Chapter 30 #2
“A great lady like Rosamund probably knows my brother-in-law, and I cannot take that chance.” Frederica moved to the edge of her chair, leaning closer to Cassandra.
“I beg you, Your Grace, promise me you won’t tell her the truth.
I realise that what I ask of you is dear, but I only want to live my life quietly with the child as best I can.
Thanks to the Duke’s generosity, I am able to do so. ”
“Thanks to my husband’s generosity, you were able to lift yourself from the mire of your husband’s debts when his own family turned their backs on you.”
“I hardly think of my wretched husband anymore, but unfortunately, the cruelty of his brother and his wife remains unforgettable to me.”
“Despicable, all of them.” Cassandra let out a breath. “I don’t think we’ve ever told you how the hatred between Lord Enggers and the Duke began.”
“I never dared ask His Grace.”
“Mmm. I first met Lord and Lady Enggers when he had become the Foreign Under Secretary and was visiting the Kingdom of Naples when His Grace was serving there. One night, Lord Enggers attempted to seduce me.”
“Of course, he did.”
“In the end, I spurned him, much to his astonishment.”
“My brother-in-law does not like to be bested, especially by a woman.”
“He was very angry. Said vile things. And in order to make Lord Enggers’s humiliation truly memorable, my husband bested him.”
“How did His Grace accomplish that?”
“He seduced Lord Enggers’s wife.”
A look of horror flashed over her face for a moment, then she lapsed into laughter, her hands flying to her mouth.
Lady Enggers was the lord’s second wife and over twenty years younger than her husband. Naturally, he considered her his veritable trophy.
“Enggers found them and stopped it just as His Grace had planned,” said Cassandra. “However, I’m afraid Lady Enggers paid a steep price for her shocking lapse in virtue.”
A smile bloomed on Frederica’s face, and she bit her lip. “Oh my. Poor thing.”
Cassandra let out a laugh. How familiar. Women bound by a man’s offences. She leaned back in the cushioned chair. “Thankfully, you are now free of them and answer to no one.”
“For the first time in my life.” Frederica pressed her palms on the table. “I am most thankful every day. When a woman has lived at the mercy of a man’s miserable charity, independence is no small miracle.”
“Quite right,” agreed Cassandra. “Have you communicated with Lord Enggers at all? Does he know you are here?”
“I have not communicated with him for quite some time. No one here knows we are related.”
“If he saw you now with a child…”
Frederica’s lips pressed into a firm line.
“May I see the child?” Cassandra could not restrain the impulse any longer.
“Of course.” Frederica led her to the baby’s nursery. Her heart drummed in her chest, as if she were approaching something sacred. Or something unbearable.
A servant curtsied. “He’s just gotten to sleep, Ma’am.”
A boy.
The tiny child was wrapped in a blanket, eyes closed, his pursed lips a miniature heart.
So impossibly small.
Cassandra’s lungs crushed together. For one terrible instant, she was flung back to
her lost child, wrapped in a blanket, cradled in her arms. So very still.
The baby stirred. A small restless shift. A soft breath.
He breathes. He moves.
He lives.
Cassandra smiled. “He’s beautiful, Frederica. Absolutely beautiful.” Her voice sounded calm. How did she manage it?
“He is a very lively child. I must admit, I’m finding it all rather overwhelming.”
Cassandra searched his features for signs of Rowen, but the truth she sought could not be revealed so.
She turned away from his cradle. “Frederica, you were never an audacious woman. Am I to believe that you allowed yourself to be ravished by a feral stranger whom you met the moment you stepped foot in the Channel Islands, which are currently rife with every blackguard and rogue from all corners of the Earth?”
“It is the truth, Your Grace. And I have not confessed it to another soul. Only you.”
Her gaze fixed on the baby, Cassandra remained still. Yet inside her, everything surged and collided—memory, longing, indulgences, consequences—so many currents moving at once.
Too many.
With perfect composure, Cassandra left the nursery, bade Frederica good-bye, and departed.
The moment Frederica’s door closed behind her, the air vanished from her lungs.
Her feet followed the narrow path outside the cottage, up the small hill.
Her vision was a blur of wildflowers and shrubs and the gunmetal grey sea beyond.
She pressed her fingers against her ribs as if to hold herself together.
The cold wind struck her face, and she stopped and forced herself to breathe it in.
Again. And again. Slowly, the world came back into focus with the call of seagulls, the scrape of cart wheels, and the distant pounding of the surf.
Her fingers trembled as she wiped at the cold dampness prickling her upper lip, and she resumed walking, slowly, carefully.
By the time she reached Rosamund’s cottage, the surge inside her had receded.
But not the undertow.