Chapter Six
The next morning, Sebastian settled in his favourite chair at White’s, drinking his coffee, and plotting his next move.
His visit to Almack’s had been a blend of triumph and frustration.
Cassie was still refusing to admit that she was the woman who had cared for him so tenderly a year ago.
But after dancing with her, he was even more sure that it had been her.
For a vicar’s daughter, she was a surprisingly good liar.
Perhaps that was why they suited each other.
Like called to like. As an experienced prevaricator, he could appreciate the iron control she had over face and body.
She had not frowned or flinched. She did not blink too fast or too slowly.
If he hadn’t been holding her in his arms, he might never have noticed the slight pause in her breathing before she delivered a falsehood.
It was the barest hesitation and would have been lost in the noise of the room if his hand had not been resting on her ribs.
He had known she was both talented and lovely.
But he had never expected her to be devious.
It excited him almost as much as the kiss had done.
And then, there was the air of assurance she had when sparring with him on the dance floor.
She might think her cool responses would put him off, but he found them more attractive than the lures of a determined flirt.
There was something about the way she pretended not to care that made him want her all the more.
At least, he hoped she was pretending. He was not sure what he would do if he discovered that she truly did not love him. Likely something as foolish and self-destructive as he had done before he’d met her.
But he had no intention of giving up hope until he had managed to sort truth from fiction in regards to the events of a year ago. He’d assumed the enigma of Cassie the nurse would be solved once he’d found her. Cassandra Fisk was a puzzle in her own right, and one he would delight in unraveling.
In the year he’d searched for her, he’d sometimes worried that he might be disappointed by the woman he found.
What would he do if she was not as he remembered?
But their meetings recently had laid those fears to rest. She had a sharp wit and was not afraid to use it.
On the surface, she seemed cool and sensible, but he was sure there was a rebel underneath.
He was her opposite: the world might think him reckless but he longed for stability.
Each of them would find what they needed in the other: challenge, stimulation and ultimately, completion of the most satisfying sort.
He was lost in a fantasy of their shared future when her brother took the chair beside him and signalled the waiter for a drink. Then he turned to glare in his direction. ‘Good morning, Westbridge.’ He sounded like a man spoiling for a fight.
He had come to the wrong place. Sebastian was full of love for his fellow man, especially one who might soon be an in-law. ‘Hullo, Julian,’ he replied with an oblivious smile.
‘Did you enjoy your visit to Almack’s?’ the other man said, his frown deepening.
Sebastian took a sip of his coffee. ‘More so than usual. The place is not a favourite. But last night, the company was more interesting than usual.’
‘You danced with my sister.’ The innocent statement sounded like an accusation.
‘That is what one normally does at Almack’s. It is an assembly room. They hold balls. You dance at them.’
‘The girls there are not to waltz until given permission,’ Septon said, still grim.
‘Because of a silly rule created by the she-dragons that run the place,’ Sebastian replied. ‘The patronesses have too much power and wield it unfairly. You have said so, often enough. And your sister is well past the legal age to decide for herself what dances she can do.’
‘She said something similar when I questioned her about it last night,’ Julian said, his anger changing to frustration.
‘Well, good on her,’ Sebastian replied, unable to hide his approval. ‘We danced at your ball, as well, and you didn’t feel a need to track me down and question me about it.’
His friend responded with a silence that hinted it was exactly what he had wished to do and had resisted the urge. Probably because it would make him look as foolish as he did now.
‘I danced with her because it was the thing to do,’ Sebastian finished, keeping his tone bland. He made a nebulous gesture with his free hand. ‘Assembly rooms. Balls. As I said before. She was the guest of honour, for pity’s sake. One is expected to pay one’s respects.’
‘As long as that was all it was,’ Julian answered, still suspicious.
‘We were never out of your sight.’ Not this week, at least. ‘Are you really so protective?’ Sebastian allowed himself a small, incredulous laugh to cover the sin of omission.
‘If I think it is warranted,’ Julian said. ‘You know as well as I do what scoundrels men can be.’ Though he spoke in generalities, the look he gave Sebastian was very specific.
‘She is in no danger from me,’ he said. It was true, in a sense. His intentions were honourable, though he doubted Julian would see them as such.
‘That is good to know.’ Julian gave him one last warning look before settling back in his chair and taking a sip of tea.
Sebastian sipped his own drink as well, his mind racing.
If this conversation was any indication, there was no point in asking permission to pay court to her.
Refusal was guaranteed. But that did not mean he could not gain something from it.
‘Out of curiosity, who are you hoping to match her with?’ He stared out into the room as he spoke, to prove that the answer mattered little to him.
Julian’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Someone better than she was aspiring to, I should think. A decent fortune. Some land. A minor title.’
Sebastian laughed again. ‘Were you planning to attach a man to the list? Or is the estate sufficient?’
At this Julian looked exasperated. ‘It is up to her to choose the man. I exist only to vet his circumstances.’ He gave a half shrug. ‘I suppose the people who raised her would like to have some say in it, just as a courtesy.’
‘The Fisks,’ he said, hoping he did not look as sour as his friend.
‘The vicar and I are coming at the problem from different directions,’ Julian said.
‘You view this as a problem?’ Sebastian said, irritated on Cassie’s behalf.
‘She is twenty-six and unmarried,’ Julian said. ‘It is well past time for a decision to be made.’
‘By Cass…’ He stopped himself. ‘By Miss Fisk.’
Julian ignored his slip and continued. ‘Mr Fisk is less interested in finances and more in character. I suspect he would settle for a clerk or a grocer, as long as the man was honest.’
‘And you don’t mind a little tarnish on the family name?’ Sebastian said.
‘On the contrary. Only the most honourable man will do. But I do not think a life of denial is necessary to purify the spirit.’
‘You would rather see her marry rich?’
‘Yes.’
‘Someone with a title, as you said before.’
Julian nodded. ‘If such a man could be interested. Her situation is not ideal.’
Sebastian scoffed. ‘She is a lovely girl. The right man will be willing to overlook a past she had no part in making.’
‘But the right man is definitely not a rake,’ Julian added, giving Sebastian another speculative look.
‘Well, good luck to you all,’ Sebastian said, hoping that his sarcasm was not too obvious.
Julian smiled back as if he’d not noticed it at all. ‘Thank you for your well wishes. It is just the beginning of the Season. Far too early to make any decisions. But I suspect it will not be too long before she has an offer. She is really the sweetest girl.’
‘So she seems,’ he said. He had thought so when she had come to him last year. But now that she chose to deny him, he was not so sure. There was a tartness in her, like the undernotes in fine wine that intrigued the palate.
‘And in just this week, there are two promising candidates,’ Julian added, not noticing his friend’s silence.
Competition.
‘Respectable?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Very. Mr Andrew Rutland. The son of the Earl of Grisham.’
‘Second son,’ Sebastian reminded him, calling up what he knew of the fellow.
‘A son, all the same,’ Julian replied. ‘An heir would be nice. But there are those who would look down on her because of her birth, even though I’ve made it quite clear that she is acknowledged by the family. Still, the connection to the title should be worth something.’
‘You are very stuffy, now that you have decided to take your reputation seriously,’ Sebastian said. ‘I never thought I would hear you talking about matchmaking and social connections.’
‘Life was easier when I did not have a wife and sister to look out for,’ he said with a shrug. ‘A year ago, I did not expect to care as much as I do.’
‘Rutland is a bit of a prig,’ Sebastian could not help remarking.
‘A prig who danced with Cassandra twice, last night, after you left Almack’s,’ Julian said.
Damn.
‘Twice?’ he said, giving his friend a suspicious look. ‘That was flirting with propriety as much as my waltz was.’
‘Your infraction likely gave him the nerve to request a second dance from Lady Jersey. It was you who put her in a forgiving mood.’
Damn, again.
‘And it is better him than the alternative,’ Julian responded.
‘Who would that be?’
‘Someone like…us.’
The pause was significant. He had been about to say you, only to soften the remark at the last minute to include himself.
‘You have reformed your character,’ Sebastian reminded him.
‘Because of Portia.’
‘You were still a rogue when you married her,’ Sebastian reminded him.
‘I did so for the worst reasons,’ he said with a thoughtful smile. ‘I thought marriage would be a quick salve to my reputation and had no intention of remaining faithful.’
‘But that was not the way it turned out,’ Sebastian reminded him.