Chapter Seventeen #2
He took his leave with a lighter heart than he’d had when he arrived.
And, as he mounted the steps to Harbury hall, he heard the sound of wild barking.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, Mercy—ears flopping and claws rat-a-tatting against marble—circled him in ever more exuberant rings.
Harbury glanced down with affection. The dog was thrilled, but also anxious.
Ever since Cassie left, he’d had taken up a place at the door.
“As soon as she comes home,” he said as he scooped up the pup, “we will tell her how much we missed her, won’t we?”
“If you had half a brain, you wouldn’t wait. You’d be at Ravenswood, on your knees.”
Harbury swiveled toward the voice. “Adrian!”
Adrian stood with his boots crossed at the ankle, leaning against the balustrade as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But, Harbury noted, he was still wearing his greatcoat. As they exchanged a hearty handshake, Mercy sniffed at Adrian as if he weren’t quite certain if the man were friend or foe.
“Oh, now that your protector has returned, you’re brave enough to sniff me.
” Adrian tickled behind Mercy’s ear, settling the matter in Adrian’s favor—friend.
“I’ve heard about you. Insufferably adorable, just as reported.
” He transferred his gaze to Harbury. “You, on the other hand, look like the devil.”
“No doubt.” He kept hold of the dog, just in case. He might need comforting, depending on what Adrian had to say. “I’m surprised you could tear yourself away from Eliza. To what to I owe the pleasure?”
“On horseback, the ride is no more than a few hours. Besides, I came at my wife’s behest.”
Adrian had come because Eliza had asked him to do so? “Has my wife sent a message, too?”
“Cassie doesn’t know I’m here.”
Cassie.
He tamped down an irrational flare of jealousy. Of course, Adrian was on family terms with his wife. He was her brother-in-law.
“But before we discuss Cassie, there’s something else I’d like to know.” Adrian leveled his gaze. “I heard Lady Pennington is on the estate, is that true?”
“Lady Pennington is staying at Rose Cottage,” he confirmed, resenting the implication in Adrian’s tone.
Only he hadn’t any more cause for his resentment than he’d had for his jealousy. Adrian hadn’t been with him over the last few weeks. As far as Adrian knew, the last time Harbury had seen Lady Pennington, Harbury had lost his head.
“As a matter of fact,” Harbury continued, “I’ve just come from there. I went over there to secure our Mercy.” He hefted the dog and tilted his head. “Do you hear that?” He spoke directly to the spaniel. “I’ve bought you fair and square. You belong to Cassandra and me for good.”
Mercy yipped, lifting his head to snuggle beneath Harbury’s chin.
“Mutt negotiations?” Adrian lifted his brows and shook his head. “That’s all you discussed?”
“We discussed the past, too. Briefly.”
“Briefly?” Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Would you have me believe you reminisced with Lady Pennington and felt nothing?”
“I wouldn’t say nothing.” He rolled his shoulder to ease his discomfort.
“Seeing her will always be, oh, I don’t know…
like witnessing a memory come to life. No longer painful, merely distant.
And, before you even ask, no, I wouldn’t have gone over there if I hadn’t wanted to make clear my intention to keep Mercy.
He was Lady Pennington’s by right, but he’s stolen Cassie’s heart. ”
Adrian raised his brows. “I’m glad you were able to settle the matter. But are you actually saying you’ve finally realized I was right all along where Viv is concerned?”
Harbury snorted. “You never did like Lady Pennington.”
“No. I didn’t like you when you were with Vivianne.”
Harbury cocked his head. Harsh words. Painful, too.
“Oh, don’t look so hurt.” Adrian elbowed him. “You know very well once you set Viv on a nonpareil’s pedestal, you had no choice but to become her rabid, growling guard—a guard who would nip and snarl at anyone who threatened to topple her, especially your father.”
Adrian had placed a thumb against a scale Harbury had already abandoned.
But he wasn’t wrong.
“Frankly,” Adrian continued, “you were exhausting.”
Harbury frowned as different scenes from over the years flashed through his head. Yes, he’d repeatedly made a fool of himself for Lady Pennington. And some of that may have had to do with rebellion.
“I don’t think I liked myself much then, either,” Harbury said finally.
His younger self had wanted what he’d thought he’d found in Lady Pennington—an idol to worship. Perfection to admire. When his wrung-out rag of a heart had lost the will to worship, he’d chosen pretty dutiful, sweet Cassie as an alternative.
But, even then, there’d been the glimmer of something more, hadn’t there?
A diamond no one else could see, sparkling in the corner of his eye.
Marriage had been his aim. An ornamental duchess. But marriage, he’d since discovered, was not just a state of being, but the melding of lives. And Cassandra was not a decoration, but a lady with needs and desires, too.
A lady he loved.
And a lady he’d deeply disappointed.
“I miss her, Adrian. And I’m not sure I can make amends.”
Adrian scoffed. “Don’t be an ass.”
“I’m not being overly indulgent! I really am uncertain. I’ve bungled everything from the start…not that I expect you to understand. You and Eliza communicate so easily, you hardly need words.”
“A good thing, too, as, unlike you, we’ve had little time to ourselves since we wed. Not that I’m complaining. Between my sister and Wainwright ladies, the house has never been so full of chatter. You of all people understand what a drastic change that makes from the home I remember.”
Harbury nodded. “I’m glad. But how did the two of you form so quick and easy a bond?”
Adrian chuckled. “Even if I told you the whole story—which I am not at liberty to do—you wouldn’t believe me.” He smiled an enigmatic smile. “We are simply meant for one another.”
“Simply meant for one another isn’t much help.”
Adrian snorted. “For a romantic, you don’t know much about romance, do you?”
No. Harbury feared he did not.
Oh, he knew all about nurturing pain, wallowing in disappointment. But to save his home and his marriage, he would have to learn another way to be.
And learn fast.
“If I went back with you now, would she see me?”
“See you?” Adrian rolled his eyes. “Of course, she will see you. And if we leave now, we could be back at Ravenswood by nightfall.”
“I’ll get my coat.” He glanced down at Mercy. “And a satchel.”
*
Cassie stood at the window, part of the whole and yet separate, alone, listening to the sounds of Eliza’s guests as they laughed and mingled behind her, a sound she’d come to think of as bittersweet.
At first, being with her sisters had brought her comfort, but with every passing hour, she became increasingly aware of a growing emptiness within, a hollow only Harbury could fill.
She missed quiet breakfasts with her husband, the exchange of pleasant nothings that had quickly come to flavor her days.
With Adrian’s sister Emily, Lord Asquith, and Harbury’s cousin Lord Neville in residence at Ravenswood, breakfasts here were far louder and more boisterous, as boisterous, in fact, as the present gathering in the parlor.
A gathering minus one. Adrian had taken himself off before the morning meal. And, since Eliza hadn’t seemed concerned in the least when Adrian had not returned for tea, she suspected his destination had been Harbury Hall.
Would he come back alone? Or was she soon to be reunited with her husband?
She stared down at a miniature Harbury had given her just after they’d agreed to wed.
In the tiny painting, Harbury’s hair was darker than the shade she could vividly imagine running through her fingers.
His brow was slightly cocked, and his look was entirely raffish.
He appeared, in fact, exactly as she’d pictured the scoundrel from her favorite book.
“Harbury looks particularly dashing in that portrait.”
Cassie hadn’t noticed her sister Eliza glancing over her shoulder.
“Doesn’t he just?” Cassie resisted the urge to rub her finger across the protective glass. “He reminds me of a character from Sense and Sensibility. The one Marianne fell for first.”
“Willoughby?” Eliza cocked her head as she studied the miniature. “Perhaps. Harbury not only looks the part of a romantic rogue, but he’s also proven he can be a rogue, too.”
Cassie nodded in agreement. “Clearly, he is capable of falsehoods.” And of binding an innocent’s heart to his own, of carelessly breaking that heart in service of his own best interests.
Eliza sighed. “Too bad Harbury hasn’t suffered a similar punishment for his flaws.”
“Punishment?” Cassie frowned.
“Willoughby had to marry a jealous heiress, while Harbury—though equally undeserving—got you, one of the finest ladies I know.”
Cassie sent her sister a grateful smile.
“Elinor reminds me of you, you know.”
“Longsuffering?” Cassie chuckled half-heartedly. “Committed to duty above all else?”
“No,” Eliza drew out the single syllable. “Capable of deep and lasting happiness with a man who, eventually, proves himself worthy of her love.”
Cassie blinked away the sudden water in her eyes.
“Harbury will realize what he lost.” Eliza snaked an arm around her waist. “And soon. …If he knows what’s good for him,” she added under her breath.
“Will he?” Cassie asked rhetorically. She wasn’t sure.
She hadn’t left him in order to be chased, but she had expected to hear from him by now. For the last four days, she’d inquired about the post. And, though a packet had arrived all the way from London for Adrian—one dated after she’d left Harbury Hall—she’d received nothing.
Deep in her heart, she was starting to lose faith.
“Oh, heavens!” Eliza leaned toward the window.
“What’s wrong?” Cassie followed Eliza’s gaze. “I don’t see anything amiss.”
“Over there. Just outside the yew hedge.”