Chapter Nineteen #2
“While you were out, Harbury and I—thanks to the assistance of the groomsman—have exchanged several messages.”
“About what?”
“Marriage. I proposed to him.”
“No!” Eliza sat up. “You didn’t!”
Cassie shrugged. “Harbury got all of us into this mess, but I bear responsibility, too. I was too timid to pull away or give him the set-down he deserved. Too timid because—oh, Eliza—I wanted him to notice me. I feel like I willed him to notice me.”
“But everything I did was to save you from Harbury!”
Cassie cupped her sister’s cheek. “I know. And I appreciate everything you have tried to do—and for the best of reasons. I was angry that night. Harbury humiliated me when he said he’d simply needed a distraction.
But I’ve since come to believe the duke is not quite as terrible as we first imagined him to be. ”
“Cassie!” Eliza urgently grasped her sister’s hand. “Harbury’s long been in love with someone else.”
“I know,” Cassie replied, unconcerned. “He admitted as much. I might hesitate to marry him if Lady Pennington, returned his love. But she can’t, can she? She married Pennington just last year.”
“Are you sure about Harbury? I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself like Mother.”
“I’m not like Mother. Besides, I think Father was able to her hurt her so badly because she loved him. I have no illusions about Harbury. He’s demonstrated his faults quite plainly.”
“Then why?”
She shrugged. “I find him attractive. I find his company pleasant. Once, I thought I saw a rather heated look in his eye that I won’t mind seeing again.” Cassie grinned mischievously. “But my heart is in no danger, so I can’t be in danger.”
Eliza stared at her sister in stunned silence.
“Eliza, he’s an honorable man—”
“What makes you say so?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t have to agree to this courtship, did he?”
Eliza snorted. “Asquith put a gun to his head.”
“Asquith,” she said derisively. “I don’t believe he truly frightened the duke, do you? Besides, I’ve spoken with Harbury’s sister. Lady Sarah agrees I would make Harbury an excellent wife.”
“But you could have anybody! Every man wants a sweet, biddable wife.”
“I choose him. My mind is made up. Please don’t waste time trying to dissuade me. He’s already accepted my demands. I’ve accepted his.”
“His demands? What demands—”
Cassie silenced Eliza with a finger over her mouth. “That is between Harbury and me. What’s done is done. Our betrothal is to be announced at the Harbury ball tomorrow. Trust me?”
Eliza frowned. “You aren’t giving me much of a choice.”
Cassie smiled. “A trick I learned from you.”
“Please don’t sacrifice yourself for my sake.”
“I’m not. I’m making this choice for me.” She tucked Eliza’s hair behind her ear. “But what wouldn’t I do to make sure my sisters had a chance at happiness?”
Eliza sighed. “There’s nothing you can do for me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I may not be privy to the details of your circumstance, but no matter what your quarrel, something tells me Adrian”—she sent Eliza a significant glance—“will come around.”
Eliza shook her head. “You weren’t there. You can’t even imagine the things I said to him.” The things she’d done to him.
“No. But I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
Eliza wasn’t convinced.
Yes, he’d looked at her with love in his eyes. He’d even told the Blackbird he thought he’d fallen in love. But everything would change once he realized she and the Blackbird were one in the same.
How could he love the woman who made him beg? The woman who’d insisted he be bound?
The next morning was the first in a very long time Adrian had awakened feeling hopeful.
First, he’d speak with Caroline, and then, later, Mr. Vane. After his family business was resolved, he’d call on Asquith ask for permission to propose to Miss Wainwright at the Harbury ball. By tonight, everything would be resolved.
When he reached D’Acre house, he found Caroline and Emily already on the front steps about to take an outing.
“Two fraternal visits in one week.” Caroline’s eyes softened with indulgence. “You’re one very lucky girl.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Emily looped one arm through Caroline’s and the other through Adrian’s, just as she had when she’d been younger. “Do come strolling with us, Adrian.”
Caroline raised a brow and shrugged. “Doesn’t look as if she’s going to leave you much of a choice, Adrian.”
The story of his life, of late. “Where were the two of you headed?”
“I had been thinking Bond Street,” Caroline replied.
“Hush, Mama! He’ll never agree to go shopping!”
“I daresay he would not. Why don’t we take a walk-through St. James’s, then?”
“Oh, yes!” Emily bounced. “A glass of warm milk would be just the thing!”
Adrian would have rather imbibed anything other than warm milk—including Almack’s tepid, tasteless lemonade—but he agreed. He had several things he wanted to discuss with Caroline and the cow herd would prove a useful distraction for Emily.
Together, they set off. Emily, as usual, chattered excitedly, the wonderful Misses Wainwright being her topic of choice.
“Is Miss Cassie not the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, Adrian? And that Millie! She’s ever so droll. I found Lenora both mischievous and quite clever, and Annette amusing as you please. What fun we all had!”
“And Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, curious to hear his sister’s opinion of the Wainwright sister who mattered most to him.
“Oh, Miss Eliza! She did not join us for the dancing, but I think her ever so stylish. Do you not agree, Adrian?”
Yes, Adrian agreed, adding the word to his own growing mental list.
Stylish. Pretty. Observant. Kind to those she deemed worthy.
He was penciling in shades of her character daily, and the clearer the picture became, the more he wanted to spend time on the details. But before he could fully commit to the work, he had a few loose ends in need of tidying.
“I never thought I’d look forward to dancing lessons,” Emily exclaimed as they passed through the gate. “Did you see Miss Lenora mimic a dandy? I’ve never laughed so hard—oh, look, the cows! Might I go on ahead?”
“Go on, Piccola.” He chucked her chin. “We, the aged, will keep to our leisurely pace.”
Caroline smiled. “You’d think I’ve kept you locked away from the girls your own age, the way you carry on.”
“Don’t be silly, Mama. You’re wonderful, too. It’s just…” Emily’s eyes went soft and distant. “How lovely it must be to have a sister.”
Yes. Eliza—and, by extension the rest of the wonderful Misses Wainwright—could become part of an extended familial connection to the D’Acres.
He nudged Emily’s shoulder. “Sisters can be quite the trial.”
“Go on!” Emily rapped him back on his arm. “You adore me.”
“That, I do.”
He had loved Emily since she was born. Vowed, in fact, that he’d never allow another sibling to be lost to him. He hadn’t left his father’s household until he’d been certain Emily would be safe in Caroline’s hands.
Caroline. He gave her a sidelong glance. Who’d been chosen for his father by Bessie and his mother. He turned back to Emily.
“Be off, scamp,” he said.
“And be mindful of your shoes!” Caroline called.
Emily skipped on down the slope, while calling out and waving to her favorite of the milk maids.
“Not exactly the picture of propriety, is she?” Caroline mused.
When he gave her no answer, she turned. Her smile faded at this sight of his obviously troubled expression.
“What’s the matter?”
“I had an interesting talk with Mrs. Dove-Lyon last night.”
Caroline stiffened as if bracing for impact. “I thought you might have gone to the Lyon’s Den yesterday afternoon. You finally saw the familial resemblance, didn’t you?”
“Yes. And while I was there, I read my mother’s letters. All of them. Caroline.” He didn’t mask his disappointment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh, Adrian, don’t be angry.”
“I’m not angry. Just…perplexed. You could have had your pick of any suitor. Why go to Mrs. Dove-Lyon and arrange a match with my father, knowing what he was? Why agree to any of this?”
“Believe me, I had plenty of suitors.” She pursed her lips as if she’d tasted something bitter. “Not the kind seeking marriage, but the kind who wished to place me under their protection, to offer me carte blanche.”
Adrian winced.
“I was of good family,” she continued, “but when my father died in the middle of my first Season, he left me with no money, and no male relations to guard me from their importuning…”
He’d never really considered what life must be like for an attractive, genteel, but impoverished lady. “Still, I don’t understand. Did Bessie convince my father to wed you?”
“He was one of my most ardent pursuers. He wanted me for a mistress. He would never have offered more, but for Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s threats. She’d told him she knew about the baby.”
“And he didn’t take this forcing of his hand out on you?”
“Never. Bessie can be very…persuasive—”
He interrupted her with a bitter laugh. “Yes, I know.”
“And what I told you before was true. The moment I laid eyes on Emily, I knew I would protect her with my life. Before God, I promised I would care for your father. I’ve kept both promises.”
“That you have…and at great cost.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “Your father was, in his own way, a decent husband to me.”
“Meaning he kept quiet about his affairs, rather than flaunting them as he had when married to my mother.”
“The divorce broke him.”
“The divorce. My mother’s betrayals. My joining the army. He always had some grievance.”
“I know.” She snorted. “You have no idea how well I know.”
“Bessie says that after my mother died, you kept up a correspondence with Mr. Vane.”
She paled. “I did. And, when he decided to make his life here, I allowed him to visit Emily.” Her gaze fell. “I know I’ve broken your trust, but Emily took to him—”
“Emily,” he replied, “takes to everyone.”
“Yes, but she said there was something she liked especially about Mr. Vane. And he was so good with her. So interested in everything she had to say—and not in the kind of encroaching manner of most young men.”