise, prepared to offer assistance, she shook her head discreetly and shifted her eyes deliberately toward Cassandra.
“I’ll help,” Cassandra blurted. She reached for the teapot only to have it whisked out of reach by Devlin who offered a wide open grin in response to her thunderous glower.
“I’d like to have another cup if you don’t mind.” And since his aim was to keep her from leaving, he deliberately poured for her while Katherine slipped quietly out of the room. The door closed with a soft click, leaving him utterly alone with a fetching virago.
Chapter 5
It was difficult for Cassandra to describe precisely what she was feeling. So many emotions, from anger to disappointment, to heartache and humiliation, churned inside her, whipping up memories so long buried she was half tempted to board the next ship out of England and never return. Ironic that the man she wanted to escape the most had the power to make this wish come true. She looked at him while trying to figure out what exactly to say.
What could she say that had not already been said? She’d told him to leave, but he was still here, she’d asked him to drop the subject of marriage, yet he’d brought it up in front of everyone. The infuriating man had even managed to make an ally of Penelope, who was most likely upstairs right now in her room, crying because she wanted something Cassandra couldn’t provide.
“You had no right,” she said, the pain Penelope’s words had caused like an open wound still raw to the touch.
“You’re correct,” he said, holding her gaze from across the table, “but it was the best way, perhaps even the only way, to make you listen.”
She crossed her arms with a snort. “Has it never occurred to you that women don’t like to be forced to do a man’s bidding?”
“Certainly. But has it ever occurred to you that men don’t like being ignored?”
“Ignoring you has been near impossible since you showed up in my kitchen of all places and promptly proceeded to try to talk me into something I don’t want to do.”
He tilted his head. The edge of his mouth lifted to form a somewhat roguish smile and heaven help her if her heart didn’t beat just a little bit faster. “You blocked me at every turn, Cass, making it near impossible for me to make my case. Not to mention that you ran away, leaving me with no choice but to cross the greater part of southern England for what should have been a half hour chat at your brother’s home in London.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, then stopped herself since she had to admit he did have a point. She huffed out a breath. “Very well.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Very well?”
She pursed her lips, reluctant to show any hint of acquiescence and yet unwilling to be the difficult harridan she wished she was able to be at the moment. “Since you did travel all the way here, it would be badly done of me not to hear you out.”
She was tempted to add, “Even though it’s your fault we’re in this mess,” but chose to take the higher ground and refrain. As it was, she was rather exhausted from all the arguing she’d engaged in that morning.
“Thank you.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the table while studying her in a way that made her skin grow uncomfortably tight. Eventually he stood, came around to where she sat, and extended his hand. “The outdoors will offer a more pleasant atmosphere for this conversation.”
Cassandra stared at his hand, half dreading having to touch it. Unlike the night of the Camberly ball, he wore no gloves and neither did she. But to think of an excuse while he stood there expectantly waiting for her to accept his escort was impossible.
So she took a deep breath and placed her hand in his. An immediate shock of awareness shot up her arm and caused her to freeze. His fingers closed around hers with deliberate firmness, alerting her to the calluses he’d obtained from his work. Swallowing, Cassandra rose. She’d never thought of him as being the sort who engaged in manual labor the way Caleb did. As a captain, she would have expected those under his command to do the arduous tasks while he enjoyed a life more in line with Griffin’s, whose passion was building clocks, mechanical toys, and music boxes.
“I like that color on you,” Devlin said, allowing his gaze to consume her turquoise gown as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “It suits you extremely well.”
Heat rose to Cassandra’s cheeks. A flutter of nerves caused her stomach to wriggle. She forced herself to be polite while hating how easily he could affect her. “Thank you.”
“No compliment in return?” he asked when they’d gone a few paces in silence.
His voice was jovial, his scent a delicious combination of sandalwood and something earthy she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She was rather tempted to lean in closer and breathe him in, but since she knew she’d despise herself for it immediately after, she kept herself firmly in check.
“Your boots,” she told him, deliberately mentioning something safe that had nothing to do with the way he was able to quicken her pulse with one look. “They appear to be very well made.”
“So they are.” He spoke in a pensive tone underscored by a fleck of curiosity. “I ordered them for myself while I was in India. The leather is excellent quality.”
“I see.” Because really, what else could she say without delving into the intricacies of cobbling and the best sort of animal to use when crafting a pair of Hessians? Truthfully, she had no interest at all in such a subject, so she chose to say nothing more until they stepped out of the house.
Glancing up, she caught Devlin’s gaze. The intensity she found there made her so uncertain and weak, she felt compelled to repeat what she’d told him earlier just to maintain some sense of stability. “Whatever it is you think you can say to sway me won’t work. I have no intention of marrying anyone, Devlin. Certainly not for the sake of avoiding a scandal.”
“Let’s head in this direction,” he said and steered her toward the lake.
“But—”
“It’s such a beautiful day. Don’t you agree?” His hold on her tightened a little – just enough to bring her arm flush against his. “Look at the way the sun’s light spills across those flowers over there. Everything looks so vibrant and…” He inhaled deeply. “The air is wonderfully fresh and the birds are singing. There’s life here, Cass, everywhere as far as the eye can see.”
“It’s the same at sea, is it not?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “In a way, I suppose. The seas an
d oceans are certainly full of life, but it’s different when it’s beneath you. One doesn’t see that life or interact with it as one does on land.”
“And yet you continue to leave.” A couple of birds took flight as she and Devlin approached.
“I suppose I’ve developed a taste for travelling. Plus, a seafaring life does have its appeal.”
“How can being confined to a single vessel for months on end be better than having the freedom to walk for as many miles as you wish, to enjoy a picnic with friends, to go for a ride or...” She twirled her free hand. “Or to simply know all these things are possible the moment you walk out the door?”
“You’re only considering the time between places and even then there’s a humbling vastness one tends to forget when one cannot see further than to the next village.” His voice had taken on an almost dreamy quality that held her attention. “But out on the water, the distance is endless and we so small, it opens one’s eyes to one’s place in the world. Then, once the destination is reached, a new world filled with unfamiliar sights, people, and senses beckons to be explored. And it becomes startlingly clear that we English, who pride ourselves on being so cultured and learned, are shockingly ignorant.”
What he said made sense. “I suppose knowledge is limited to one’s experiences, unless one takes the time to read about the experiences of others.”
He frowned and twisted his mouth a bit as if in thought. “You’re right, but you’re also misunderstanding me.” When she glanced at him in question, he explained. “I’m not suggesting the English don’t know about other cultures or lack the ability to appreciate them. What I’m saying is that other cultures make our own look bloody ridiculous.”
Cassandra’s lips started to twitch and for some absurd reason, Devlin apologizing for his curse only made it worse. Within two more seconds, she was choking back laughter, without even knowing why. His comment hadn’t been especially funny, yet something about his iteration, the use of profanity, and his facial expression made it hilarious. Imagining a haughty lady and gentleman worrying over afternoon tea or whether to stand or sit in each other’s presence while fighting off mosquitoes in some foreign land also helped.
“Well, we do have a king and a very impressive flag,” Cassandra told him dryly. “Apparently that’s all it takes to conquer the world.”
“I’d like to think there’s a bit more to it than that,” Devlin muttered. “Hong Kong has become an impressive city under our rule. Although I do sometimes wonder if we haven’t benefited more than they have. Without a solid foothold in China, the English might not be drinking tea, and that, I daresay, would have changed our entire culture.”
“One shudders to think of it,” Cassandra said with mock horror.
Devlin chuckled. “Indeed.” They crossed the grass leading down to the lake, following the gentle slope until Clearview sat a good hundred yards behind them, secluded by trees and rhododendrons. “I began traveling so I could escape my father and the life he insisted I lead. Later, I stayed away for other reasons.”
“But never permanently.”
“No.” He smiled wryly. “My work invariably forces me home.”
While his voice was light with humor, Cassandra sensed a hint of displeasure that suggested he’d rather be elsewhere.
“And while England does have its merits,” he added, “nothing can beat a stroll along a tropical beach.” Releasing her arm, he stepped in front of her so they could face each other. “Imagine swimming in turquoise blue water so clear you can see all the way to the bottom. Consider the pleasure of sitting beneath the shade of a palm tree while a warm breeze wafts lazily over your skin.”
Cassandra’s pulse quickened. Not because of what he was saying, but because of the gleam in his eyes as they gazed into hers. And because his voice had dropped to a low, seductive timbre.
“Try to envision a place where you can have sweet, juicy pineapples every day, not to mention mangoes, bananas, and a whole host of other things Europeans consider a luxury.”
“You make it sound like paradise.”
His lips curled into a roguish smile. “It is, and I would love nothing better than to show it to you.” He took a step closer, causing her to catch her breath. “Marry me, Cass, and I will take you to places you never dreamed existed.”
“I already told you—”
“I know,” he said, his gaze so intense it heated her blood. “But think of Penelope.” He held up one hand to stave off her protest. “What prospects will she have as your bastard daughter?”
The question poked at a wound so deep, Cassandra instinctively turned away in anger. Her intention was to leave and be done with this aggravating discussion, but Devlin caught her by her elbow and pulled her back.
“Let me,” she began, only to stop when she saw his somber expression.
“With my name,” he said, “and the dowry I intend to give her, she has a chance of marrying well.”
Cassandra swallowed convulsively. Until this moment she’d had no doubt about her ability to turn down Devlin’s suit. But he was now offering something more than marriage - something so important she feared her resolve. Because when it came to Penelope’s future, her happiness and wellbeing, there was little Cassandra wouldn’t do to ensure it.
“My life is here, at Clearview,” she told him weakly.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
A nervous shiver swept over her shoulders. “So Penny and I would go with you?”
“If you and I marry I’ll not want to live apart, so yes, you and Penny will join me on my next voyage.”
Excitement mixed with trepidation as she considered his words and what they implied. “I...I won’t be the sort of wife you want or deserve.” When he said nothing to this, she hastily added, “My heart will always belong to another.”
“To Penelope’s father, I presume?”
She nodded.
“I see no issue with that.” When she stared at him blankly he said, “We’re not marrying for love, Cass, but I do think the friendship we share will result in a happy union. Most importantly, I believe it will help with your reputation.”
“But surely...” She looked askance at the ripples traversing the surface of the lake. Her heart knocked wildly against her ribs. How could she inquire about his expectations pertaining to the marital bed without—
“Surely what?” Somehow, he managed to sound both curious and charming.
Cassandra cleared her throat. “Well...um...” She coughed. “If I agree to this, I would like for us to have separate beds.”
“Separate beds?”
When she gave her attention back to him, there was something queer about his expression that she couldn’t quite identify. So she nodded resolutely. “It is nonnegotiable as far as I am concerned.”
He frowned. “Am I to understand that you and I will never—”
“Correct,” she blurted, hoping to stave off the awkwardness.
“I see.” He stared at her until her skin felt as though it might catch fire. “Since I did get us into this mess and my sole aim is to make amends, I shall accept your terms.”
Cassandra’s stomach launched itself into the air, did a somersault, and dove down into her feet. “You will?” she squeaked.
“Oh, indeed.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a sparkling object - a dazzling sapphire ring. “Will you consent to be my wife?”
Trapped by circumstance, Cassandra raised her hand with great reluctance and allowed Devlin to slip the ring on her finger.
Choosing to focus solely on Penelope’s future, she ignored her own apprehensions. Instead she looked up into Devlin’s face, and gave him her answer. “Yes.”
His devilish smile should have warned her of what was to come, and yet he still managed to catch her by surprise when he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to hers.
Stunned by the unexpected intimacy of the contact, the rough hint of stubble scraping her skin as he angled his hea
d, and the press of his hand at her waist, Cassandra needed a moment to figure out what was up and what was down.
Her immediate focus was on the feel of his lips, both soft and firm, and on the solidity of his body now pressed against hers. Next, there was his masculine scent, more intoxicating now than it had been before, the warmth he emitted, and the guttural sound escaping his throat as he tightened his hold.
Devlin was a man - tall, broad shouldered and ready to conquer - while Timothy... Cassandra gasped and pulled away from Devlin’s grasp. Her breath was coming fast and her cheeks felt flushed while her heart... Oh dear God, what had she done? She shook her head and took a step back while Devlin remained where he was, watching her with smoldering eyes.
“You promised,” she muttered.
“Only that I wouldn’t bed you.”
She stared at him in horror. The tips of her fingers touched her lips. “We can’t do this either.” Hating herself for what had just happened, she stepped back further on trembling legs. She’d not only let Devlin kiss her, she’d actually liked it, and had almost forgotten the man she loved in the process. Timothy, with his honest blue eyes and boyish smile. He’d been nothing like this dark-eyed man she’d agreed to marry. And if she wasn’t careful...
Her heart thumped and her lungs squeezed the air she tried to inhale. “Friendship,” she gasped, “that is all I can offer – all you and I can ever have.”
He didn’t respond, but the way he looked at her, with the confidence of a man who was used to wearing down the most resilient opponents, made her very aware of the challenges she would face in the months to come.
Intent on hiding her concerns, she raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and walked away slowly.
She wanted to run from him as fast as her legs could carry her. Of this, Devlin had no doubt as he watched Cassandra make her retreat. He rather admired her for it, and he admired himself as well for not giving chase. Because that kiss they’d shared, while too brief for his liking, had lit a fire inside him he’d like to stoke and let burn to completion. Hell, he’d always known they had a spark of some sort between them, but he hadn’t imagined it might turn into a blazing inferno.
Her Seafaring Scoundrel Page 6
