Chapter Seven #2
It made Cassie think of the card file that Westbridge had described, and the acceptable conversations that young ladies were allowed to have. Was that really all men wanted from the women they married?
She toyed with the pin on her lapel, wondering if Andrew would notice it.
If he did, would he find it odd? Somehow, she doubted that he would have given such a thing to her.
His courtship thus far had been lukewarm and very traditional.
She suspected the ring she might be offered would be expensive but tasteful and made from diamonds as cold as ice.
After they’d dispensed with the bread and butter and were waiting for a plate of tea cakes, Andrew suggested a game of lawn bowling and went off with Julian for a while, leaving her alone with Portia.
Once the men were gone, her sister-in-law gave her an encouraging look. ‘Well?’
‘What?’ she responded, pretending not to understand.
‘Do you like him?’
She took a sip of her tea, which had gone cold, and refilled the cup from the pot.
‘You are avoiding the question,’ Portia said, disappointed.
‘Yes, I am,’ Cassie said. ‘Because I do not know how to answer. I like him.’ She took another sip and added a lump of sugar. ‘But that is all.’
‘You do not know him very well,’ Portia said, pushing her cup towards the pot.
Cassie refilled it, as well. ‘Three dances. And during them, I learned far more about him than he learned about me. Yet, he seems to like me very well.’
‘It would be a good match,’ Portia said thoughtfully.
‘For him as well, I think,’ Cassie said. ‘He wishes to know Septon and to be part of his family.’
Portia sighed. ‘I had hoped that there might be more.’
Cassie did not like being a disappointment, so she said, ‘There still might be. It is too early to tell.’
Portia seemed encouraged by this and whispered. ‘Perhaps, after this evening, you will like him better. You have not seen the surprise, as yet.’
‘What might that be?’
‘When he returns from bowling, he will offer to show you the gardens,’ Portia said her eyes lighting with mischief.
‘And you want me to go with him, unchaperoned?’ Cassie responded. This was a surprise.
‘There is a hedge maze,’ she replied. ‘It is very pretty at dusk.’
‘Very dark, I suspect,’ said Cassie, sipping her tea.
‘There are torches. And it is not so large that you will be lost for long,’ Portia said, as if she spoke from experience.
‘Are you suggesting that I allow Mr Rutland to take liberties?’
‘Not if you do not wish him to,’ Portia replied. ‘But a single kiss will do no harm, if you wish for one.’
Cassie was not sure that was true. The kiss she’d gotten from Westbridge had caused no end of trouble, so far. But she had enjoyed it. Perhaps, when the moment came, she might feel differently about Mr Rutland.
Andrew, she reminded herself.
‘You can say no, if you wish,’ Portia said, sensing her lack of enthusiasm.
‘I can,’ Cassie said. ‘I think I will wait until the moment arrives to make my decision.’ But from the relief she felt at the thought of refusing, things did not look promising for Andrew.
A short while later, the gentlemen arrived, bringing the cakes with them. And after a slice of sponge with raspberry jam, Andrew offered to show her the gardens.
When Cassie looked to Portia for support, she replied, ‘We will follow in a little bit. I think I would like another piece of cake.’
It was probably just as well. She would need to make a decision about Andrew Rutland sooner or later. Tonight was as good a time as any. So when he rose, she took his hand and let him lead her out of the box and down a crushed stone path towards the maze.
‘It is a lovely night,’ Andrew said.
Cassie was tempted to tell him that they had covered this conversational ground before. Instead, she forced herself to do what was expected of her and replied, ‘Yes. Lovely.’
‘The gardens are lovely as well,’ he added. ‘Not so lovely as the ones on my father’s estate. Those are much larger. But not open to the public, of course.’
‘Of course not,’ she said. Did he covet those grounds, she wondered? He was not the heir to them. They would not come to him, unless both his father and older brother died. Nor had he done anything to create or care for them.
It was strange to brag about a thing that one was adjacent to but had no part in. Unless one had no real accomplishments of one’s own, other than a family name and prospects of success if one married well.
‘We have more roses. But we do not have a hedge maze,’ he said, unaware of her doubts. He gestured to the topiary arch that was before them. ‘Would you like to venture in?’
When she hesitated, he said, ‘You need not be afraid. I am here to protect you.’
This was nothing more than a clever arrangement of shrubs. Only a complete ninny would be frightened by it. Perhaps that was what he thought she was. But it was not really the planting she was worried about. She wanted to see that. Just not with him.
‘I have never seen a maze before,’ she admitted, glancing around her at the other couples wandering around the gardens. The worst that might happen was a stolen kiss. She would survive it and be back with Julian and Portia in a few minutes.
‘Come along, then,’ he said, pulling her gently forward through the entrance. ‘You will find it very pleasant.’
He was not exactly wrong. She did like the maze.
It was very green, and very dark. She inhaled the rich, live smell of the walls that surrounded them and immediately felt calmer.
There was something so peaceful about being out in nature, feeling the chill in the air as the sun set, and bathing in the silver moonlight.
But she could not help thinking it would be better to be walking with someone else. Or to be alone, walking barefoot in the grass. That was a rather wicked thought. She could imagine herself in just a shift, or even less, focused on the night sounds and the touch of the breeze.
‘See?’ he said. ‘It is nice, here.’ Her hand was tucked in the crook of his arm, and he held it close to his body. He was probably trying to keep her warm, but the grip was uncomfortably tight.
They walked forward a short distance and turned left, then right, then left again.
There was another straight length that she suspected ran along an outside wall, then another turn with a bench at the corner where a couple sat, kissing.
Beside her, Mr Rutland chuckled, but led her past without further comment.
‘Are we nearing the centre?’ she asked. By her estimation, they must be. But she was quite turned around and not sure she could find her way out again.
He shook his head and led her down a blind alley and past another amorous couple, then back again to turn in the opposite direction. ‘I know a spot where we will be able to see the moon. It is full tonight.’
She gave him a sidelong look. He walked and spoke as if he knew exactly where they were going. But if that was true, why had they taken the false turning a moment ago? The only reason she could come up with was that he wanted her to be disoriented and dependent on his guidance.
It was probably supposed to be romantic.
But she did not like the feeling of being at a disadvantage.
Nor did she like being lied to. Now she was pretty sure that they were going back the way they had come, but she might be confused.
This was the dead end they’d been down before, and there was no reason to go this way.
But by the time she thought to question him, they were alone and facing a wall of hornbeam.
‘There,’ he said as if they had reached a destination. ‘The moon is just above us.’
She looked up. He was correct. She could have seen the same thing from the table, while having tea. But then, they would not have been alone, and he could not have placed his fingers on the tip of her chin so he could kiss her as she was looking up.
The kiss was short and quick. And it would have been much sweeter if she had been eagerly waiting for it. Instead, it was a thing expected but not longed for. That made her a little sad.
He seemed content with it, though. He was smiling down at her. ‘You are very beautiful in the moonlight.’
‘Thank you.’ Was she supposed to thank him? She swallowed nervously. When he did not reply, ‘We should be heading back. This is obviously not the way to the centre.’
‘How unfortunate for us,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close. ‘I fear we are quite lost.’
‘Not for long,’ she said, trying to step back. ‘We have but to retrace our steps and we will be right again in no time.’
‘Or we could simply remain here awhile,’ he said, pulling her close again. ‘It is not often that we get an opportunity to be alone like this.’
It would not happen again, that was for certain.
He probably thought he was being playful.
In response, she should be feeling a thrill of excitement and not a sense of dread.
Maybe because she had given him a gentle hint that she was not interested, and he had ignored it.
Perhaps she needed to be clearer. ‘I think we should find the others,’ she said in a firm tone, looking back down the path towards escape.
‘Not until you pay a forfeit,’ he said.
‘That is not the sort of game I came here to play, Mr Rutland. Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to go back to my family.’
‘Andrew, please,’ he said, ignoring the rest of her words.
She stepped out of his arms again. But as she tried to push past him, he grabbed her hand, spinning her around to face him. ‘We will leave in a minute, no more than that.’
‘Now,’ she repeated, trying to pull away. But his grip was surprisingly firm. On the dance floor, he had been very gentle and his manners had been perfect. But here, alone and in the dark, he was very different. Another kiss seemed inevitable.
She closed her eyes, not because of any romantic foolishness, but to pray that no one saw them.
If they were seen, she would be forced to accept a proposal, or disgrace.
As his mouth covered hers, she decided that she would rather choose public ruin than to let this go on much longer.
She could never marry a man who treated her this way when they were alone, no matter how polite he might be in public.
His lips were moving over hers, his tongue licking against her tightly pursed lips.
It made her want to shudder. She could remember the kiss she’d shared while tussling on the bed with Westbridge, and awkward and shocking as it had been, it was infinitely preferable to what was happening now.
Though she’d tried to tell herself afterwards that he had forced her, he had not held her as tightly as Andrew Rutland was.
He had not demanded she submit or ignored her refusal.
That kiss had been over too quickly. But this one seemed to go on and on.
She thought of the couples they had passed, too busy in their own lovemaking to answer a cry for help. How long would it take for Julian to miss her? And what would happen in the meantime?