In the Garden of Seduction (24 page)

“Are you all right, love?” he asked, patting
the slim hand that rested on his forearm. “I didn’t think he would
let you come.”

Cassandra sent him a reassuring smile. “I
didn’t give Grandfather much choice. I told him I was coming with
or without his consent. He and I agreed it would be easier if we
worked together.”

She avoided her father’s probing stare, the
questions lurking in his warm, caring eyes. Instead, she sat on the
sofa. “Come, sit with me,” she said. “Tell me how you’ve been. Have
you lost weight? You look thinner.”

“Do I?” he asked, joining her. He rubbed his
hand over his still generous middle. “There’s not much reason to
linger over a table of one.”

“Papa, I’m sorry.”

“Now, now, I’m not wallowing in self-pity.
It isn’t as though you were going to live with me forever. I have
managed well enough.” He paused for a moment but did not look
directly at her. “Lately, I’ve made some new friends.”

Cassandra could not decide what in his tone
caught her attention or why she suddenly was filled with misgiving.
She sensed a change in her father and it frightened her. What was
it? Rather than risk a painful answer, she refused to ask.

“How nice,” she managed over a tongue gone
numb. “I think I would like to go to my room and rest for a while.
Do you mind? I feel drained.”

“Of course not, my dear. This is an
emotional time for us both. We’ll visit when you’ve had a chance to
recover.”

Cassandra entered her bedchamber several
minutes later, and for the first time she felt at home. She plopped
down on an ottoman, absorbing the familiar surroundings—her bed,
the drapes, the carpet. Everything was just as she had left it. So
why had the atmosphere been strange downstairs? And most
frightening of all, why had Papa seemed different?

Was it true one could never go home
again?—at least, not to the same home? Had everything changed so
that she and her father could no longer relate to each other as
they had in the past? Perhaps he had already begun to release his
hold on her, had accepted that she did not belong to him. The
thought made her throat ache.

Since the moment she had left London, she
had thought of little else but returning here. Every day had been a
struggle, with a grandfather who wished to dictate her life and a
cousin whose only concern was for his own future.

Then there was Lord Sutherfield.

The marquess had insinuated himself into her
life like a tiny splinter works its way into tender flesh. The
wound was raw, the pain profound. Yet she missed him. How could she
pine for someone who caused her such distress?

What did it matter? She would probably never
see Simon again. In time she would forget him. Must forget him.
Cassandra hoped she was right, for she found it unbearable that the
injury to her heart might be a permanent condition.

*****

“Cassie, I’m so happy,” Sophy said as the
footman helped her from the carriage. “It seems forever since you
and I took a walk in Hyde Park.”

Cassandra joined her on the ground. “It has
been a while, hasn’t it?” She turned to the driver. “One hour,” she
said. She linked arms with her friend, and they started down the
path with the footman following at a discreet distance.

“I come with Lily Tisdale on occasion,”
Sophy continued, “but she’s ugly as a mud post, poor thing, and
it’s not nearly as much fun. You’re very beautiful and all the
gentlemen stare, which makes me feel as though I’m sharing in the
attention.”

Cassandra smiled and she squeezed her
companion’s arm affectionately. “Sophy, how I’ve longed to see
you.”

Sophy’s plain face flushed a bright pink.
“You know it’s the truth, even if you’re too modest to admit it.
Now that you know you’re the granddaughter of an earl, you may
socialize with all those gentlemen who have ogled you in the
past.”

“To be honest with you, I don’t think I want
to socialize with an ogler. If I wasn’t good enough then, well…”
She shrugged. “I am perfectly happy with the people I’ve known all
my life.”

“But, Cassie, things are different now. You
can’t go back. You have expectations.”

“So I’ve been told repeatedly.” Cassandra
could feel her irritation surfacing. “What should I do, refuse to
acknowledge all my old friends? Should I stop associating with you
because I am the granddaughter of an earl? I refuse to accept that
everything is different.”

Cassandra hated showing her impatient side,
but since her arrival home three days earlier, Sophy’s opinion had
been the attitude of everyone. Worst of all, her father seemed to
accept that her life would be changed forever. She felt caught
between two worlds, belonging to neither.

“Forgive me, Cassie.” Sophy came to a stop
and stared at her companion through large hazel eyes, round with
hurt. “I thought you were pleased with your new prosperity.”

“I should ask your forgiveness, Sophy. I’ve
wanted to see you so much, and once I do I start an argument. My
behavior is insufferable.”

“Are you unhappy?” Sophy asked.

“I don’t know.” That was a lie. “I wanted
everything to be the same as if I’d not been away at all. I suppose
it was silly of me.”

A shadow fell across Cassandra and Sophy,
startling both young ladies. Sophy covered her mouth and squealed
in fright.

A horse and rider blocked the path, and for
a moment the only thing in Cassandra’s line of vision was a highly
polished Hessian-clad foot. A long, lean leg extended beyond the
boot, muscles in the hard thigh bunching as the limb gripped the
animal.

Even before she saw the man’s face she knew.
Her lungs contracted painfully.

“Miss James, did you think to escape me?”
His speech was quiet, almost sinister.

She heard Sophy gasp beside her, but
Cassandra could not tear her gaze from the compelling figure in
front of her. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Lord
Sutherfield.” She spoke in a feathery voice, trying to find her
breath.

“That’s odd. I had the impression you did
not intend to say good-bye. Why is that, do you suppose?”

“I did tell you good-bye, my lord.”

“Is that what that was?”

“I thought I was very clear,” she defended
herself.

The marquess raised black eyes and looked
over her head. At the same time Cassandra heard someone approaching
on the path. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted her servant
trotting toward them, wearing a concerned expression.

“It’s all right, Farley. This is Lord
Sutherfield. He…ah, that is to say, he is an acquaintance of
mine.”

A stiff silence followed while the footman
took stock of the situation. Farley nodded. “If you need me, miss,”
he said, sending a look of misgiving in the direction of the
marquess. He backed away to a discreet distance but stayed in
sight.

Lord Sutherfield dismounted. He held his
horse by the reins and moved closer to the ladies. His attention
shifted to Sophy.

“I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to
your lovely companion, Miss James.” He gazed at Sophy in that way
he had that made a woman’s heart quiver with excitement.

Sophy was struck dumb. Her eyes had taken on
a glazed look, and her mouth hung open in a most unattractive
way.

“This is Miss Willis. You’ve met her.”
Cassandra spoke sharply but her rudeness stemmed from uneasiness.
Sophy’s response to the marquess was not reassuring, for it
underscored her own vulnerability regarding the man.

Lord Sutherfield seemed unaware of
Cassandra’s ruffled feelings. She knew he was not. He smiled at
Miss Willis, took her hand in his and placed a slow kiss on her
knuckles. “I remember,” he said, raising a warm gaze to hers.

“Oh…” Sophy did not appear capable of
managing more response than that.

The marquess continued to smile in a
persuasive manner at his newest conquest, all the while holding her
hand. “Do you think, Miss Willis, it would be all right if I had a
few words in private with Miss James? Nothing improper, you
understand.”

“Yes, yes, I see no harm.” Sophy fluttered
her lashes and beamed at him inanely.

Cassandra wanted to strangle her. Why, Sophy
looks as though something is caught in her eye, she thought.
Couldn’t she see how the marquess was manipulating her?

“Perhaps another day, Lord Sutherfield,”
Cassandra stated, rigid with disapproval.

“Miss James, come. You’re not going to treat
an old friend like that, are you? Just a moment of your time—even
Miss Willis approves, don’t you, Miss Willis?”

He sent Sophy another meaningful look and
her friend visibly melted.

“Only a moment, my lord.” Sophy giggled. “I
shall be on that bench taking a little sun. Don’t be long.”

Cassandra felt as if Sophy had handed her
over to the care of a scoundrel. Her temper rose precariously but
it was too late. The marquess had already taken her arm.

“Stay with Miss Willis,” she tossed at the
footman as the marquess pulled her down the shaded path.

“Why are you following me?” she spat as soon
as they were out of earshot.

“I told you we were not finished, Cassandra.
I meant it.”

He looked down at her from the edge of his
eyes, and against her will a shiver of excitement coursed through
her belly.

“I don’t see how you can think that. It’s
not just for you to decide.”

“Of course not, love.” There was laughter in
his voice. “You agree with me wholeheartedly.”

“I do not. How can you say that?”

“Because that is how I feel, and I won’t
accept that you don’t feel the same. I warn you, I’m used to having
my way.”

Simon came to an abrupt stop, surprising not
only Cassandra but his horse. The animal snorted his
disapproval.

They had reached a bend in the path and
could no longer see Sophy where she rested on the bench.

“Lord Sutherfield,” Cassandra began.

“Call me Simon. I insist.”

“All right…Simon,” she bit out. Frustrated,
she paused to collect her thoughts. “This has to end. It is one
thing to carry on a flirtation in the country, but we are in the
city again.”

He grabbed her elbow, pulling her close. “A
flirtation? Is that what it meant to you?”

“What else was it?” Something primitive
thrummed in her blood when he touched her, and she was seized by
panic. If his very nearness sent her emotions spinning out of
control, how could she send him away?

“There is a moment in a rose garden that
haunts my dreams,” Simon whispered in a thick voice, “a sweet
torture that makes sleep almost impossible. I’m disappointed if you
weren’t touched as I was.”

Cassandra was unable to lie. “I never said I
was untouched,” she said, though she had trouble looking at
him.

Something gleamed in his eye when she
glanced back at him, something triumphant.

“Then all will be well,” he promised
huskily. “I admit I’ve been worried, but now I won’t let anything
stand in my way—for both our sakes.” His gaze grew smoky as he
tenderly placed his hand to her cheek. He lowered his mouth to
hers.

Until that moment she would have denied how
much she wanted him to kiss her. She had missed Simon. Cassandra
found herself leaning into him and, as his arms came around her,
absorbing the warmth and excitement of his embrace.

She trailed her hand up to his neck and
tangled her fingers in the hair at his collar, holding on to him. A
low growl slipped from his throat.

He deepened the kiss.

A movement on the trail caused them to draw
apart guiltily. Simon stood in front of Cassandra, wedging her
between himself and his horse to protect her from the curious
stares of two couples who came into view. The small group walked
passed them without speaking, but she heard the eruption of sudden
whispers as they moved out of sight.

“I knew it, Lord Sutherfield,” Cassandra
whispered furiously. “You will ruin me before you are through. I
must be the most stupid woman alive.”

“You promised to call me Simon.”

His smile was so innocent she wanted to
throttle him. “This is ludicrous. I’m not willing to start that
with you again.”

She pulled away with the intention of
leaving him where he stood, but he grabbed hold of her wrist. His
eyes narrowed ominously.

“Understand one thing, Cassandra, I am
deadly serious. If I seem lighthearted it is only because I don’t
want to frighten you.” He took her arm. “We’ll return to your
friend as though nothing is wrong. Your indifference will keep Miss
Willis in the dark. After all,” he said, leering suggestively at
her, “anger is a strong emotion that means one cares. So yell at
me. Make me a happy man.”

Cassandra opened her mouth and then snapped
her jaws shut. She would not give him the satisfaction of thinking
she cared. Silently, they retraced the path to where Sophy waited,
the marquess towing his horse.

“Miss Willis,” Simon called, “we have
returned. We weren’t long, were we?”

Sophy jumped from her seat on the bench and
trotted toward them. “Not at all, my lord,” she gushed. “You’re
such a gentleman. You did just as you said you would.”

The marquess raised a brow at her. “Was
there some doubt?”

Cassandra’s friend blushed a bright pink.
“N-no, of course not,” she stammered, but finished in perfect
honesty, “though I am glad to see you both.”

Lord Sutherfield’s laughter filled the air.
“Miss Willis, you are a delight. I’m glad Miss James has an ally in
you.”

“She is my very best friend,” Sophy said.
“Aren’t you Cassandra?”

“Yes, dear,” the best friend murmured
mournfully. In a few short moments the marquess had bewitched
Sophy, and inexplicably Cassandra felt betrayed. She turned a
bemused look on the footman who approached at that moment. “What is
it, Farley?”