by V J Dunraven
As for the Viscount, he did not seem to mind his unusual friendship with his daughter and Cassie, in turn, never gave the impression of caring one jot about his reputation as a rake. She had always enjoyed his company and flaunted their friendship, no matter how much her poor mother worried about the gossip and protested at the impropriety.
Well, the gossipmongers could all go to the devil! He was very fond of Cassie—his little brat. And if a young man fancied himself in love with her enough to woo her, he’d have to pass through his rigid scrutiny first. He would never let any dandified dimwit near her—not because of his concern over Cassie, but simply because he knew a lesser man would never be up to snuff. His deceptively innocent-looking little brat could mince a lily-livered weakling in his own fat and eat him for breakfast—most probably while the poor lad was still alive.
Jeremy studied her face. She looked so sad, peering blankly out the window at the sunny countryside. Her hands were folded on her lap and he doubted if she could even see the beautiful panorama rushing by outside. A ray of sunlight shone through the glass and caught the pool of tears that had gathered in her lids, making them glitter like miniscule stars lining her eyes.
Jeremy drew a sharp breath. Good God! She had been trying to hold them back, trying to be brave and not break down in front of him the whole time! He suddenly wanted to murder Richard and throttle Allayne.
“Cassie.” He leaned over and reached for her hand.
She bit her lip, but did not make a move to look at him.
“Come on brat, look at me,” he said in a teasing tone, endeavoring to lighten her mood.
A minute passed before she turned to him with large, doleful green eyes.
“He looked right through me,” she said in a small voice, her lips quivering.
Jeremy squeezed her hand and swallowed the sudden explosion of anger in his chest. What the devil was he supposed to say to that? Convince her that Richard probably did not see her—when he witnessed everything that had happened with his very own eyes? “Cassie—” he began, hating himself for having to appease her with a lie. “I’m sure he didn’t notice—”
”He just looked right through me, Jeremy,” she interrupted before he could finish, her voice scratchy and barely audible, as if she meant to repeat the words to herself.
Jeremy swore and pulled her onto his lap. Her faltering composure broke. The tears she had been trying so hard to contain fell in torrents, cascading in rivulets down her smooth white cheeks.
He offered his handkerchief and drew her head to rest on his shoulder, wrapping her in a comforting embrace and letting her pour out all the bitterness in her heart. She wept nonstop while he soothed her with kind words, the rest of the ride home.
Jeremy clenched his teeth as he held her trembling figure in his arms. He may not know what to say to make things right, but he knew exactly what to do. There’s no way in hell he would ever let anyone hurt her like this again.
Chapter 5
Cassie and Allayne
Cassandra stayed in her room for the rest of the day, refusing to go downstairs to dine with her family. She was angry at all of them—her Papa included. Why did they keep the truth from her? Why did they let her show up at Grandstone Park, brimming with hope and dreams, only to have her expectations slaughtered by the grim reality that Richard—her first and only love—belonged to another?
The humiliation of being blindsided by her own family was beyond anything she could ever imagine. She felt like a laughingstock—for believing that Richard would keep his promise, for having faith in an oath he declared over a joke of a marriage with a brass ring from a broken lamp when she was eight, for clinging to every word he said and waiting all these years for nothing.
What a naïve, gullible twit she had been!
“Cassie? Can I come in?” Allayne’s voice emanated from the other side of her door.
“Go away!” she shouted, her voice harsh with anger. How could Allayne come here and show his face after all that had happened? He should have been the one who should have broken the news to her in the first place. Instead, he let her wander straight into the lion’s den, not knowing what to expect.
The doorknob turned and Allayne walked into her bedchamber carrying a tray of supper, a glass and a decanter of brandy. He set it down on the table by the window and sat on the edge of her bed.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Cassie pulled the sheets higher up her chin. She should have known that Allayne could never be deterred. He had always been the most indomitable, annoying person on the face of the earth—especially when he was intent on accomplishing a particular assignment.
“Cass—I’m sorry. Truly, I am. That was badly done of me.” Allayne touched her arm, looking genuinely forlorn. “Do you think you can forgive me?”
Cassandra sighed and averted her gaze. Allayne would never leave unless he said what he had come to say—and gotten what he had come to gain. She could never manipulate him like Richard and Jeremy, nor shoo him away if he’d decided to stay. Besides, what could holding a grudge with him and the entire family accomplish anyway? What was done was done. She could not turn back the clock and erase what had taken place.
“How long have you known?” she asked in a voice hoarse from crying for hours. The note of accusation was apparent in her tone and she made sure he had noticed.
Allayne swallowed and stood up, massaging the back of his neck. “Before we left for Europe,” he replied quietly.
A short silence ensued before she regained the nerve to speak again.
“T-that long?” she gasped. “And you never took the time to mention it in your letters?”
“I never thought anything would ever come out of it.” Allayne strolled towards the table and poured himself a drink as he continued to speak. “It was prearranged. Grandstone and the Duke of Glenford were old friends. At the time of their agreement, both were recently widowed. Glenford had one child, a daughter, and Grandstone had Richard, the last scion of the Radcliffe clan. Grandstone needed an heir to keep the ducal fortune within the family and Glenford wanted to make sure Lady Desiree would marry a man who was in a position to provide her with the life she was accustomed to—who would not squander her money. He had bestowed Lady Desiree with an exceptionally large dowry and an inheritance consisting of all the unentailed monies and properties he owned in the event of his death. The alliance would be one of the most prosperous in the kingdom.” He turned to look at her, his glass hoisted halfway to his lips. “It was a brilliant match, Cassie.”
“And Richard agreed to this?” she sat up straighter on the bed. “This cold blooded, loveless—”
“No, of course not! Not right away, anyway.” Allayne shrugged and took a sip of his brandy. “But with the two old Dukes’ machinations, Richard was obliged to dine with the Lennox family and meet Lady Desiree.” Allayne stared into the crystal goblet in his hand and swirled the liquor in it. “He—ah—he liked her, Cass. The first time he saw her, he was quite taken by her.”
Cassandra inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut, the pain of knowing that Richard—her Richard—had fallen for Lady Desiree, ripping a hole in her heart.
“But he wasn’t prepared to get married.” Allayne added, the bed dipping with his weight as he sat next to her on the mattress. “He may have been smitten with Lady Desiree, but he was too young at the time. He valued his freedom and wanted to see the world outside of England. He wasn’t ready to be tied down. That was the reason why I never told you. Why do you think he stayed in Europe for so long?”
Cassandra opened her eyes and searched her brother’s face. “But he came back because of her—he’s ready to marry her now.” she bit her lip and looked away. What a moon-eyed ninny she had been to assume that he’d come back because he remembered and missed her, and all the things they used to do together! Wouldn’t he
have come back sooner if that had been the case? But no—she did not think—she only believed.
“Well, no, not exactly.” Allayne placed the crystal goblet on her bedside table and took her hand in his.
“What do you mean?” She swung her head towards him, unable to dampen the glimmer of hope that swiftly invaded her heart.
“His father is dying, Cass. It was his most fervent wish for Richard to settle down and produce an heir, so he could go peacefully to his grave knowing that the Radcliffe family line will live on. He doesn’t have much time and Richard loves him dearly. He did not want to disappoint his father. As soon as our ship docked in London, we set out to Lennox House in Mayfair and Richard asked for Lady Desiree’s hand in marriage.”
“He must have secretly loved her for him to do that so easily.” she choked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her once again. After all, what man wouldn’t desire the goddess she saw today? Lady Desiree was perfect, a Venus de Milo to Richard’s Adonis. One would be blind not to see how fine they looked together.
“I don’t know—” Allayne shook his head and pursed his lips. “I don’t think so. He has only known her a few days.”
“But the way he looked at her—”
“She’s very beautiful, Cassie. Any man would be enamored with her. Whether they will suit together and fall in love—I have no answers for you. All I know is—” Allayne squeezed her hand and his expression turned somber. “You must forget Richard,” his voice was kind but markedly firm. “He’s not the one, Cass. Let him go. Open yourself to new possibilities and find another.”
Cassandra dropped her gaze to her lap. Deep inside, she knew Allayne was right. She had been holding on to an impossible dream; a ridiculous notion of a childhood promise that had no merit.
The moment had come for her to accept reality. Richard was never The One. He was certainly fond of her—like a little sister, but he had never loved her the way a prince loved his princess or the way a knight cherished her damsel in distress.
Richard, the man of her dreams, would always stay that way—just a dream—unattainable, untouchable, a figment of her imagination.
And if she had some sense left in her, she would heed her brother’s advice and forget him, bury him in the past, close that chapter in her life and move on, start anew without—
Richard, Richard, Richard, as always, his name swirled like a stubborn ache in her head even as she mentally admonished herself.
He is not yours, you pathetic fool! She smothered his image from her mind, then, she covered her face with her hands and cried in her brother’s arms.
Chapter 6
Letting Go
Cassandra watched the waves roll in the ocean, towering and churning in the distance before tapering down into feathery frothed fans of cool gritty water, as they reached the gleaming sand on the shore. Just like me, she whispered, hugging her knees to her chest as she reflected on the many hours she had spent coming to terms with wave after wave of anger, disillusionment and regret.
After the river of tears she’d shed and the heartbreak she’d suffered, a certain peace had come over her. The mysterious kind of calm that dwelled in one’s heart—when all hope was gone and one must accept defeat.
She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and realized that she had been sitting on the beach for hours. For the first time in her life, she failed to notice the magic of the sunrise, the scent of the sea and the beauty of nature she had always loved.
Apollo stomped his hooves on the sand and shook his mane impatiently.
“Yes, I know, it’s time for us to go home.” Cassandra stood up and brushed away the sand from her breeches, then, mounted the restless stallion, riding him all the way back to the stables of Rose Hill Manor.
Benny, her father’s stable hand, took the reins from her as she dismounted. She had no cheerful greeting for him this morning, breaking their little ritual of four years. He said nothing to her, but she caught the concern in his eyes as he walked Apollo to his box. “Ye’ll ‘ave to do a better job o’ cheerin’ ‘er up.” She heard him murmur sternly in the horse’s ear.
Apollo snickered and bobbed his massive head, before getting distracted by a tempting bucket of apples placed just out of his reach.
Cassandra deliberately took the rear door to the servants’ stairs to reach her bedchamber. She had to avoid her mother, who undoubtedly would throw another fit if she saw her disheveled state. Cassandra had no desire to participate in any arguments at present.
As she tiptoed along the second floor hallway, she overheard several voices from below. Curious about their morning visitors, Cassandra inched toward the banister along the upstairs balcony that has a partial view of the drawing room on the first floor and peeked down.
Her heart went to her throat. From where she was, she could see Richard standing in the middle of the drawing room with her parents and Allayne.
“Where’s Cassie?” Richard asked. “I didn’t see her at the luncheon yesterday.”
“She went riding,” her Papa replied.
“Ah, yes,” Richard chuckled. “I remember how she loved riding along the beach. We used to go every morning to watch the sunrise.”
Cassandra’s hand flew to her chest. He remembered—and he had come to see her! A sudden burst of joy obscured the misery she endured throughout the night and with alacrity, all her suffering vanished. Richard was here—and that was all that mattered.
She ran towards the winding stairs to go to him. Elation filled her to the seams. She wanted to shout to the high heavens and thank God for answering her prayers.
“Do you suppose she will be back soon?” She heard Richard ask as she hurriedly descended the steps.
“Er—we can’t tell for certain,” her Mama answered. “In the meantime, come—let us have some tea.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Richard replied. “I do hope she’ll be back soon. I really wanted her to meet Desiree.”
Cassandra grabbed the balustrade and skidded to a halt halfway on the carved mahogany staircase. Her gaze fastened to the blond-haired woman whose back was now visible from where she stood.
Lady Desiree exuded sophistication and elegance in her pale rose day dress, her skin as white as alabaster. A dainty hand rested upon Richard’s arm and Cassandra couldn’t help but notice, once again—just how well they looked together. Both were splendidly dressed and immaculately groomed, the ideal picture of a lady of quality and a gentleman of high birth.
She caught her own reflection in the mirrored panels that hung parallel to the wall abutting the stairs. A shabby girl with large green eyes, sunburned skin and mussed-up hair looked back at her. She appeared ridiculous in her muddy breeches and salt-water soiled white shirt. Compared to the exquisite beauty at Richard’s side, she looked like a scraggly beggar who hasn’t had a decent bath in ages.
“I am very eager to meet her,” the woman said in a cultured, melodic voice. “Richard told me so much about her.” She gazed up to him and they smiled in each other’s eyes.
Cassandra saw her whole world spin and shatter in little pieces. She covered her mouth with the back of a trembling hand and slowly stepped away from the railing. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she struggled to stifle the excruciating pain in her chest that felt like a thousand spears plowing into her heart.
From across the room facing her, her eyes met Allayne’s concerned gaze.
“Go,” he mouthed soundlessly.
She swiveled and ran back up the stairs in a stream of blinding tears, until she found herself in the safety of her bedchamber.
Cassandra woke up to the tapping on her door and saw that it was dark outside. Her head throbbed from crying and she wondered how long she had been asleep. “Come in.” She rose from her bed, shrugging into her dressing gown.
Bess, he
r maid, came in with a tray of supper on one hand and a package on the other.
“Your friend, Lord Waterford is downstairs having supper with the family as usual. He is asking for you.” She placed the tray on a table. “Also, Lord Radcliffe was here earlier. He left this for you.” Bess put the package on her bed and bobbed her head, avoiding her mistress’ eyes as she went to the door.
“Bess, wait.” Cassandra took a step towards her.
“Oh, Miss,” Bess said with a rueful expression. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry. We meant to tell you—I swear we did—but when the time came, we just couldn’t do it.”
“I see,” Cassandra sighed with an inward wince. So—they did know. Everyone, including the servants knew—except her! But then, she should have guessed. The servants of the neighboring houses knew each other very well and were usually the first to hear about gossip regarding the occupants of the households.
“It’s alright, Bess.” Cassandra glanced at the white package with the big red bow on her bed. “Thank you for bringing this up for me. Oh—and will you please tell Jeremy—I mean, Lord Waterford—to come for luncheon tomorrow? I’ll join him then.”
Bess did a quick curtsy and hurried out the door.
Cassandra picked up the box and sat on the chair by the fire. She unlaced the large velvet bow and lifted the lid up. An expensive-looking porcelain doll stared up at her with wide glass eyes, and a tin container of bonbons lay next to it in a bed of pink satin.
She picked up the note with the Radcliffe family crest embossed on the wax seal and broke it open. There, in Richard’s strong, flowing script, was the same message he’d always written year after year:
To Cassie, my little piglet.
R.R.
Year after year, she had held on to those words as if they were her very lifeline. She even envied the vellum he touched and wrote on. But now, as she read the same note once again, she saw it in an entirely different light.