Devil's Embrace (45 page)

“That is probably one good reason why we would never suit, Edward. I refuse to be dictated to. I assure you that you would pull your hair out—or mine—at my
stubbornness. As to my woman’s emotions, I would ask that you examine your own feelings—without that cold rock of duty weighing down your heart.” She knew by the sudden dazed look in his eyes that he was at last thinking of Jenny.

“You were granted the opportunity to see me as I really am, Edward. The idealized girl you lost need exist no more. Perhaps some day soon you will thank me, Edward, for I have rid you of a ghost.”
And myself as well.

He paced again in front of her, the muscles of his lean jaw clenching and unclenching. Finally he turned to her, his face rigidly set.

“I think, Cassandra—”

Don’t call me that, only he used my full name.

“—that you have closed your heart to men after the vile treatment you received at the earl’s hands. The nights we have spent together have been a trial for you. I am not stupid or insensitive to your feelings, you know. I will give you all the time you need. I will make no physical demands on you, unless you wish it.”

She stared at him, knowing the effort it had cost him to once again push Jenny from his mind. He would give up anything, even his life, for his sacred honor.

At her continued silence, he said sharply, “Dammit, Cassie, you need not fear me. I am no ravisher of women. If you will but recall, it was you who invited me to your bed.”

“I do not fear you, Edward, and you are quite correct, of course. I wanted you to make love to me because I believed you wanted me, that you still loved me. It was a way, a stupid way, I know, to try to bind us together again.”

“What do you mean you believed that I
still
loved you?”

There, it was said. She drew a resolute breath. “You were ever a bad liar, Edward. I know that you are not in love with me, and you will not deny it if you still feel anything for me at all.”

His face paled.

“It is this wretched country,” he said at last, his voice low and taut. “Once we are in England again, everything will right itself. I have known you all your life, Cassie, and have always held you dear. Can you imagine that would ever change?”

“No, I believe that you would always be kind toward me. But you are being a statesman, Edward, and are trying to avoid confronting a truth that makes you feel the dishonorable man.”

“This passes all bounds, Cass. For God’s sake, do you count respect, likeness in taste and background, as naught? What if there is no longer a
grand passion
between us? I assure you that neither of us will die of misery.” He ran his fingers through his carefully powdered hair and grunted in disgust at the white flecks on his hand. He felt stabbing anger at her, even though the words
grand passion
had stuck in his throat as he uttered them. Damn her. She had returned from the grave to reclaim him and now, when he insisted upon doing precisely as he had assumed she wished, she was ranting ridiculous nonsense to him about his not loving her. Jenny’s image, her velvety green eyes dazed with passion, took hold of his mind. “Damn all women to the devil.”

He reached for his sword and buckled it on. “I am going out, Cassie. Perhaps by the time I have returned, you will have come to your senses.”

“Edward, I have come to my senses.” She rose to face him. “I am sailing next week for England. I know you cannot accept my reasons, but my mind is made up. I hope you can forgive me, Edward.”

He seemed suspended for a moment by the finality in her voice. He turned on his heel without answering her, and walked from the room.

“You’ll be the most beautiful lady at the general’s ball,” Mrs. Beatty said, her thin voice enthusiastic as she gently tugged two thick curls over Cassie’s bare shoulder. “’Tis wise that you do not cover your hair with that nasty powder. It’s all the rage, I know, but such a mess it makes. At least it’s not raining anymore. March is a saucy month. Not like July. Now that’s the time to shut all the shutters to stay cool.”

Cassie smiled absently at Mrs. Beatty’s speech, content to let her cluck on as she worked, as was her habit.

Mrs. Beatty helped Cassie step into a pale blue silk gown,
the only one she had brought from Genoa at all suitable for a formal gathering. “Och, it’s tight across your bosom, m’lady and that part of you can’t be sucked in.”

Cassie stared at herself in the long, narrow mirror. Her breasts blossomed above the tiny row of white lace that gathered above the plunging bodice. She tried to tug it upward, but the stiff stomacher held the gown rigidly in place. She sighed. At least her waistline did not yet tell a tale.

Mrs. Beatty chuckled knowingly. “Captain Lord Delford will have to slap the gentlemen’s hands, m’lady. They’ll be like bees to the honey pot.” As Cassy gazed up, appalled by this thought, Mrs. Beatty hastened to add, “Just a manner of speaking, m’lady. Do not fret yourself.” She stopped her monologue to a halt and drew her sandy brows together. “The captain told Mr. Beatty that you would be leaving for England next week. It’s sad that you must be parted so soon.”

Cassie was careful that her eyes did not meet Mrs. Beatty’s. “It is likely that the captain will return to England in the summer. General Howe has requested that he stay on in New York for the present.” Actually, Cassie wasn’t at all certain what plans Edward had made, if, indeed, he had yet made any. Since their conversation three days ago, Edward had tried to remonstrate with her, but Cassie had remained steadfast. It seemed to her that, finally, Edward was occasionally allowing himself to be relieved. When she had teasingly pointed out how lucky he was to have such a narrow escape from a shrewish woman, his tight reserve loosened, and for a brief moment, he smiled crookedly. But he was worried for her, thinking, she knew, about what her life would be like when she returned to England and to Hemphill Hall. Because he was troubled, she forced laughter into her voice when she was with him. He spent all his time with her, save at night. Whilst they were eating luncheon at a barge restaurant docked off Brooklyn Heights, she unwisely broached the subject of how Edward was going to court Jenny when much of New York believed him to be married.

“I believe, Cass,” he said coolly, “that that will be
my
problem. I will muddle through it, as I always do.” She sensed that he had given it thought. She was quite confident that Jenny, if not Edward, would contrive something suitable.

Cassie turned at the sound of Major John Andre’s laughing voice in the sitting room. Even when he was enjoying a good joke, his voice sounded husky, as if in case a lady were within hearing. Mrs. Beatty draped a white shawl over Cassie’s shoulders and shuffled to the bedchamber door to open it.

“Now you enjoy yourself, m’lady. I was telling Mr. Beatty just the other day that you were looking a trifle peaked, but you certainly don’t tonight.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Beatty, for your assistance.” She smiled toward the sitting room. “With two such amusing gentlemen, I am certain to enjoy myself.”

Major Andre whistled softly under his breath. “Good God, Edward, it’s a close eye you’ll have to keep upon your lady this evening. You are a vision to a starved man, Lady Delford.”

“She is passable, I suppose,” Edward said as he took her hand.

“Thank you, Major Andre, Edward. I hope I have not keep you gentlemen waiting overlong.”

“Not at all, Lady Delford.” Major Andre glanced curiously toward Edward. If Cassie were his wife, he thought, he would not let her out of his sight or his bed, much less let her leave for England alone. His gaze lingered on her thick golden hair, and his fingers fairly itched to touch it.

Cassie supposed that Major Andre was accompanying them because there was no available carriage to carry them from the King George Inn to Kennedy House. At night, a lady escorted even by one gentleman was not sufficiently safe in many parts of the city.

This March night was cool, and the sky was clear. There was a light breeze from the river, and Cassie was reminded briefly of Genoa. But there were no fragrant flowers, no silvery moon casting its soft glow over the Mediterranean. She closed her eyes an instant, chiding herself, and turned her attention to the gentlemen.

The walk to Kennedy House was pleasant, for Major Andre was an amusing conversationalist. Cassie found herself laughing more than once at his droll comments, many of the more sarcastic ones about General Clinton.

“The general likes to fancy that he is riding in the Quorn,” he said, his voice full of irony. “This morning, he insisted upon tearing down the middle of Broadway, pretending he was in the midst of the hunt. Had I the time, I would have trapped a wretched fox and placed him in the general’s path. That would have shaken the old fool, I imagine. The New Yorkers were rather taken aback by his antics, I assure you.”

Cassie laughed. “I look forward to meeting your commander, Major Andre.”

“To you, Lady Delford, he will appear to be all that is gracious. I only hope that he will have the good sense not to ogle you too openly and that you will have the good fortune not to have to dance with him. He is really as clumsy as he is boring.”

Although the evening was young, the long, rectangular ballroom set at the back of Kennedy House was already thronged with scarlet-coated officers, ladies far more sumptuously gowned than Cassie, and New York gentlemen, their elaborately clad figures and powdered heads in hearty competition with the English officers. An orchestra of bewigged musicians was upon a dais at the far end of the room. Though there were few ornaments or decorations in the huge room, it was not difficult for Cassie to imagine herself, for a moment at least, back in England. Cassie gave over her shawl to a black maid, for all the windows were closed, and the press of people made the room quite warm.

With Edward at her side, she made her curtsy to General Howe. She smiled to herself when Edward introduced her to General Clinton, remembering Major Andre’s words. He was not all that was gracious. Indeed, his ogling, Cassie thought, forcing a prim smile to her lips, was more in the nature of a tentative leer. She wished she had not discarded her shawl, for the general’s eyes kept flitting to her bosom.

“Edward tells me you are leaving us next week, Lady Delford.”

“It is true, sir. I must return to England.” Although Cassie was not overly tall for a woman, General Clinton was overly short for a man, and her eyes met his bulbous nose.

General Clinton gave Edward a commiserating look. His pale eyes were set rather wide, and it was difficult to know specifically to whom he was speaking unless he looked at one directly. “The summer, Edward, the summer. We need you here now to drive those rebels into the wilderness.” He heaved a sigh that strained the buttons of his scarlet waistcoat. “We must all of us make sacrifices. The time will pass quickly, you will see. I ask to reserve your permission now for your lovely wife’s hand in a dance before she is besieged. Your servant, my lady,” he added, and bowed brightly, not to her face, but to her bosom.

“General Clinton makes me feel naked,” Cassie whispered behind her hand to Edward.

“You should hear what Jen—”

“I think you can begin finishing her name now, Edward. What does Jenny have to say about him?”

“That he’s a lecherous old fool she would very much like to kick soundly in his shins.”

Cassie said, “A most suitable amusement, I think.” She was silent for a moment. “Will Jenny be here this evening, Edward?”

“Yes. She is a favorite with both generals. You can be assured that she will be discreet.”

Cassie saw that Edward was ill at ease with such conversation, and hastened to say, “Kennedy House did not succumb to the fire, I gather.”

“No, the fire was fickle, as I told you.”

Cassie looked up to see an older woman bearing down upon them, a monstrously huge wig upon her head.

“That is Mrs. Winston, Cass,” Edward murmured. “She much admires English officers. It is all I can do to remain polite to her. Her husband is quite influential.”

Cassie said polite how-do-you-dos, marveling as she did so at the expanse of bosom the lady was displaying. Mrs. Winston accorded Cassie only cursory attention before
turning to Edward. “Well, my dear sir, the musicians have a fine way with the minuet, do you not agree?”

“Most assuredly, ma’am,” Edward returned in his most noncommittal tone. “I was just on the point of asking—”

“How marvelous, sir. I should be delighted to stand up with you.”

Edward shot Cassie a harassed look before he was borne away, Mrs. Winston’s beringed fingers clutching possessively at his sleeve.

Cassie was suddenly alone, a startled expression on her face.

“Something disturbs you, Lady Delford?”

Cassie turned to see Major Andre at her elbow. She grinned. “Your Mrs. Winston is a most overpowering person.”

“Believe me, Lady Delford, most of the officers are in Edward’s debt. That she has a
tendre
for your esteemed husband has made them all breathe a sigh of relief.”

For an instant, Cassie wished that Major Andre knew the truth. She felt uncomfortable being called Lady Delford.

She said, her eyes narrowed briefly on a woman who was laughing overloud, “If I did not know better, I would believe that we were in England.”

“Do not judge our local Tories too harshly. They deserve to enjoy their little displays of luxury and gaiety, for who knows what the future will bring?”

“You are right, of course, Major Andre. It is a fault of mine, I fear, to judge too quickly.”

“A woman of your beauty can be allowed almost any fault, my lady.” Major Andre looked around the room, then turned back to her, amusement in his eyes. “Only my rank as aide to General Clinton keeps the gentlemen at bay. Shall I leave you to your fate as Edward has done?”

“I would just as soon that you did not, Major Andre.”

“Ah, there is Montresor, my counterpart to our famed commander. He’s a dull fellow, Lady Delford, but an accomplished dancer.”

“You are generous in your praise, Major.”

He smiled at the irony in her voice. “You did not give me time to finish. Montresor is also one of the most
brilliant strategists I have yet to meet. General Clinton heartily despises him for it.”