The Promise

by V J Dunraven

  Richard twirled her around the room and she squealed in delight. They glided effortlessly across the floor, laughing and looking into each other’s eyes. Richard’s gaze alighted on her décolletage.

  Since when did the little twit expose her breasts with a scandalous neckline on her dress? Jeremy wanted to pick up a chair and throw it at them. They were so engrossed with each other that neither of them noticed him standing by the doorway.

  Cassie shifted and arched her back, lifting her creamy melons for full inspection. She let them brush repeatedly against her partner’s chest, boldly pressing even closer. Richard visibly swallowed and his steps faltered.

  Jeremy cursed under his breath. The brat had certainly lost her mind and turned into a trollop! He suddenly had the urge to drag her by the hair and give her bum a good spanking until it swelled to double its size. His eyes darted to the firm bum in question. Richard’s hand had most definitely progressed downwards to rest on the delicious mound.

  Jeremy gritted his teeth. Cassie did not seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to entice Richard’s hand to that exact spot by wiggling her buttocks like a damned duck waddling on ice! Jeremy changed his mind. Perhaps he could use a horsewhip instead and beat her posterior to triple its size!

  Their dancing slowed until they all but swayed gently in the middle of the room. The laughter had gone and now Cassie was staring at Richard as if he was the King of England. She raised her chin and leaned closer. Richard’s gaze dropped to her parted lips. Their mouths gradually drew nearer and nearer.

  Jeremy cleared his throat loud enough to summon the entire British Cavalry. They sprang away from each other, swinging their heads at the same time to where he stood.

  “Jeremy!” Cassie colored to a bright shade of crimson as he approached.

  “Sweetheart.” He pulled her to him and demonstrated his claim on her inviting lips. Richard could go to hell and Cassie—well—he would have to strangle her later.

  “You seemed to have forgotten your fichu.” He released her from his kiss and glared at the exposed tops of her breasts as he unbuttoned his waistcoat.

  Cassie’s cheeks reddened even further. Jeremy shrugged off his waistcoat and draped it over her shoulders.

  “What brings you here, old chap?” Richard asked.

  “I missed my betrothed’s company this morning and one of the servants had told me that she went to Grandstone Park.” Jeremy narrowed his eyes at his friend whom he now considered his rival. “Visiting. Alone.”

  “Oh, but I came by to ask you to accompany me,” Cassie interjected with a calming hand on his arm, her eyes wordlessly pleading with him not to make a scene. “But you were sound asleep and I did not want to wake you.”

  Ah—so that’s the real reason why she dropped by—to furnish herself with an excuse. Cassie gave him a small smile. Jeremy clenched his jaw and glowered at her. Hah! Obviously, she wanted him to be nice, but as ill luck would have it—he was in no mood to be agreeable. “I precisely remember Barton telling me, that you told him not to wake me because you did not need my company,” he ground the words through his teeth.

  “I-I—but you sleep like the dead and I know you hate getting up before noon!” she snapped, snatching her hand off his arm.

  “I had a nightmare last night and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Jeremy drawled in a satiric tone, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. “I dreamt someone sneaked into my bedchamber with a feather, looking for a snake.”

  Cassie paled, her mouth compressing into a thin line. Jeremy raised a taunting dark eyebrow, daring her to bring up the subject.

  Richard glanced back and forth at both of them. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I have some important correspondence waiting for me.” He bowed and took his leave.

  Cassie wrenched his waistcoat off her shoulders and threw it at his face, as soon as Richard’s footsteps faded in the hallway. “You pigheaded oaf! Did you come here to embarrass me?”

  “Embarrass you?” he exclaimed indignantly, catching his waistcoat with one hand. “You are well able to embarrass yourself without me, thank you very much!”

  “And how—pray, tell—do you think I can manage to do that?” She placed her fisted hands on her waist. “We were just dancing and you had to ruin the moment!”

  “Dancing? Hah! Do you think I’m blind? You were dangling your—your—” he pointed an accusing finger at her scrumptious-looking breasts straining from the confines of her low décolletage.

  “So? Wasn’t that what you taught me to do?” She swatted his forefinger. “Didn’t you say that if I wanted to seduce a man, I must be comfortable to show him some skin?”

  Jeremy grimaced. Well—she does have a point. “Er, yes, but—”

  “And didn’t you say that a man’s attention is enticed by womanly attributes more so than a pretty face?”

  Jeremy cursed under his breath and scowled at her. The little twit definitely got him by the balls. “Yes, but see here—”

  “You, Jeremy Huntington, are not being fair!” She stabbed a forefinger at his chest. “You took my bonbons in exchange for lessons and now you’re telling me I’m an embarrassment? I did precisely what you taught me, you dolt! And if you didn’t show up, it would have worked! Richard would have kissed me and I—I would have kissed him back!”

  Jeremy drew a deep breath in vexation. Excluding the events that had transpired last night, hands down—that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard her say. He wanted to shake her and hammer some sense into her—anything to emancipate her obsession with Richard. She had effectively made a fool of herself, and Richard—well, he never thought he would justify his actions, but Richard was a man. Given the right amount of temptation, he would most likely put the welfare of his cock before God and country.

  Something must be done. He simply could not let Cassie throw herself at Richard’s feet. One of these days, the man’s restraint would eventually break down and—

  “And then what?” he asked in an even tone.

  “What do you mean?” Cassie lifted her brows with a confounded expression on her face.

  Jeremy pinned her with a look of reproach. “After you kissed him back—then what?”

  “I don’t know!” She turned her back to him. “Maybe he’d realize he’s in love with me and not with that goat lady. Maybe he’d cry off the engagement and ask me to marry him instead.”

  Jeremy felt his temper rise up from hell and shoot to the high heavens. What she’d just said—sounded even more stupid than the first. What was wrong with the girl? After all his efforts, her pining for Richard had not been the least bit swayed.

  “Cassie—that’s the worst fucking rubbish I’ve ever heard!” He angrily shrugged on his waistcoat and strode across the room towards the door.

  What an idiot he had been! How could he even think he could take Richard’s place? How could he ignore the mountain of difference between them? Richard Christopher Radcliffe was the golden boy—the prized calf. Jeremiah Devlin Huntington was the black sheep—the unwanted son. He was a fool—nothing but a fool, to hope he had a chance to win the most beautiful princess in the kingdom.

  Jeremy shook his head in resignation. As he reached the doorway, he paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned around to say, “Good luck to you, Miss Carlyle. I hope you’ll live happily ever after.” He slipped out the door and slammed it shut at her stunned face.

  Chapter 27

  Revenge of the Rake

  and the Goat Lady

  Jeremy sat in his study with an almost empty bottle of brandy in his hand. He was foxed to the gills yet the heaviness in his chest remained. Cassie infuriated him so much that he could not think, could not function, could not even blink—without seeing her face. He hated wanting, needing, loving—anyone. No one wanted, needed and loved him—so why should he indulge in something
so far flung?

  He swallowed the last of his brandy straight from the bottle and threw the empty decanter across the room. It collided with a loud crash on the marble mantle of the fireplace, sending splinters of broken glass all over the expensive Aubusson carpet.

  Barton came charging into the room. “My lord! Are you all right?” His gaze darted to the glistening glass fragments scattered on the carpet.

  “Do I look like I am?” Jeremy grabbed his quill, dipped it in the inkpot and began to write.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, my lord?” Barton asked with concern and Jeremy immediately felt a twinge of guilt on his behavior. Barton had been the one who had taken care of all his needs since his mother died when he was but a boy.

  “I did not mean to bite your head off.” Jeremy raised both hands in apology. “But yes—I do need you to send this letter post-haste. I need it to arrive in London by tomorrow afternoon. I don’t care about the cost—just ensure its prompt receipt.”

  “Will do, my lord.” Barton took the letter and rang for a maid to clean up the mess he’d made.

  Jeremy sat back in his chair. He had a fortnight left in this farce of a betrothal with Cassie. God help him if this demented scheme of his did not produce the results he expected. Inch by little inch, the idea of rusticating in Europe began to look more and more appealing.

  At her father’s library in Rose Hill, Cassandra sat staring at the chess pieces in front of her. A few paces away, her brother Allayne reclined on a couch with a book, while her mother toiled on her embroidery by the fireplace. The stillness in the room aggravated her disposition. It had been three days since she quarreled with Jeremy and his absence was beginning to take its toll on her. She had gone to his house every day to make peace with him, but he refused to receive her calls. She had tried to bribe Barton with bonbons to let her in, but even that route did not work.

  Cassandra sighed. What else could she do? Jeremy had never been this vexed at her and she could not bear it. She missed his company and his laughter and his crooked smile and their daily rides and—

  “Cassie?” Richard, who had come to call on her and Allayne, peered at her from across the table. “It’s your move.”

  “What?” She blinked at him.

  “It’s your turn.” Richard gestured at the chessboard.

  Cassandra refocused her attention on the game they were playing. “Right—sorry about that.”

  “Is something the matter?” Richard cocked a tawny brow. “You’ve been very quiet.”

  “Oh, no—I’m fine.” She gave him a bland smile. “I was just woolgathering.”

  “Really?” Richard gave her the impression that he did not believe an ounce of her excuse. “You seem out of sorts.”

  Cassandra squirmed in her seat. Richard always had a way of interrogating people and finding out what they were hiding. She avoided his piercing blue gaze and moved her pawn without thinking.

  “Does this concern your misunderstanding with Jeremy at Grandstone Park?” Richard asked in a casual tone as he studied the board.

  “I—ah—” A stream of heat climbed up her cheeks.

  Richard heaved a deep sigh and regarded her intently. “I should go see Jeremy and apologize. He had a right to be upset. We should not be alone together. It is highly improper. I must insist you visit Grandstone Park only if you are accompanied by a proper chaperone.” He picked up his queen and moved it sideways on the board.

  “Richard—”

  “Cassie—” he reached for her hand on the table and patted it, just the way he used to do when she was a little girl. “Please understand. Jeremy is my friend. Like Allayne, he is almost like a brother to me. I must respect his wishes.” He watched her with a fond expression for a little while, then, he squeezed her hand before he stood up, turning to say his farewell to her mother and Allayne.

  Cassandra watched him leave. She had always admired him for his sensibility and wit. He constantly knew the right thing to do, and was disciplined and determined to a fault. When she was young, she looked up to him for his guidance and clear-headedness. She felt safe with him as one would, with a guardian.

  Her guardian angel. She smiled at the thought of what she always believed him to be when she was young. Unlike Jeremy, who relished breaking the rules and always laughed in the face of adversity. Who did everything his way, in his own time, no matter the consequences. Who was spirited and daring and passionate and beautiful and—

  “He’s got you on check-mate.” Allayne pointed at the chessboard and tapped a finger on her nose, chuckling as he passed her on his way to return his book.

  Three days later

  Waterford Park

  Cornwall

  Jeremy watched from the window of his study as the shiny black carriage with the ducal crest of Glenford pulled in the driveway, followed by two other coaches. He had been correct in his assumption that the lady would waste no time in traveling to Cornwall upon receipt of his letter.

  Her arrival was of royal proportions—a mountain of luggage, three maids, and an army of footmen and outriders.

  Jeremy rolled his eyes heavenward. Nine days was all he needed to survive Her Highness’ exalted company. After that period, they could all go to Hades and he would not give a fig.

  “Lady Desiree Lennox, my lord,” Barton announced from the doorway.

  Jeremy turned to see the stunning blonde, blue-eyed goddess to whom Richard was betrothed. “Lady Desiree,” he smiled cordially, indicating the chair opposite his carved mahogany desk. “Please come in and have a seat.”

  She floated into the room with her nose in the air and took her place. “I hope I have not wasted my time in coming directly to this godforsaken part of the country,” she said loftily.

  Jeremy’s congeniality vanished. “You are welcome to leave if you intend to subject me to your disdainful attitude.” He pointed at the door.

  “Lord Waterford!” Lady Desiree abruptly stood up from her chair in outrage. “How dare you speak—”

  “Let me make myself clear,” Jeremy cut in. “I shall not hesitate to throw you out on your ear if you ever use that tone of voice with me again. Understood?”

  Lady Desiree gaped at him.

  “Understood?” Jeremy reiterated sharply.

  Her haughtiness wilted and she reddened, nodding her head with an audible gulp.

  “Sit down.” Jeremy flicked his chin at her chair.

  She sat down obediently and placed her hands on her lap.

  Jeremy took his seat and leaned back, crossing his arms on his chest. “As I mentioned in my letter, I have reason to believe that Richard is having a change of heart on your betrothal.”

  Lady Desiree paled. “He can’t cry off—I’ll be ruined!”

  “Actually—” Jeremy said with a twist of his lips, “he can do whatever he wants.”

  “But why?” Lady Desiree’s cornflower blue eyes widened in distress. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  Jeremy sighed and straightened in his chair. “I believe he has taken an interest in someone else,” he said in a grave voice.

  “Who? Who could have distracted him away from me?” Lady Desiree wailed. “Is she fairer than I? Does she have better connections? Or perhaps—a larger fortune?”

  Jeremy rested his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “She is far better than all you’ve mentioned.”

  “Who is she?” Lady Desiree asked in a small voice.

  “Miss Carlyle, my betrothed.” He watched her jaw drop in shock. “Which is why I summoned you here.”

  “W-what can I possibly do?” She placed a shaking hand on her ample chest.

  “I have a plan—but first, tell me the truth—do you love Richard?” He pinned his dark gaze on her.

  Lady Desiree low
ered her eyes. “I-I was furious at Papa when I learned he’d arranged for me to marry a man I’d never even met.” She swallowed, toying with her glove on her lap. “B-but then, Papa invited him to dinner and I admit—I was taken by his looks and fine manners.” The corners of her mouth lifted a little, as if remembering the day. “He was so wonderful and attentive, and he looked at me a certain way. I-I thought he liked me. Then, I found out he left for Europe. I was devastated.”

  “So, you do have feelings for him,” Jeremy said in a softer tone.

  “Lord Waterford—” She raised her eyes and met his across the table. “I have a number of highly eligible suitors who have asked for my hand, but I never married—until Richard returned and asked to marry me.”

  “I see.” Jeremy leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly.

  “My Lord—I may not reveal my feelings due to the dictates of propriety ingrained in me from my upbringing.” Her beautiful countenance took on a look of conviction. “But I love Richard—more than anything—which is why I am here.”

  “Well, then. I believe it’s time to ditch propriety and win back your betrothed and mine,” Jeremy said with a satisfied smile. “Change is in order. Now—here’s my plan. First, let’s start by amending your attitude.”

  Lady Desiree inched forward and listened with interest to his plot, nodding enthusiastically in approval afterwards—that indeed—it was a brilliant scheme.

  Chapter 28

  Revenge of the Rake and

  The Goat Lady (Part Two)

  Richard looked up from his correspondence as Gordon, his butler, tapped the door to his father’s study before entering.

  “My lord, Lady Lennox is here to see you,” he announced, just as Desiree breezed into the room.

  “Desiree!” Richard hastily rose from his chair. “What brings you here?”

  “Darling,” she said in that melodious voice, rushing to his side with a warm embrace and a loving kiss on his lips. “It’s good to see you.”