Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Where is Michael?” Cassian muttered to himself, aimlessly wondering why the butler hadn’t come to receive him.
When the carriage pulled to a halt before Everthorne House, Cassian stepped out with a stride too brisk to be natural, handing his hat and gloves to one of the footmen. Then, he stalked towards the ballroom.
Cassian crossed the hall, each footstep echoing softly, as he arrived at the ballroom door and pressed his palm against one handle, intending only to take a monitored peek inside. However, the moment he opened the door, he froze.
His vision filled at once with the sight of half-naked men.
Performers. Shirtless performers. Dozens of them, it seemed, scattered about the ballroom in various dramatic poses, and among them, surrounded, no less, were the Laurels, some of whom looked mortified, others intrigued, more still utterly bewildered.
Cassian saw red. Rage bubbled up from the pit of his stomach.
A roar of fury, silent but searing, ripped through him, his breath becoming tight in his throat. His heart slammed once, painfully, against his ribs, and then his eyes found her.
Lady Isabella.
And standing beside her was one of the men, peering intently at her, flushed cheeks, and parted lips, not caring one bit that she was staring at him in utter shock with her mouth agape.
His blood boiled.
Somehow, everyone looked like a deer caught in a bright torch, all frozen, as though they’d anticipated his arrival. It was then that he noticed Michael, and he narrowed his eyes.
That traitor.
“You are finished here.” Cassian strode into the room, the doors slamming back against the walls behind him. “Out! All of you. Get out of my house at once!”
The men scrambled, stumbling over themselves as they fled for the exit, their shirts half-tugged back on, and their bravado dissolving instantly. The fear in their eyes was almost palpable as they hastily glanced at Cassian on their way to the exit.
The Laurels followed, flustered, whispering, gathering their supplies as they hurriedly left under Cassian’s burning glare.
All except one.
Lady Isabella remained rooted where she stood, her spine straight, chin lifted, eyes sparking with the same fire that infuriated and piqued his interest beyond reason.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Cassian tore his gaze from her before he did something regrettable, turning instead to the person he assumed to be the culprit, the mastermind behind this disaster.
“Grandmother,” he seethed, “what in God’s name possessed you?” His jaw clenched almost painfully as he glared at her.
Lady Kendrick lifted her chin with far more bravery than any of those who had just scampered through the door. “No need to shout, Cassian. My hearing is perfectly adequate.”
“Perfectly adequate? You brought a troupe of half-naked performers into my home!” He roared, thrusting one arm in the air as he gestured to the whole room.
A few forgotten garments lay discarded across the floor, evidence of the haste that the men had used in their fright.
“I did.” His grandmother folded her hands neatly. “They were performing.” She shrugged, making a face that demonstrated her lack of interest I his anger.
“They were indecent.” He lowered his arm, gritting his teeth as he took another step toward her.
“It was part of the spectacle,” She answered, utterly unfazed by his advancement.
“That,” he snapped, “was unacceptable!”
His grandmother rolled her eyes in a manner that suggested she had raised him and was now regretting it. “Cassian, do calm yourself. The ladies needed something different, a little thrill, a change of pace.” Her tone was still even.
“They needed no such thing. They are impressionable young woman.” He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his anger.
His grandmother raised an eyebrow. “Well, I disagree. And since it is I who began this club and I who oversee its meetings—”
“I oversee this house,” Cassian snapped, his voice low as he cut her off.
Lady Kendrick did not flinch, but her chin lifted in challenge. “And I,” she replied, “am your grandmother. I may not command your household, Cassian, but do not presume I have lost my influence. I refuse to be spoken to in such a manner, and quite frankly, I think you owe me an apology.”
His jaw locked. “Influence,” he repeated. “Not authority. And certainly not a license to turn my ballroom into a cabaret! I shall not apologize when you were the one who betrayed my trust. Matters of this nature should be brought to my attention before they are arranged!”
“Oh, do stop growling,” she huffed, waving a dismissive hand. “I have endured that tone since you were in leading strings. It has never frightened me.”
“It was not meant to frighten,” he said, stepping closer, the shadow of him seeming to swallow the light between them. “It was meant to be heard.”
Her nostrils flared. “Then hear this in return,” she snapped.
“If you insist on strangling every spark of enjoyment these ladies might have, you’ll kill the club before it draws its first proper breath.
I am shocked by you, Cassian. For someone who does not wish to take a wife, you certainly care a great deal about the impressionability of young ladies. ”
“That,” he replied coldly, “might be a mercy.”
The corner of her mouth lifted into a teasing smile. “For the ladies of the ton not to wed you? I think we may have finally agreed upon something at last.”
Anger churned in his core once again as he glared at her. “I meant the demise of this blasted club!”
Lady Kendrick let out a sharp gasp. “Well,” she declared, gathering her skirts with queenly indignation, “I refuse to argue with a man who mistakes discipline for tyranny.”
She swept toward the exit, spine straight, voice loud enough to ensure the entire room heard. “Enjoy your gloom, Your Grace. I will not.”
She marched out, the doors slamming shut behind her.
And suddenly, the ballroom felt much too quiet.
Cassian exhaled slowly with his eyes closed before turning.
Which left only him and the one woman he least wished to be alone with.
Lady Isabella.
He looked at her, fury simmering beneath the surface—yet her gaze did not waver.
“You should not have spoken to her like that,” Isabella said calmly, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed her emotion.
Is she scared of me?
He sized her up for a moment, feeling his pulse quicken when his gaze swept over her bust and hourglass figure. He quickly lifted his eyes to her once again, pushing back the inappropriate thoughts that took hold of his mind.
No. She is not scared of me. She is far too calm for that.
He was almost impressed by her bravery as she stood her ground and glared at him.
“She meant no harm, and you hurt her feelings,” She added definitely.
He laughed once, sharply, the sound echoing across the empty hall. “I am not some tyrant seeking her downfall.”
“You forget yourself, Your Grace,” she said coldly. “Lady Kendrick was merely trying to bring joy to the ladies.”
“Joy?” He scoffed. “What I returned to was chaos. Nothing like it has ever been seen within the walls of this house. What will the parents of these young women say if they knew of the debauchery their daughters were exposed to?”
“What you saw,” she countered, “was something you do not understand.” Her eyes flashed fiercely with anger.
Cassian took a step closer. “What I understand is that I returned to my home to find half-clothed strangers parading around my ballroom filled with mostly unmarried women. Had something gone wrong, who would take responsibility? Do you understand me?”
She nodded, averting her gaze for no more than a second.
“I understand,” she shot back, “that you have no right to treat your grandmother with such contempt. Whether you agree with what happened here or not, you should have never spoken to her in such a manner.”
“Contempt?” His temper flared. “She acts on impulse. And lately, she seems far too eager to do your bidding.” His words slipped before he could stop them. “How am I to know you didn’t put her up to this?”
Her eyes widened as she raised a hand to her chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you, Lady Isabella,” he said darkly. “Every time I turn around, you’re the source of some new madness.” He gestured with his hands in front of him, encompassing all of the unspoken thoughts that had been driving him mad for days.
She had become the bane of his existence from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. She had haunted his dreams and thoughts without permission, and yet she had the gall to stand in front of him and defy him.
Isabella stepped toward him, an act so bold and infuriating that he forgot to breathe.
“Would you prefer it,” she demanded, “if I truly were the sort of lady you accuse me of being? Wild? Improper? Wanton?” She angled her chin to the side, defying him with every breath that made her chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm.
Her lips were close enough for him to devour her, but he focused on his breathing instead and took a deep breath.
“Yes—” The word tore free instinctively. “No,” he bit out immediately after, harsher, truer.
What am I saying?
Panic filled his chest as he realized that he had allowed lust to take over in the heat of the moment. Did he really think of her as a wanton lady of wiles? Or was it simply his longing to touch her that drove his words?
Her words were softer when she spoke, creating a thick atmosphere between them as her eyes dropped to his lips. “You reveal more than you intend, Your Grace,” her voice faltered as she took a deep breath, almost gasping in the process. .
Does she have the same kind of thoughts that I do?
The question sent a wave of heat shooting to his loins as he fought the urge to shift on his feet. She was far too close for his liking. There was no telling what he would do if they remained in this position for much longer.
Cassian’s restraint thinned to a razor-edge.
“You should not speak of impropriety,” he said lowly, stepping forward until she had no choice but to step back.
“Not when you seem to harbor an unhealthy fascination with scarcely dressed men.” His eyes raked over her body again, adding to his arousal that was becoming far too much for him to bear.
She straightened, offense lingering in her eyes, yet the dark look of something almost carnal remained.. “That is absurd, and you know it.” She breathed the words with bated breath.
“Do I?” he murmured, taking another step.
She backed up until the wall met her shoulders.
His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper.
“Is that not why you stared at my body that night? As though you’d forgotten how to breathe?
” He lifted a hand, using his thumb on her chin to angle her face toward his.
Heat rose violently up her neck and cheeks.
Her lips parted, and her eyes widened as her breath came in sharp, labored gasps.
Cassian’s control snapped at the hungry look in her eyes.
He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing the flushed skin of her cheeks, and pressed his mouth to hers. Roughly, hungrily giving in to the fire raging through his veins.
Isabella melted against him despite her anger, her fingers curling into his coat as if she despised herself for wanting more, and his hand slid to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as their bodies melted into one.
Her soft gasp broke him, and he deepened the kiss, unable to help himself as he searched the depths of her warm mouth with his tongue.
Moans of pleasure filled the air as he leaned into her, parting her thighs with his knee as he placed his weight firmly against hers.
Her body was pinned between his and the wall when he dropped his hands to her sides and allowed them to trace the shape of her body.
His thumbs stopped short of touching her breasts, brushing instead against the bottom swellings of the plump rounds.
Even through the stiff fabric of her corset and the ruffles of her dress, he could feel the plump fullness of her perfect bosoms.
A loud gasp escaped her throat when he left her lips, moving his kisses over her jaw until his tongue darted a path over the tender flesh of her neck.
“Cassian…” She breathed his name beside his ear as if it were the last breath she would ever breathe.
Her hands snaked up the back of his neck, pulling him closer before tangling her fingers in his hair.
He was losing control on the path to her chest. Each passionate kiss grew more and more eager with every flick of his tongue…
Until a door creaked, and they both pulled away instantly.
Snapping his head in the direction of the sound, Cassian struggled to regain control of his breathing.
A footman hurried into the ballroom, skidding to a halt mid-step, eyes widening as he looked from Cassian to Lady Isabella. “Your Grace—my apologies—b-but the actors are outside demanding their settlement…”
Cassian straightened at once, growling as he turned to the footman.
“Leave,” he snapped and jabbed a finger toward the door.
The footman vanished as though chased by wolves, and Cassian turned back to Isabella, only to find that she had slipped away from him as well.
She had run to the door and vanished before he could stop her, her footsteps silent in her haste, allowing him only a glimpse of her dress as it disappeared from view.
Cassian stood alone amid the silence of the ballroom, his breath uneven and heart pounding, left with the taste of her on his lips.
And it enraged him more than anything else had done in recent years.