Patricia Rice (32 page)

That would be tempting fate too far. He had managed to trick
her into playing his wife, and it had amused her to keep up the charade. She
would not be amused by a repeat of the situation. How else could he keep her
out of trouble?

She wanted to see her mother. Her mother was something of an
invalid. Could she be persuaded to travel? What if he sent Lady Eddings to
Sussex? Surely Cassandra could be persuaded to a few weeks out of the way in
that case. He should never have mentioned marriage in conjunction with travel.

Not that Sussex was the safest place in the world. It would
just take a little while longer to trace her there. The Americas wouldn’t be
far enough if Rupert truly wanted to find her.

He would just have to act quickly. Rupert had to be brought
in line. A man like that would seek his revenge on hapless females before
seeking out his stronger opponents.

~*~

“It was too bad of me to lose my temper that way, Wyatt. I
promise I shall never do it again. Will you truly take me with you?” Wearing
only her chemise and stockings, Cassandra flung herself into Wyatt’s arms after
his first words.

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, sweetheart. You will
curse me often enough in the years to come. Just be certain to apologize
afterward just like this.” Wyatt lifted her up in his arms.

She reveled in the pleasure of melting against his hard length.
She fitted her arms around his neck, stood on her toes, and covered his face
with kisses.

“I shall be a terrible burden to you. Duncan has said I am a
miserable witch when I don’t get my way. I don’t mean to be, Wyatt, really I
don’t. But it is just so very...
annoying
that I cannot control my own life, that I must always wait and rely on someone
else. You cannot know how it is.”

“No, perhaps I cannot. I will try to be more understanding,
Cass, but you must promise the same. I worry about you, and I want to make you
safe and happy. You must let me muddle through this in the best way I know how.”

“Oh, you do very well, my lord.” Cassandra wriggled in his
arms, feeling the hard state of his arousal through the tight cloth of his
pantaloons. “Very well indeed,” she murmured as his mouth sought and claimed
hers.

She had wondered if Wyatt would tire of her as her father
and brother so quickly tired of their mistresses. Each time he came to her like
this was another moment stolen from time. She would make the most of every
minute.

They slept in her room that night, unable to cross the
distance to the larger chamber before their needs demanded satisfaction.
Cassandra cried out her joy as Wyatt once more proved his desire for her, and
when he came to her twice more before the dawn, ecstasy replaced rapture.
Surely he would not leave her anytime soon if he still felt this strongly.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she had found a home.

The cotton padding of that night held her safe through the
next few days as Wyatt made arrangements for their journey and seemed aloof and
distant. As long as he came to her at night, she would allow him his
preoccupation. Wyatt was a busy man. He did not need to wait on her both night
and day. She could visit Thomas, oversee her fields, search the library for
gardening books, and pluck at the pianoforte.

She rather missed their musical interludes before bedtime,
but Wyatt stayed in his study until the small hours, writing interminable
letters and instructions. One would think he was planning a war. But he always
came to her bed, so she did not complain.

When they finally set out, Lotta and Jacob traveled with the
baggage, and Wyatt made certain Cassandra was ensconced in his most comfortable
carriage. He insisted that they travel slowly so the jolting did not disturb
her, but the sickness had passed as quickly as it had come, and she was
bouncing with eagerness to see the countryside. She wanted to ride with Wyatt,
but he had not thought to bring a horse for her. She hid her disappointment and
made him laugh through the alfresco luncheon from the basket that Cook had
prepared.

It was the only time Wyatt laughed that day. As the sun drew
low in the sky, Cassandra kept searching for the cloud of smoke signaling
London, but the countryside only became greener, and occasionally she imagined
the scent of salt air. She wished Wyatt would ride back to the carriage so she
might question him, but he rode ahead of the carriage, his gaze on something in
the distance.

When they turned through the arched gateway of someone’s
country estate, she swallowed her disappointment. She hadn’t remembered the
journey to London being so long, but Wyatt had been excessively careful in his
attentions. He probably feared to tire her and wished to rest before continuing
their journey in the morning.

Wyatt opened the landau door before a footman could and
scanned her face as she threw her arms around him most improperly to be lifted
from the carriage. Reassured, he kissed her cheek and took her hand on his arm
to escort her into the house.

The door swung open as if they were expected, and Cassandra
gazed around with curiosity at the lovely polished oak floors smelling of
beeswax, the welcoming arrangement of flowers, and the charming foyer dominated
by a curved staircase to the upper floors. The house was much smaller and less
impressive than Merrick, but it had a comfortable elegance Cassandra liked at
once.

She smiled up to Wyatt as the servants formally lined up in
the hall to greet them. “Whose house is this? I feel as if I am a princess,”
she whispered.

“To them, you are. This is one of my smaller estates.”
Before she could question, Wyatt introduced her to the upper servants, then
sent the staff scurrying to prepare rooms and carry luggage. A discreet look to
the butler received a nod, and the older man led the way to a small suite of
rooms in a separate wing off the formal front rooms.

Expecting to be led upstairs to the bedchambers, Cassandra
exclaimed with delight at the cozy warmth of the yellow silk-lined salon to
which they were led. At a sound from a velvet fainting couch near the fire,
Cassandra turned from the wide expanse of draped window to the room’s occupant.

“Mother!” Nearly squealing with delight, she raced to the
invalid lying propped against the pillows, waiting for her.

Wyatt watched the reunion with growing trepidation. How long
would Cassandra’s delight last when she discovered they were on the Sussex
shore, now two days’ journey from London?

“Why, Wyatt? Why can I not go with you?”

He gave her sleepy face a kiss. “Would you leave your mother
here alone? Now, go back to sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He was already dressed for traveling, wearing light
dust-colored trousers and polished Hessians, his hat in his hand as he bent
over the bed. Cassandra could smell the fresh scent of his shaving soap, and
she ached to go with him, but deep in her heart she understood. He could
present her as wife to his country friends, but not to the
ton
. Not that much of society would be about this time of year, but
enough to start the gossip clucking. She sighed and sat up. “Be careful, Wyatt.
I’ll miss you dreadfully while you’re gone.”

“Will you?” He looked pleased by that notion. Then, bending,
he pressed a kiss to the glorious tumble of her hair. “I’ll buy you something
pretty while I’m there. What would you like?”

She shook her head. There was nothing he could buy her.
Security didn’t come in a box wrapped in fancy ribbons. At his troubled look,
she suddenly brightened. “Lace! The village has no lace for a christening gown.
I should very much like to make the gown myself, if I might.”

“I shall find the most beautiful lace in all of London,
then. You do not mind if I borrow Jacob?”

“Of course not, although why you would wish to take Lotta
too is beyond my understanding. I know Jacob won’t go without her, but that
wagon cannot be comfortable in her condition.”

“Spoken from experience, I realize. I believe it has
something to do with some family matter. Perhaps they wish to invite guests to
the wedding.”

She nodded dubiously. “Just do not let them lead you into
trouble, my lord. I realize they appear very proper when they wish, but they
are not at all what they seem.”

Wyatt grinned. “I am not so green as that, little goose.
Now, give me a hug and I’ll be off.”

He was gone quickly, too quickly. All the servants thought
them married, but Wyatt had not chosen to lie to her mother, nor did he tell
her the truth. He left the decision up to her, and Cassandra wasn’t at all
certain she knew what to do with it.

She joined Lady Eddings in the first-floor wing far from the
chamber where she and Merrick had spent the night. By choosing this wing, Wyatt
had saved the invalid many steps, made her a part of the downstairs activities,
and carefully arranged their own privacy.

Lady Eddings smiled up from a bed tray of delicious-smelling
coffee, tea, and a basket of muffins, scones, and toast. “I have been very
spoiled here. I may never leave. Has Lord Merrick taken that into account?”

“He has been all that is kind, Mother. I should have thought
of your removing out here sooner. With the invigorating air from the sea,
Sussex is much more pleasant than London.”

“It is always lovely anywhere that one can see clear sky. I
just do not understand why Lord Merrick has been so considerate. I know that he
has been all that is proper, but it must cause talk if you travel in his
company. I cannot help but worry about you, Cassandra.”

“Worry, Mother? What is there to worry over?” She adjusted a
chair near the breakfast tray and made use of the spare cup provided by the
ever-efficient servants.

Lady Eddings frowned. “Cassandra, I did not believe you ever
lied to me. Would you begin now? That wretched rogue that Duncan married you to
has returned, and you are not at all worried?”

Cassandra went white as she froze with a partially broken
muffin in hand. “Rupert? Rupert is in London?”

Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal. “But he cannot
disturb our peace here. It looks so pleasantly warm in the sun. Do you think I
might attempt a walk outside?”

Confined by the steep staircase in London, Lady Eddings had
seldom set foot belowstairs, and therefore, never outside. To venture on this
journey and now ask to walk in the sun was an improvement not to be expected.
But the question flew right by Cassandra as she slowly crumbled the muffin.

At the questioning silence from her mother, Cassandra jerked
her attention back to the conversation. “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear. I
think... If you’ll excuse me...” Cassandra started to rise, her mind awhirl.

Merrick had known. That was why he had hidden her here. What
was he going to do? The possibilities seemed limitless, but Rupert would allow
only one. She could not allow Wyatt to challenge him. She could not.

“Cassandra!”

Her mother’s voice raised in sharp rebuke startled her. She
glanced to the invalid in confusion.

“Sit down, Cassandra. It’s time we talked.”

Her mother speaking in clear, coherent sentences was one
thing; ordering her about was quite another. Confused, Cassandra sat.

“Lord Merrick has gone to deal with your husband, has he
not?”

Cassandra nodded.

“Why?”

How could she answer that? Uncertainly, she threaded her
fingers together. “Rupert has not been a husband to me since we married.” She
halted there, unable to explain further.

Lady Eddings’ blue eyes narrowed. “But if I do not mistake,
Lord Merrick has very much been behaving as one. It is in one of his houses
that you have been living, is it not? Duncan said so. And this is another one
of his estates. I am right, am I not, Cassandra?”

Cassandra rose and paced the room. It was a lovely room,
shimmering in yellow silk in the morning sun now that the draperies had been
pulled back. The park beyond rippled in emerald colors into a distant blue. The
sea probably crashed against the shore beyond that line of lawn and shrubs. It
was a beautiful setting for her mother. She could see her getting well here. If
she could marry Wyatt... If this were the best of all possible worlds...

She shook her head and swung to face her mother. “Wyatt
would have me for wife were it not for Rupert. I would have him for husband
were it not for Duncan. As you can see, it is quite impossible.”

“That is not all of it, is it? If what you say is true, your
marriage can be annulled. For all he is my son, I cannot tell you how to
control Duncan. He is too much like his father, and I never made any impression
on him. But I cannot believe Duncan is the only reason that you find this
marriage impossible. Has Merrick found out that you are not a Howard? Is that
why he cried off earlier?”

She really could not stand another shock. Cassandra crumpled
into the nearest chair and stared at her mother. How was it possible for a
person to change so overnight? “Merrick did not cry off, I did,” she whispered.

Elizabeth frowned. “Because of your father? Or because of
Duncan?”

“Both. I could not wish him hurt, Mother. He is too good a
man.”

“And you think you do not deserve him? That is certainly not
spoken like a Howard. What have I done to you, Cass? You are the best of us.
You deserve whatever you can have. Merrick is no fool. I am not certain that he
is right for you. But do not construct obstacles between you.”

Cassandra’s fingers bit into her palm. “As long as we are
opening my life, what about yours, Mother? Who is my father? Are you ashamed of
him? Is that why you have never spoken of him?”

Lady Eddings patted the seat beside her. “Do not sit across
the room as if we are strangers. You always used to sit on the bed beside me.”

Cassandra took the chair she had abandoned earlier. She did
not know whether she felt dread or hope now that the moment was near. For so
long she had heard of the greatness of the Howard family. She knew their
ancient history better than her own. To finally and at long last be severed
from it was frightening.