A False Proposal (14 page)

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Authors: Pam Mingle

Tags: #False Engagement, #House of Commons, #Parliamentary election, #historical romance, #Regency, #Crimean War, #fake engagement, #Entangled Select Historical, #On the shelf

BOOK: A False Proposal
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Unh huh
,” he drawled. “Try another.”

Two more shots had the same result; a third fell to the ground about ten feet from where they were standing. Cass, already in a foul humor, was all set to slam the bow to the ground and storm off when she felt Adam’s hands on her shoulders and his breath tickling her ear. He kneaded her muscles, saying, “You’re tense, Cassie. You must relax or you’ll never hit the mark.”

She’d noticed that Louisa had joined the others, and it wouldn’t shock her at all if her cousin marched over to them and pried Adam’s hands off her. “Adam, the chaperones will see.”

“Has that woman done something to upset you?” he asked, and she could tell by his tone of voice that he was genuinely concerned. It touched her.

She relaxed her face. “Louisa? No more than usual.”

He spun her around. “But something? Tell me. I’ll speak to Jack, or her, if you say the word.”

“I appreciate your concern, truly I do, Adam. But leave it. She’s my cross to bear.”

“I don’t like her having any authority over you.”

“Nor do I, but I’ve learned how to manage her. Most of the time, anyway. Please, do not think of it.” She wriggled out of Adam’s grasp and resumed her shooting posture. Focusing on the mark, she kept her shoulders down, took her shot, and
voila
! She hit the target! Not in the center, but that didn’t matter. She did a little dance of excitement and laughed up at Adam, who gave her a melting smile. And the look. The Antony-at-Cleopatra look.

Oh, damn
. Why? Why was he looking at her like that? Adam didn’t truly care for her, did he? He only needed her to make things right with Broxton. To help him win an election. If she did not go along with the deception, it was highly likely she would never see him again after the party, except coincidentally. Louisa was probably right; Cass herself had speculated that Adam would marry Eleanor Broxton for political reasons. She thrust the bow at him, so roughly he nearly dropped it. “Please excuse me.”

“Cass, wait!” He followed her, reaching for her arm when he caught up. “Let me escort you.”

“I’d prefer to be on my own, if it’s all the same to you,” she said. “We’d need a chaperone, and that’s the last thing I want right now.” Without waiting for a response, she dipped a half-hearted curtsy and backed away before he could stop her. After she’d walked for a few minutes, she turned around to make sure he wasn’t following her. He hadn’t moved, but he was watching. Cass intended to head for the lake she’d glimpsed when she and Adam were walking the other day. Momentarily, her path would veer off and she’d be out of his line of sight.

Chapter Sixteen

Adam watched Cass as she stormed off. If she didn’t want his company, he couldn’t force himself on her. Clearly, he’d hurt her yesterday, nor was she of a mind to forgive him. Hands on hips, he lowered his head and stomped the ground, like a damned horse. Horse’s ass was more like it. He never should have asked her. He could see now it was an insult. Telling her he wanted her to pretend to be his fiancée in one breath; in the next, proclaiming loudly that he could never marry. As though saying, “Don’t get your hopes up.” He cringed just thinking about how it must have sounded to her.

If he was truthful with himself about his motives, he’d admit that part of the reason he wanted her to assent to the plan—a big part of the reason—was so that they could act the part of a betrothed couple. They would be granted more time alone. He could spirit her away to somewhere private and kiss her senseless. Hell, more than kiss her. They’d already progressed to the “more” part, and she’d seemed as passionate about it as he was.

Jesus
. His nearly uncontrollable desire for Cass made him feel as debauched as his father. Or Hugh. Cass deserved marriage and a family, and he was not suited for either. He had to move on. Figure out how to square things with Broxton and get that seat in Commons.


Cass resisted the urge to look back at Adam, instead concentrating on her destination. The close, muggy air seemed to enfold her, and she guessed the clouds were deviously scheming to pelt her with rain. Nevertheless, she determined to keep on, turning onto a stony path bordered by sweet-scented lavender beds on either side. It led directly to the lake.
Crunch, crunch
. She could feel the stones digging into her feet through her slippers. The lake was only an acre or so, and when she spied a small Grecian temple in the distance, a folly, she decided to keep walking round the perimeter. She moved to the grassy verge, to get away from the stones. There was no lightning, and the few rumbles of thunder that sounded from far off did not seem to pose an immediate threat.

She passed a small boat tied up to a dock and smiled, remembering the rowing competitions of those long ago summers with Adam and Jack. Two of them would race, and the winner would row against the third. She’d even won once or twice, although she suspected it wasn’t due to her rowing prowess. If only life could be as simple as it was then. They had all changed since those days of innocence—battered by war, death, and loss. When she’d decided to accept the invitation to the house party, Cass had hoped she’d been given another chance at happiness.

But after yesterday, she felt the thin thread of hope unraveling, disappearing. She could see that her desire, her need, to trust Adam was misplaced. He didn’t want to marry. Although she hoped she would find a decent man, one who could forgive her past, she could see now what a pipe dream that was. She’d made a disastrous mistake the first time, and just when she’d thought something might develop with Adam, he’d set her straight. It was for the best. Cass had yet to conquer her guilt over Bentley’s death. Her feeling that she was somehow responsible. She had no business contemplating another union.

But did a decision not to marry, on both their parts, mean any chance of physical pleasure was impossible? Thanks to Adam’s recent attentions, Cass knew that such pleasures were myriad. There was much she had yet to experience. She understood the generalities of lovemaking, but not the details. Except for the little Adam had shown her. And she wanted more, God help her. With him, to be precise. If she could never have love and marriage and a family, did she have to give
that
up too?

Not if she agreed to the false betrothal
. It was common knowledge that engaged couples were permitted more freedoms with each other. They were often allowed to wander off without a chaperone, and who knew what happened then? Anything that both of them wanted, Cass imagined. Well, she knew what she wanted. She was young, healthy, and extremely attracted to Adam. She wanted him to make love to her. The mere thought of it sent a shiver across the back of her neck and made her breathless, shocked at her own boldness. But it seemed to be what Adam wanted, too, judging from his actions of late. And as long as they were discreet and careful…where was the harm?

She laughed out loud at the thought, just as big drops of rain started pelting her. When had the sky gotten so dark, the storm so close? Regretting the lack of her bonnet, she began to run. She was not far from the temple and managed to hurry up the few stairs and under the dome before the full fury of the storm broke. Good heavens, the folly was quite elaborate. The columns were thick enough to hide behind. And of all things, there was a settee inside. Cass sat down and waited for the storm to pass.


When it started pouring, Adam knew he’d better find Cass.

He asked Jack to usher everybody into the house while he went in search of her. His friend looked for a moment like he might argue, but then gave a short nod and did as Adam asked.

When he’d last seen Cass, she was turning off onto the path leading to the lake. He now assumed that had been her destination, so that was where he headed. Rain sheeted down, and the wind blew it sideways. He could scarcely see two feet in front of him. The ground squelched every time his booted feet landed. Without warning, the water loomed up before him.

He slid to a stop and shouted. “Cass!” He strained his eyes, but could see nothing. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he tried again. “Cassie!” No answer. Then, in a flash of lightning that struck all too close, Adam got a view of the dock. He had a terrified moment when he feared she might have taken the boat out, but thank God it was still tied up, the waves tossing it about.

A loud clap of thunder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Don’t panic
,
man
. He knew Cassie possessed a good dose of common sense above all else.
What to do?
For lack of a better idea, he began running along the perimeter of the lake, hoping to spot her, calling her name every few seconds. When lightning streaked the sky again, bringing the temple into relief, he breathed easier. Surely she had taken refuge there.

Adam dashed over the rain-slicked grass and up the steps. And there she sat, calm as could be, as though he hadn’t been worried to death.

“Adam. Hello.”

He rested a hand against one of the columns, panting. “Good God, Cass. I was so worried.”

Rising, she said, “I’m fine.” And then she laughed, apparently at his expression. “Truly.”

Fine
. She appeared more than fine. Her damp clothing clung provocatively to every curve of her body. He had to force himself to quit staring.

“Are you warm enough? Let me give you my coat. The lining is dry.” She protested, but he quickly slipped it off and wrapped it around her shoulders. They watched the rain for a moment, which was now falling steadily. The worst of the storm had moved off.

“I love the pattering of rain. It’s such a lovely, comforting sound,” Cass said.

God, this is torture.
“Yes. I love waking up to it.” He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and blotted his wet face. Cass was looking at him very intently, as though she wanted to say something. He waited, and finally she spoke.

“Adam, I have an answer for you.”

“An answer?” He was at a loss.

Cass laughed again. He loved the sound, so he smiled at her. Some tendrils of her hair had broken loose at her nape, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching them. Lifting a strand and smoothing it, then laying it back across her skin.

“You asked me a question yesterday. I’m ready to give you an answer.”

The light dawned, and he shook his head. “Oh, no, Cass. Please, accept my apology for even broaching the subject. It was a terrible idea, and I was a coward and a fool for telling my father the lie in the first place.”

She cocked her head at him. “Perhaps it was not such a terrible idea after all. There might be some advantages to the plan.”

He studied her face and couldn’t discern any hidden meaning. “To help me get elected, you mean. I can figure out another way. Maybe Broxton—”

She spoke over him. “You said we would have to act like a betrothed couple.” She turned her face away, as though embarrassed. “What did you have in mind, exactly?”

Adam hesitated, not wanting to make a mistake. Was he misinterpreting the situation?
Go slowly, man
.

“I think you know what that means, Cassie.” He stepped closer. She did not retreat. “We could spend time together, show affection to each other. It’s almost expected. Because of our betrothal, we could go off by ourselves. I could kiss you, possibly do…other things.” He wasted no time in casting aside the promise he’d made to Jack about this very thing.

“Like what we’ve been doing?” She removed his coat and laid it on the settee before coming back to stand close to him.

Adam could barely breathe, and his cock was as hard as the marble they were standing on. He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her lips. She closed her eyes and fell against him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Cass?”

“We’re speaking in riddles, aren’t we?” She put her palms against his chest and pulled away a little. “You don’t wish to marry. I don’t know your reasons, and you don’t need to explain them to me.” She held up a hand when he tried to interrupt. “No, it’s all right. It may surprise you to know that I don’t wish to marry either.”

Adam was stunned. “But I thought that was why you returned to town. To find a husband. Wasn’t it?”

“It is what Jack wants.” She smiled wryly. “Sometimes I think I want it, too. But I have barely gotten over the trauma of what happened with my fiancé. I’m terrified of placing trust in another man. You included.”

“I see.”

“You probably don’t, any more than I understand your resistance to marriage. My guess is that it has something to do with your father. Understanding that much will suffice. And you will have to be content with not knowing the particulars of Bentley’s death.”

“In order to…?”

“In order for us to be lovers.”

That did it. “Oh God, Cassie. Are you sure about this?” When she nodded, he drew her into his arms and captured her mouth in a tender, evocative kiss. He wanted her to know all he was feeling. The joy and the excitement. Something deep in his core he couldn’t begin to express with words. She opened her sweet mouth, giving up a part of herself to him, letting him in. After a moment, he felt the sun’s rays on his back. “Look. The sun has come out. It’s a good sign.”

Then an unwelcome thought intruded. “Your brother. He’ll be out here looking for us any minute.”

“No. They were spending the rest of the day in the village. Some of the others, too. I’m certain they would have already gone.”

“If you say so.”

Cass laughed, and he spun her around and began unfastening buttons. Her dress dropped to the ground in a yellow heap, and then he got to work on her stays. Done. Her chemise felt dry, the moisture not having soaked through the other layers. When he turned her back around, the breath was sucked out of him. Not because she stood before him half naked, but because of the scar beneath her collarbone, on the left side. He’d been in battle, and he recognized a wound from a ball when he saw one. How in the name of Christ had Cass been shot?

His first thought was that he wanted to make absolutely sure she did not feel any less beautiful because of it. And his second: Who did this to her? He knew this wasn’t the time to press her, but he intended to find out.

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