A False Proposal (17 page)

“Forgive me, Cass. I didn’t realize you were so dissatisfied.” Her apology sounded sincere, and Cass felt bad about her sharp response. “My fear is that at the conclusion of this, you will be hurt once again.”

“It may seem unthinkable to you, but I’m willing to take that risk.” Cass stopped walking and looked squarely at her friend. “Your life is settled. You know its course exactly. You will marry Jack and bear his children. You will be Lady Linford and take your place in society.”

“You make it sound so tedious,” Jenny said, scrunching up her face.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I know you and Jack want me to find a husband, because you think that is the path to happiness. I’m not convinced marriage will make me happy. I’ve been betrothed, and it led to heartbreak. I’m not sure I can go through it again.”

“But Bentley was ill. He was not right in his mind.”

“Wasn’t he? I don’t know. Perhaps it was my own failings that contributed to his breakdown. Something in me that makes me unsuitable for marriage.”

Jenny shook her head, then said, “I hope you know how preposterous that sounds.”

Cass lifted a shoulder, wishing this conversation would come to an end.

“Exactly what are you getting out of this arrangement, Cass? How will it benefit you?”

Cass wasn’t sure of the answer to that question. Although she’d all but sworn to Adam that becoming his lover and political advisor was all she wanted, she had doubts. It angered her that Jenny’s question forced her to confront them. Was she kidding herself? Why had she felt so lost and alone after they’d made love, if all she wanted was an affair?

Jenny was staring at her, and Cass knew she must answer. “I can’t explain it further. You will have to accept what I’ve already said. Now, may we speak of something else?”

“Of course. One more comment, and then I promise not to bring the matter up again.” She paused, and Cass could see her considering what she wished to say. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that you don’t want love and marriage and a family. In fact, I don’t believe Adam, either. If he didn’t want to marry you, why did your name spring to mind during the discussion with his father? There, I’ve said it, and now I’m finished.” She inhaled deeply, as if she’d been waiting to draw breath.

Cass was stunned. How dare she presume to know Cass’s deepest feelings? And Adam’s? Jenny continued to chatter away, and Cass provided short, disjointed responses. As they neared the house, her friend said, “Why not come to Italy with Jack and me? We would love having you.”

Cass laughed. “Oh, yes, you would love having me on your wedding trip. Kind of you, dear, but no, thank you.”

“Many couples take family members, you know. It is not unusual.”

“I don’t want to risk my brother’s ire for the rest of my life, so I politely decline.” Cass linked arms with Jenny, appreciating her sweet nature and her desire to help. It was time to talk of less weighty topics.

“What are you wearing to the ball tonight?”

Chapter Nineteen

The end-of-house-party ball had been officially declared Adam and Cass’s betrothal ball. Adam had protested that they didn’t want the fuss, but he knew it was wise to go along with his mother’s wishes on this. Hopefully, hosting it here in Surrey would put paid to the idea of repeating the ordeal in town. And it would be beneficial to reacquaint himself with some of the more distinguished citizens who would be in attendance. He was sure Broxton would be joining his wife and daughter for the festivities, and it would afford Adam a good opportunity for an informal meeting with the man prior to the more official one.

After making love to Cass last night, it was difficult to focus on politics. Adam wished he could have revealed his true feelings to her, could have told her it had never been that good before. He’d lost himself in her. Nearly lost his soul. To his astonishment, her gratification had been paramount to him. But he couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t let her believe they could be more to each other than lovers.

Cass was distressed about the ball, as he knew she would be. He wasn’t sure he understood her reluctance, although he knew it was related to Bentley’s death. Someday he would insist that she tell him the story. The real story, not the one the gossips bruited about. “I danced with you at the Mainwaring ball, and you were perfectly at ease,” Adam had told her when she protested.

“Because I could go unnoticed. Practically. At this ball I’ll be the center of attention.”

Nevertheless, she had given in, and now they stood side-by-side with Deborah to greet their guests. For a time, the line seemed to go on forever, although Adam knew not that many people had been invited. He wanted to get the celebration underway so that he and Cass could open the dancing. Later he’d have a chance to waltz with her and hold her close. He was having trouble suppressing visions of her naked body, especially since her elegant ball gown showed off the tops of her creamy breasts.

“Adam,” his mother was saying. “You remember Sir William, of course?”

Of course…not
. He’d asked his mother to be the first to receive guests for this very reason. He hadn’t seen the man for so long, he was afraid he wouldn’t recognize him. Broxton cut an imposing figure, tall with an upright posture, despite his somewhat dated style. His hair was powdered and pulled back into a queue, and his evening clothes would have been fashionable ten years ago. Not that Adam cared.

He thrust out a hand. “Sir William. Glad you could join us. We’ve been enjoying the company of your wife and charming daughter all week.” Broxton smiled stiffly.

“May I introduce my fiancée, Cassandra Linford?”

The older man turned to Cass and bowed. She curtsied and they shook hands. “Welcome, Sir William. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Adam had instructed her not to mention the election unless Broxton did. An awkward silence ensued, during which he seemed to be studying Cass.

“You’re the Viscount’s sister? Good man. I like him.”

“Yes, my brother is Viscount Linford.” She laughed nervously. Adam could sense her discomfort.

Finally Broxton said, “Must look around for my wife and daughter,” and quickly walked away. Cass turned to Adam, brows raised.

“He’s a somber old gaffer, isn’t he? Nothing much to say to any of us.” Adam wondered if he should read anything into that, but greeting the remainder of the guests distracted him, and he did not think about it again.

At last the flow of people dwindled, and Deborah conferred with the orchestra and announced the dance. Cass and Adam stood at the top, closest to the musicians. And the evening officially began.

…

After she and Adam had gone down the middle, Cass had a chance to truly survey her surroundings. He took her hand and pulled her closer so they could hear each other over the music. “The ballroom looks beautiful,” Cass said. “Deborah has outdone herself.”

“And it smells like you. Like roses. I told her they were your favorite. Deborah could do this in her sleep, I imagine.”

Still, Cass was impressed. The room had been aired and the wood floors polished. At the far end, the huge stone fireplace was festooned with greenery, which had been intertwined with roses and dianthus. Huge bouquets rested on every table, made up predominantly of roses. Pale pink, deep scarlet, yellow ones, white ones. Every shade imaginable. Candlelight glowed from the chandeliers and sconces, highlighting the gleaming dark wood paneling. And every woman there showed to advantage in the soft glow.

“How are you feeling, Cassie?” Adam asked.

She shrugged. “Fine. This was never going to be easy. I knew that.” In truth, she’d been grappling with her feelings ever since her talk with Jenny earlier.

“Have I told you how stunning you look?” Adam’s eyes swept her from head to toe. Cass was wearing her new sage green ball gown with tiers of vandyked lace at the hem. The neckline plunged into a V, deeper than was customary for her and she knew her bosom pushed up provocatively. This was the dress that had caused her to row with Louisa. Cass’s only worry had been that the design would hide her scar, and the clever dressmaker had been able to achieve that.

The next set was a cotillion. Deborah had thought that the country neighbors would be more likely to be familiar with its figures and changes than they would for those of the quadrille, and Cass agreed. Her partner was Squire Remson, a very agreeable man who danced quite capably.

Adam had asked her before the ball to save the first waltz for him. After the cotillion, the squire had escorted her to the edge of dance floor to stand with Jack and Jenny. Cass had no idea where Adam was. She’d caught a glimpse of him dancing with Miss Broxton—she supposed he felt obligated to dance with her—and was now sneaking glances around the room to see if she could spot him.

Jenny distracted her. “It’s a lovely ball, Cass.”

“Yes.” Cass could hear the unspoken words.
If only it weren’t such a sham
.

Then she felt a hand at her back, and Adam was there. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Cassie?”

She could have melted, simply at his light touch at the small of her back, his breath at her ear, his nearness. A liquid warmth spread through her body, and she wished that she did not always have such a visceral and immediate reaction to him. It made thoughts of eventually separating from him all the more painful. But now was not the time to think about that, so she smiled and laid her hand on his arm.

As they spun around the floor, Cass noticed Hugh dancing with Eleanor and wondered if he had an interest there. The two seemed to get on well. After that, she simply allowed herself to be caught up in the moment. Adam held her close, and now that they were “betrothed,” she did not care what people might think.

“I’ve been watching you all evening, darling.” His voice was low and seductive. “You’re quite the vixen in that dress. Consider yourself lucky that I haven’t swept you into my arms and up to my chamber.”

Cass laughed. “I wish you would. This is torture.”

“You’re so beautiful, Cass. Every man in the room is drooling with envy.”

“Ha! You exaggerate. Every woman is wondering why you chose me.”

“Only if they’re fools.” His eyes were warm, holding a sweet promise, and he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips.

When she realized that some sort of ruckus seemed to be occurring near the door, Cass tore her eyes away from Adam’s. She heard shouting, and gradually the orchestra ceased playing. Adam hurried to the musicians and urged them to continue, then did the same with the dancing couples. Cass followed him to the main door where she saw a slovenly looking older man arguing with Hugh. Adam’s brother had a firm hold on the man’s arm and was urging him into the hall. This could be none other than Benjamin Grey.
Oh, no. He’ll ruin the evening.

Adam spun around and said, “Cass, return to our guests. This is a private matter that Hugh and I must deal with.”

She nodded and realized she was not alone. Deborah had come up to stand beside her. “I have not seen him in years,” she said. “What a sad sight he is.”

“Did you invite him?”

Deborah’s laugh was harsh. “Certainly not. I would like to know how he found out.”

“Probably village gossips.” Cass linked arms with the older woman. “Come, let’s get some ratafia. If we stand here watching, sooner or later so will all the guests.”

“You are right,” Deborah said. “But I need something much stronger than ratafia.”

Before they could steal away, matters deteriorated. Despite his drunkenness, and the fact that his two grown sons—both large, strong men—were attempting to wrestle him out of the ballroom, Benjamin Grey managed to stand his ground. “Marry the Broxton chit, Adam. I’m ruined if you don’t.”

“Come out in the hall, Father, and we’ll discuss it,” Adam said. It was as though the old man were frozen in place. Eyes bulging, he reddened with the effort to stay put. Cass worried he might suffer a heart seizure and collapse on the spot.

“Won’t have Hugh.” He looked at his older son, who was sweating with the effort of removing his father from the room. “Sorry, boy. Won’t have you. Wants Adam, war hero.” He paused and looked around for a moment, then said, “Christ almighty, where am I?” Suddenly he went limp.

His sons used the opportunity to carry him to a nearby chamber. The ballroom had gone quiet, even though the musicians had valiantly tried to play on, and Cass wondered how much of the exchange the guests had heard. Most of them had deserted the dance floor and flocked toward where the action was taking place. The Broxtons, Cass noted with horror, were front and center. What must Sir William be thinking? In a few moments, she heard Broxton bidding Deborah a good evening. Then he turned to his wife and daughter. “Get your things. We’re leaving.”

“But Papa,” Eleanor said, “we are not packed.”

“You will be in the time it takes to pull the carriage around. See to it!”

Cass and Deborah glanced at each other, both with a knowing look in their eyes. This would not end well for Adam.

Deborah turned to the guests, clapped her hands, and said, “Come, everybody! This is a night of celebration. Let’s resume dancing.” She signaled the musicians, who immediately started a new piece. Dancers crowded onto the floor, willing, apparently, to do what they were told.

Cass edged her way toward the corridor and the closed door. Retreating to the shadows, she leaned against the wall and waited. Adam would no doubt need propping up after this, and she wanted to help. In a minute or two, the door opened. She heard him instructing Scott, Deborah’s butler, who must have been in the room with them, to have Benjamin Grey’s carriage brought round. Just after, Hugh came out with his father, supporting him with an arm about his shoulders, and they walked slowly down the hall. Soon Scott reappeared and grabbed hold of the drunken man’s other arm.

Cass was uncertain. Should she go to Adam, who hadn’t yet left the room, or wait for him to exit? She took a step forward, and suddenly there he was. He closed the door, then sighed deeply and leaned his forehead into the wood. After a few seconds, he stood up, then brushed his clothes off and ran a hand through his hair. Cass felt as though she were spying on him.

“Adam,” she said, stepping out where he could see her.

“Stay put, Cass,” he said. He walked over to her and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Here, let’s go through these doors. They lead to the conservatory. We can get outside for a breath of air for a few minutes.”

They passed through the conservatory and out the doors leading to one end of the terrace. Adam steered Cass toward a large potted shrub, and they kept to one side of it, where any guests exiting from the ballroom could not see them.

“I’m so sorry, Adam. I didn’t realize he was…”

“Hard to find the right word, isn’t it?” He left her side and began to pace. “Do you see now why I can’t marry?”

“Because of your father’s behavior? Granted, it’s appalling, but most women have been exposed to drunkenness, Adam. It wouldn’t be such a great burden.”

“You don’t know everything, Cass. What I wouldn’t give if that were the only problem. There are things about my family…I’d rather die than expose you to them.” He stopped his pacing and watched her.

Cass saw a man who looked defeated. He had such a look of despair on his face, she wanted to weep. She stepped forward and framed his face with her hands. “You are a grown man. A good man. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Adam grabbed her wrists. “No? Broxton has left.”

When Cass didn’t say anything, he said, “It’s true, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. But we already knew your father had made an enemy of him. Don’t assume Sir William puts you in the same category.”

“How could he not? I would, under the same circumstances.” Before Cass could respond, Adam said, “We must return to the ballroom. We’re the guests of honor, after all. I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you put this incident out of your mind for the rest of the evening?”

“I’ll try,” Cass said.

Somehow, they made it through the supper, the announcement of their betrothal and accompanying toast, and several more dances. By the time the carriages had departed and the house party guests had retired, Cass was exhausted. She couldn’t help wondering, though, if Adam would come to her chamber tonight. She would not turn him away if he did. But at the end of the night he walked her to her room and gave her a chaste kiss good night.

“It’s been a long evening, Cassie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That cleared things up. He did not turn around as he strode down the hall. She watched him all the way, a handsome, brooding figure, though she noticed he was limping slightly. Once inside her chamber, Cass dropped onto the bed and lowered her face into her hands. She remained that way until Agnes arrived to help her undress.