Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
CASSANDRA
“I envied your friendship with my brother. That was why I’d come after him in the woods that day.
I, too, wanted an adventure. And I wanted to see this great friend of his, our neighbour, whom he always spoke of so highly.
I’m glad I did, for after he left for the Navy, I was not allowed to leave the house, never taken to the village.
In fact, tonight was the first time in all these years that I left Redthorne. ”
Rowen let out a breath. “Your brother knew your uncles were of questionable character, and before he left, he asked me to check on you from time to time. I promised him I would, but I neglected my promise. I do not think taking your maidenhead in the woods was what he intended.”
She lifted a shoulder in a dismissive manner. “You have been abroad for years, and I was not your legal responsibility. Tristan left me to my uncles.”
“As of your brother’s recent death, you became my legal responsibility.”
“What?” Her pulse stilled.
“When I arrived in London from the continent last week, Tristan’s lawyer contacted me. He informed me of your brother’s death at sea, and that Tristan had willed me to be your legal guardian in the event of his demise.”
“You?” Her face heated. “Is that why you stopped them from touching me?”
When she had heard his voice pierce through the room, she had felt it in her blood. Foolish girl.
“Tristan trusted me with you, and I have already broken that trust. You are now my ward.” His features looked pained at the utterance of that word. “Your brother left a fortune behind. All of it is in your name.”
“A fortune?”
“And your uncles had no legal right to offer your hand in marriage. I warrant upon hearing of his death, they set this marriage proposal in motion with my father.”
Behind them, the Duke’s breathing became shallow and screechy, the desperate noises filling the room.
“When did you return to England?” she asked.
“Last week. I’ve been on a diplomatic assignment in Naples for several years. I arrived in the country only yesterday.”
“You returned for your father’s birthday?” A smirk twisted her mouth. “Your father’s parties are quite acclaimed.”
“You know this how?”
“My uncles’ favourite whores who attend them at the house have often spoken about the parties here at Tidesfar. One told me she’d hoped to be hired for this evening’s soirée, but was not. She was most disappointed.”
“Bloody hell, you were raised in a house of pollution.”
“Is your house so dissimilar, my lord?”
His bright blue eyes gleamed at her. “It is not.”
“Am I to marry His Grace then?” she asked.
“I do not know if my father has signed any formal marriage agreement. I must look for the papers. But I do know this—those men here tonight, they are some of the greatest names of the ton. Although they have taken an oath of secrecy regarding their gatherings here, they now know who you are. If you do not marry His Grace, you may be forever stained by this, at least in their eyes, and they may make life impossible for you.”
“Ah, you mean to say that no one will make me an offer of marriage? A catastrophe, indeed. My life is already impossible, sir.” She let out a heavy breath. “With the news of my brother’s death, I ceased caring altogether.”
“You must care.” He went to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. Swallowing the glassful in one, he wiped at the liquor on his lips. “I have wrought your ruin by taking you. You have no choice but to marry the Duke.”
“A woman rarely has a choice in anything.” Her gaze fell on his father sprawled on his bed under a heap of coverlets. His face ravaged, the Duke eyed the couple nonetheless, which must have taken a great deal of energy, as he struggled to breathe.
Rowen handed her a glass of wine, and she took it. “He is listening to us.” She sipped the sweet wine.
“I’m sure he is, awake or no.”
Cassandra finished the wine, and a trail of fire burned down her throat and warmed her flesh.
She could leave here tonight, couldn’t she?
Run away. But where would she go? How, with no money of her own?
Leaving would only put her in further danger.
And what did she know of the world? Plenty, but certainly not enough.
Her gaze met the young lord’s. A smouldering, glimmering blue. She could feel the very heat of it in her veins, making her insides throb in that new way.
You are going to marry his father, she reminded herself. She turned away from him.
He drained the contents of another glassful of wine. “You need rest.”
“As do you.”
“I must stay here and tend to my father.”
“I will stay with you.”
His head tilted. “I don’t know if that’s a wise idea.”
“Allow me to be of service to my guardian.” She bowed to him.
He let out a scoff. “You are his fiancée after all. There’s a sofa over there…”
Cassandra went to the small sofa past the foot of the bed and laid down. He settled in a large armchair by his father’s side.
“Tell me something, my lord?” she asked.
“Mmm?” He glanced over at her, his head falling back on the chair.
“Who was that young man, Francis?”
“My father’s bastard.”
House of pollution, indeed.
His eyes shut, and he sank into sleep. He was exhausted. She owed him a great deal. At the party, he could have simply observed as perhaps he usually did on these occasions.
But he hadn’t. He’d chosen to stop it.
He’d crossed his father in front of their guests, guests who were expecting the diversion promised them.
Stopped his bastard brother from enjoying the indulgence promised him.
Stopped the Duke from humiliating her uncles.
But most importantly, he’d stopped her abuse.
And thus the son and heir had incurred his father’s ire, sending the Duke into a literal paroxysm of rage.
She drew the thin blanket that was on the arm of the chaise over herself and lay very still, listening to the Duke’s laboured breathing.
She would marry him and be free of her uncles. Would this house be another prison or her shelter? If the old man lived, she would learn how to endure him. If he did not live, she would learn what was available to her.
Cassandra knew better than to hope that what tomorrow would bring might be an improvement on today.
Tomorrow would inform her what she must become.