A Carnal Agreement (Regency Intrigue Book 1)

by Silvia Violet

  Cassandra gave orders to the servants while Stanton carried Amanda upstairs. John helped his brother. Thomas protested that he could walk on his own and then fell to his knees as soon as he stood.

  When everyone was settled, Cassandra sought out her sister. She was tucking blankets around Amanda when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

  Mark entered and gave a report on the injured. “Sidney and John are bringing the women upstairs. I helped Ewen to a bed, but he says he’s feeling better already. I doubt that, but with a few stitches I believe he’ll be all right. He’s lucky. We all are.”

  Cassandra nodded. “What will happen to these women when they leave here?”

  Mark ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. It’s unlikely they have anywhere to go.”

  “Do you think we could find them positions, possibly as servants in respectable homes? I imagine my Aunt Claire would hire one of them at least.”

  Stanton looked up from his seat by Amanda’s bed. “My sister might be willing to help out.”

  Mark nodded. “If you are willing to vouch for them, I think it might work.”

  “I will do whatever I must. I cannot let them go back to selling themselves. I know some women choose such a profession but to be forced…” She let her words trail off, not wanting to think of the horror anymore.

  Mark tensed. Cassandra knew he must be thinking of how Katherine had hoped to find her revenge. She moved toward him, but he backed away, a wary look on his face.

  “Sidney should be here soon with the magistrate. I need to be available when they arrive,” he said.

  Cassandra watched the door close behind him. She was tempted to go after him and tell him she had changed her mind about their relationship. But she let him go. There would be time to talk when they got back to London.

  ***

  After a grueling few hours explaining the events of the day to the magistrate, Mark was ready to collapse on the nearest bed. He was gathering his energy to help Stanton make arrangements for everyone’s return to London, when the doctor Sidney had summoned knocked on the door of the study. Mark bade him enter.

  “Miss Halverston is awake now. I expect her to make a complete recovery,” the man said.

  “Thank God.” Mark patted Stanton on the back. “You did save her after all. How are the others?” he asked, looking back at the doctor.

  “I have stitched up Ewen. Thomas has a wretched headache, but he should be fine. I’m happy to say all of them should pull through.”

  Mark shook hands with the doctor and offered to show him out. But the man told Mark he could find his own way and exited, leaving Mark and Stanton alone. Mark picked up the torn jacket he’d lain across a chair and pulled it on over his soiled shirt. “Can you spare a horse for me?”

  Stanton looked confused. “We brought an extra for you to make your escape. And I’m certain we can have the use of Southwood’s considering our circumstances, but you can’t mean you are leaving now.”

  Mark nodded. “I am.”

  “What about Cassandra?”

  “She does not wish to continue our relationship.”

  Stanton shook his head. “She’s in love with you, Foxwood. Anyone can see it.”

  Mark gave his friend a bitter laugh. “If only that were true.”

  “I saw the look on her face when she shot Gaston. She would have done anything to save you.”

  “You risked your life for Amanda. Are you going to profess yourself in love with her?”

  “No, but—”

  “Tell Cassandra I wish her all the best. I will not bother her further.”

  “You’re a fool.”

  “I may be, but I’m a fool who wishes to keep his sanity.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “You look worse than the last time I saw you, and I would not have thought that possible.”

  Mark glanced up to see Stanton leaning against the doorframe with feigned casualness.

  “I told you not to call on me unless you could be civil.”

  “And I told you I have no intention of leaving you alone until you see sense and go after Cassandra.”

  “If you mention her name once more, I will end our acquaintance all together.”

  Stanton pushed himself away from the door and took the liberty of pouring himself a drink. “What are you going to do? Call me out for daring to care enough to want to see you happy?”

  Mark snorted. “You’re one to talk. You’ve done nothing to pursue Amanda despite your obvious regard for her.”

  “Amanda is an innocent. While I appreciate her charms, she is better off without me. I’ve no taste for virgins anyway.”

  “I’ve seen how you look at her, Stanton.”

  “Do you want me to seduce Cassandra’s sister?”

  “God, no.” Mark shook his head. “I don’t know what I want.”

  Stanton took a seat and sipped his brandy. Mark longed for his friend to leave him in peace. How dare he keep pestering Mark about Cassandra, reminding him of what he had lost? It wasn’t as if Mark ever stopped thinking about her. Even at night, he lay awake longing for her to be by his side or dreaming of her. Every morning he woke to emptiness.

  He wanted nothing more than to see her again, and Stanton wasn’t the only one encouraging him to go after her. Amanda had written him a scathing letter, and her aunt had visited and given him a set down so harsh his ears still burned. They all said Cassandra was languishing without him, but he knew that wasn’t true.

  He remembered their last days together with painful clarity. They’d done their best to hurt each other. Cassandra wouldn’t want to see him after that. He’d let himself believe differently for a few moments while Katherine’s drug wracked his body, and Cassandra offered him salvation. In the midst of that haze of need he’d thought they could make it work. But once his mind cleared, he could not bring himself to risk another rejection.

  Cassandra had made no attempt to contact him after she left London, not even to let him know what had happened to the women they’d found at Southwood Grange. Of course, Stanton had told him everything she hadn’t. Stanton had tried to call on Amanda, though despite the service he’d done her, he hadn’t been allowed to see her again. Her aunt feared a call from him would ruin her reputation. But Lady Morgan had informed him of Cassandra’s departure for Devon and her success in placing the women they’d rescued.

  Cassandra had taken one woman, Fanny, to Reddington Abbey with her. Susanna had stayed in the service of Lady Morgan, and the other two women had been employed by Stanton’s sister.

  With those arrangements made, Cassandra quit London, intending to claim her belongings from Reddington Abbey and prepare her former home for the distant cousin who was Reddington’s heir. Once the authorities had become involved, Mark and Cassandra had been unable to keep Reddington’s death a secret. Mark assumed Cassandra would reside with her aunt while she looked for a position, but no one had mentioned her returning to London.

  The French authorities had been given the names of Gaston’s accomplices, and several of the kidnapped women had been located and returned to England. The only missing link in the whole business was Walter Linton. He had yet to be found. Mark assumed he had fled the country. Hopefully, he would never have the nerve to return.

  The Earl of Southwood suffered a nervous breakdown when the details were revealed to him. He was currently sequestered at his mother’s estate. It wasn’t known if he would ever recover.

  “Reddington’s heir offered Cassandra the Abbey.” Stanton’s words startled Mark out of his reverie.

  “She won’t take it, but it makes no difference to me. I’ve put Northamberly on the market.

  “What? You love that old heap.”

  “I thought you’d be thrilled. You hate the place.”

  “But you don’t.” Stanton set his glass down with a thump. “Giving you that estate is the only fatherly thing Gillinvray’s ever done.
You can’t sell it.”

  Mark scowled at him. “Why ever not? I can’t go back there. Whether or not Cassandra stays in Devon, I’ll never enjoy it again.”

  “You would enjoy Northamberly if she were there with you.”

  Mark growled. “Don’t make me throw you out.”

  Stanton shook his head “Fine. I won’t mention her again, but I can’t sit around and watch your continued decline. You haven’t left this house in days.

  “It’s snowing, and there is no one in town.”

  Stanton snorted. “That’s never kept you in before. In fact, you once recounted the story of a marvelous evening during which you watched the snow fall from the carriage window while a woman I won’t name performed certain services on you with amazing skill.”

  Mark clenched his fist. “I’m not as young and foolish as I once was.”

  “You’re hardly elderly, nor has your penchant for trouble left you. I refuse to see you sit here, drinking yourself into oblivion every night. I’m going to a supper at Langley’s tomorrow night.”

  Mark raised his brow.

  Stanton smiled. “It’s not like the affair you attended, but there will be plenty of women there. Several of whom would not be averse to spending the night with you.”

  Mark studied his friend intently. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing.” But he wore a grin like a cat. “If you aren’t going to pursue Cassandra, you need to work on forgetting her. Say you’ll come.”

  “Will you promise not to mention her name?”

  “I promise,” Stanton said, but the unnerving smile didn’t leave his face.

  “Fine.” Why did he already know he’d regret his acquiescence?

  ***

  “Have ye heard Northamberly’s up for sale?”

  “You don’t say. I wonder what will become of the servants. Hope the new master keeps them on. My Letty needs that job somethin’ awful what with her husband’s leg busted.”

  Cassandra couldn’t help but overhear the conversation as she absently looked at ribbons in the milliner’s shop. How could Mark let that beautiful old castle go? But she knew the answer. He had no wish to see her, no wish to think about what might have been.

  She’d thought of nothing but him since leaving London. Her heart ached so much she couldn’t gather her wits enough to start the search for employment. The new Lord Reddington had told her to stay on as long as she liked, but she could not live on his charity indefinitely. She had to get herself together and make plans for her future.

  If she were honest with herself, she’d admit she was stalling, hoping Mark would change his mind and seek her out. Why she allowed herself to think there was the remotest possibility that would happen, she did not know. She had told Mark in no uncertain terms that their liaison could not continue after they found Reddington’s killer.

  But what if he didn’t just want a liaison? What if, as she’d begun to suspect, he wanted more? She would not have accepted his proposal a few weeks ago, no matter how much she might have wanted to. She would have stubbornly clung to her desire for independence. But now she would accept without reservation. If only it wasn’t too late.

  By the time she returned home from her errands, she had a splitting headache and cramps in her lower abdomen and back. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed, pull the covers over her head and refuse to speak to anyone for—how long? The night? A week? The rest of her life?

  Loring opened the door and took her cloak. “Lady Reddington, are you feeling unwell?” he asked, studying her face.

  Her headache was making her sick to her stomach, but she didn’t want Loring fussing over her. “I have a touch of headache, that’s all. I’d like some tea sent up to my room. I’ll be resting there.”

  “Would you like a hot bath? The steam might ease you?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely.” Perhaps a bath would also ease the cramping. “After the bath, I’d like a tray sent to my room. I plan to retire early.”

  “Yes, my lady. I will see to your hot water and tea.”

  She knew Loring wished she’d confide in him, tell him what had been bothering her since her return. He was worried that all she did was sit and stare out the window, unable to even concentrate on a book. But what could he do? No one could make her feelings for Mark go away.

  And she certainly couldn’t tell him why she was more depressed than usual today. The cramping in her belly was surely a sign of her impending menses. She was always crabby and uncomfortable at this time of the month, but these particular cramps were worse than any others. They meant that her last hope for a link with Mark was gone.

  She had told herself it would be best for her not to be with child. Such an eventuality would only complicate her situation further. Mark would feel he had to marry her. She did not want him trapped like that.

  Still, part of her wanted desperately for there to be a child. The idea of creating a life with Mark, of sharing such a gift warmed her inside. When she’d begun their affair, a child had been a means to an end. How foolish she had been. She would never have been able to pretend the baby was Reddington’s and ignore what she and Mark had shared.

  She was able to relax for a time in her bath. Both her headache and her cramps diminished. By the time she stood and began to dry herself, her mood had improved. At least she would have enough appetite to eat her dinner.

  But as she was drying off, it became evident that her menses had begun. She had known it would come soon, had told herself again and again that there was not a baby. But until that moment she’d let herself believe the cramps could be a symptom of Mark’s seed taking root instead. When she saw the stained towel, the full impact of her separation from Mark hit her.

  Tears poured from her eyes as she dressed herself. She could hardly see as she made her way to the sofa where she allowed herself to curl up and let the sobs come. Her tears had soaked the pillow by the time Fanny, her new lady’s maid, opened her door to deliver her tray.

  “Lady Reddington, whatever is the matter?”

  Cassandra sniffled and tried to draw in enough air to speak. “I’m fine. I—”

  “You’re not fine, my lady. Pardon me for saying so, but you haven’t been fine since we left London. I know it’s not my place to scold. I shouldn’t think to after all you’ve done to help me, but you’ve got to stop sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.”

  Cassandra wiped her eyes. Fanny was right. She couldn’t keep on like this. “I’m not with child,” she blurted out, as if that could possibly explain what had upset her so.

  “You’re not with child?”

  “No, my menses started tonight.”

  “I see. It seems to me most women in your position would be upset if they were with child, not the other way round.”

  Cassandra had to smile at the look of bewilderment on the young woman’s face. “You’re right, Fanny, they would be. Sit down. I’ll explain.” Cassandra patted the sofa cushion.

  Fanny looked a bit startled. She sank down onto the sofa but sat so close to the edge Cassandra feared she might fall off. “I can’t talk if you are going to hover like that. I need a friend right now, not a servant.”

  “Yes, Lady Reddington, it’s only—”

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Cassandra admonished and Fanny obeyed.

  She told Fanny everything, starting from the day she decided to approach Mark with her plan which now seemed foolish in the extreme. The young woman listened intently, nodding occasionally but remaining completely silent.

  When Cassandra finished, she took a deep breath and leaned back against the sofa. Fanny covered Cassandra’s hand with her own. “There’s only one thing you can do,” she said.

  Cassandra opened her eyes and studied the young woman’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I suppose you have two choices, although there’s only one I approve of.”

  “Well, what are they?”

  “You can sit here and let your heart bre
ak until you die of despair. Or you can let me pack your most alluring dresses and ask that the carriage to be prepared for a journey to London.”

  Cassandra knew right then what she would do. Talking to Fanny, hearing her own voice tell someone else how much she loved Mark had shown her he was worth any risk she had to take. She hugged the young woman. “Thank you so much, Fanny. Inform Loring that I will leave for London at first light. Then return so we can pack.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Mark tried to turn his back. But Phoebe, the lovely young widow Stanton had introduced him to, slid her hand down Mark’s chest and wrapped it around his cock.

  “This feels more than adequate to me.”

  “My body is responding quite properly. That, thank God, is not one of the plagues I suffer from.” He pushed her hands away and turned to face the fire. Phoebe was beautiful, intelligent enough to carry on a lively conversation, and certain to be an excellent lover. A few months ago, he would have pounced at the chance to take her to bed and explore the many ways they could pleasure one another.

  But not now. He’d known from the moment he’d entered Langley’s house that he didn’t want any of the women there. He wanted Cassandra.

  But Cassandra didn’t want him. He had to move on. That’s what he’d told himself when Phoebe gave him several not-so-subtle hints that she would be more than happy to spend the night with him.

  He had let her accompany him to his rooms, and as soon as they reached his bedroom, she’d attacked him with a ferocious passion he should have appreciated. She was obviously well-versed in removing men’s clothes, and she had him stripped to the waist before he had a chance to tell her he couldn’t go through with this.

  She slid her arms around him and rested her head against his back. “What’s wrong? Your thoughts have been far away all night. If I weren’t so vain, I might think you were less than impressed with my charms.”

  He turned back to face her, bringing both her hands to his lips and kissing them each in turn. “I assure you, your charms are more than enough to bring a man to his knees.”

  “Some men, but not you.” She studied his face carefully. “Who is she?”