In the Garden of Seduction (16 page)

He nodded. “I will tell him his beautiful
red-haired angel flew in and blessed him while he slept.” His
eyelids drooped. “I’ll not tell him what the beautiful angel did
for me.”

Cassandra’s hand went to her warm cheek. “I
blush more in your presence than I ever have in my whole life. Is
there nothing you won’t say?”

“If I put before you everything that is
teeming in my lust-filled brain, you would run from me in
fear.”

“I’m already afraid of you, my lord.”

She reached for the doorknob. Stepping into
the hall, she tossed him one more look filled with misgiving and,
with as much dignity as she could muster, made her departure.

*****

Simon watched her leave. He stood at the
threshold of the chamber, his arm over his head, elbow resting
against the doorjamb.

It wasn’t him she feared. He had felt her
response to his kiss. But when she had moaned against his mouth, he
had thought his own desire would rise up and overtake him. Although
he could not deny her face and body drew him in the beginning, her
passion incited him. Her fevered answer to his kiss had been the
reason he had almost lost control.

He wondered, reentering the room and closing
the door, if she knew how near she had come to losing her virtue.
He suspected she had been close to yielding to him, and that had
been a heady discovery. So why had he allowed her to slip from his
grasp when it seemed his most fervent desire was about to be
realized?

Simon did not seduce virgins, yet somehow he
had separated Miss James from those tiresome females. She wasn’t a
woman of easy virtue, either. She was different. He had pulled back
because he did not want to hurt her.

He had probably scared her away once more.
The last time they were together it took a
fortnight
and an
emergency to bring her back to him. And he couldn’t take credit for
that. What would he do if she decided to avoid him again? The idea
that he might have to simply wait made him groan with
frustration.

Simon sighed as he took his seat next to the
bed. “Well, Tim, it’s just you and me,” he said.

He leaned against the chair back and closed
his eyes. He had just begun to doze when a tap at the door
interrupted his rest.

Harry entered the room. “Do you have a
minute, Simon?”

“I thought you had gone to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Harry crossed the chamber
and dropped down on the edge of the mattress. He stared at the
marquess for a moment before continuing. “I just saw Miss James to
her horse.”

“Is that why you could not sleep? Afraid I
might eat her?”

“This isn’t amusing, Simon. She looked upset
when she left.”

“Did she say anything?” Simon asked
cautiously.

“Not a word but she seemed on the verge of
tears.”

“What are you asking me, Harry?”

“Damned if I know. No, that’s not true. I
suppose I want to know what happened in here. You can tell me to go
to the devil if you like, but I’m not going to deny it has me
worried.”

Simon pulled in a deep breath and expelled
it through his mouth. He came forward in his chair. “I kissed her.”
Suddenly, he was unable to meet his friend’s gaze.

“I had a feeling about all this,” Harry
said. “Miss James is a fine young lady, Simon. You will compromise
her if you continue this way. It would be different if you were not
playing cat and mouse with her, but you and I both know your
intentions are not serious.”

The marquess’ eyes narrowed. “What is Miss
James to you, Harry?”

“I like her—nothing more, nothing less,”
Harry said in a bland voice.

“So do I,” Simon agreed, relaxing. “Thing
is, I feel compelled to pursue her when I’m in her company.” He
raked his hands through his hair, chagrined with his inability to
explain himself. “I don’t like my behavior anymore than you
do.”

“Perhaps she is becoming important to you,”
Harry said, his attitude turning appraising.

“I hardly know her. Only foolish people
believe that love happens instantly. No,” he said, shaking his head
to emphasize his point, “it’s passion, Harry, that’s all. It’s that
damnable red hair—you know how I am about red hair.”

“I see what you mean. That hair on a
bran-faced woman, twice the size of Miss James, would have the same
effect. A shrew with that glorious mane would be turning you into
knots. Yes, yes, what you say makes perfect sense.”

“Bloody hell!” the marquess barked. “Don’t
look at me like that. I’m aware that I seem unreasonable.” He stood
and walked across the room, then spun around to face his friend.
“You want to know the truth? I want to bed her, and if she gives me
half a chance I’m going to do just that. If that makes me an
unprincipled fiend, so be it.”

Harry stood as well, and shoved his hands in
his pockets. “It’s not my aim to be a man’s conscience, Simon. I do
feel some responsibility, though. Lord Whittingham is my neighbor
and Miss James is his granddaughter.”

“I think we’ve had this discussion before,”
Simon said intractably. “I’ll just have to see this thing through
to the end, and I’m afraid you will have to bear with me.”

“Maybe you ought to think about settling
down. After all, you are of an age,” Harry ventured. “Heirs and all
that.”

“Dammit, man, you’re older than I am. How
about taking some of your own good advice.”

Harry sent him a smile filled with mockery.
“When I find a woman who does to me what Miss Cassandra James does
to you, I won’t hesitate for a moment. And why should I? When fate
takes a hand, you’re lost anyway, dear boy. All a fight does is
ensure much blood will be spilled before the ultimate surrender. I
never was one to engage in a battle I couldn’t win.”

And on that enigmatic note he exited the
chamber.

Simon gritted his teeth. That annoying
little bastard had a full-blown talent for making one think.
Unfortunately, thinking was the last thing he wanted to do right
now.

What he did want was to steep himself in the
memory of the kiss he had shared with Miss James. He wanted to
remember her rising passion and where it could have led them. He
wanted to imagine her voluptuous body beneath his probing hands,
her warm thighs cradling his hips as he made love to her. Those
reflections were more than welcome.

Too bad the very fantasies meant to distract
him from thinking about the future had the added effect of keeping
him awake and frustrated. He returned to his room, but it was some
time later before he finally fell into a restless sleep.

*****

The ride home for Cassandra was a blur as a
host of images clouded her brain. She had believed Lord Sutherfield
when he said he would help Timothy, but until she had seen for
herself she could not rest. Still, she had not expected to walk
into the situation that awaited her. She was as green as grass, she
thought angrily.

Why did he hound her, forcing her to
experience feelings that were completely unwelcome? It was wrong
for a gentleman to attempt to seduce a virtuous young lady.
Cassandra wondered if his actions came from a lack of respect.

Yet he had held himself back tonight. She
had been dangerously close to losing her virginity, and she had not
been the one in control. That more than anything frightened her.
Given another day like today, if he decided to finish what he had
begun, would she be able to resist?

She could not honestly answer in the
affirmative. She must make sure not to be in that position again,
she decided. Lord Sutherfield posed a very real threat, and it was
her duty to keep herself out of harm’s way.

The day had broken. The sky glowed pink with
the coming sun, and Cassandra entered her grandfather’s stable yard
with trepidation. She had no hope of evading the servants. They
would be up and moving about by now, but perhaps she wouldn’t have
to face her relatives yet.

The head groom met her at the barn
entrance.

“Mr. Donner, how are you this wonderful
day?” she greeted with false enthusiasm.

“I do well, miss,” he said coolly. “You’ve
been out riding? I want you to please call someone if you need a
horse saddled. Surely your grandfather would not like you riding
without a groom in attendance.”

Cassandra cringed under his disapproving
stare. She had forgotten that she was riding astride. She wanted to
ask him not to tell on her, but she was too proud to grovel. He had
probably made up his mind, anyway.

She slid from the mare’s back without
waiting for the groom’s help. “You are right, Mr. Donner. I’m still
learning the rules, I’m afraid. I’ll do better next time.”

He thawed a little. “Yes, miss, I
understand. You just ask for me. I’ll help with whatever you
need.”

Cassandra flashed him a brilliant smile as
she turned toward the house. She had lied to the groom, of course.
Quintin James would have scolded her roundly if he had caught her
riding without a saddle and groom.

She let herself in through the kitchen,
ignoring the startled looks of the servants preparing the morning
meal. Her grandfather would not be down to breakfast for at least
twenty minutes, so she headed for the main staircase. She was
grateful that he lived by a rigid schedule.

Only a half dozen steps from her door and
safety, her game was discovered.

“Cassandra?” Roger approached her from his
room at the end of the hall, a deep furrow creasing his brow. “Why
are you awake at this hour?”

She swung around to look at him. “Roger, are
you awake as well? This must be an early morning for everyone.
Except Penelope, that is.”

“Why are you dressed like that? You look
terrible.”

“I wanted to ride my horse in comfort.
That’s why I went early, so no one would see me.” She sent him a
hopeful smile.

He sniffed, his nostrils pinched with
disapproval. “You must learn, Cassandra, there are some things a
lady does and some things a lady does not do. Riding over the
countryside like a hoyden is unacceptable behavior.”

Her conciliatory effort evaporated into
anger. This had been a difficult morning, and she was in no mood
for a lecture, especially from the likes of Roger.

“I am sorry you don’t approve of the way I
spent my morning, but it’s none of your business, Roger.”

He puffed up like an indignant toad. “It is
my business,” he countered. “As your future husband it’s my duty to
see that you conduct yourself in a proper fashion. I have my
reputation to consider as well as yours. I’ll not be embarrassed by
you.”

He could not have said anything to aggravate
her more. “Frankly, I don’t care if I embarrass you or not. I’ve
told you before and I will tell you again, there is no marriage in
our future.”

Something shifted in his gaze that served as
a subtle warning, and Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat.
Roger grabbed her by the arms, much as the marquess had done, and
set his fleshy lips to hers. It was an angry kiss, passionless, and
she was filled with disgust.

He flung her from him. “We will marry. I
suggest you get used to the idea.”

He turned and stalked away, leaving her with
her mouth hanging open.

Cassandra found her room and twisted the
knob with a shaky hand. She crossed to the bed and sat down, her
knees weak. She had grown careless where Roger was concerned, but
this last episode served as a reminder that her cousin was not as
harmless as he seemed. Suddenly, she felt less certain of her
ability to control what was happening to her.

Strangest of all was the realization that
not only Roger but another gentleman had kissed her in the span of
an hour. Her response to each man had been so different, she
wondered if something was wrong with her. The marquess had left her
trembling with desire. Roger had made her feel like emptying her
stomach in the nearest chamber pot.

One thing was for certain, she had no
intention of spending the remainder of her life married to a man
she prayed would not be too demanding. She must convince her
grandfather and Roger that their plan for her future was not
possible. What she hoped with regard to Lord Sutherfield, she
refused to think about.

*****

“Miss, there’s a commotion outside on the
drive. Your grandfather has requested your presence.”

Cassandra pushed back her chair, coming to
her feet from the desk where she penned a letter to Sophy. “What is
it, Toby?” she asked, smoothing her skirt.

“A man has arrived demanding the return of
his son.”

Her chest tightened with dread. If it was
who she feared, she was about to be in a great deal of trouble. She
nodded at the servant, following him from the room.

She passed through the main hall and out the
front entrance. A disreputable looking person had taken up a
belligerent stance on her grandfather’s front step. The man reeled
on unsteady feet, seemingly unconcerned with his drunken
condition.

“That’s her,” he yelled.

She sent her grandfather an uncertain glance
as the old man turned to look at her.

“Cassandra, this is Mr. Bailey. Says his son
Timothy has been missing for more than four days. Claims Timothy
was the boy you found by the side of the road.” The earl gave her a
penetrating stare as he continued. “I’ve explained to him that his
son was taken back on the very night that you discovered him. He
disagrees with me.”

Cassandra was not an easy liar, but the need
for an immediate answer gave her inspiration. She took a deep
breath and blurted, “We discovered the little boy was not Mr.
Bailey’s son.”

An odd hush descended upon the servants who
had gathered on the drive to watch the proceedings. Mr. Fennigan,
part of the small group, watched his mistress with a keen but
impassive expression. Presumably, he waited to see what she would
say next before he indicted himself.