The Promise

by V J Dunraven

  Jeremy reached for the bell pull by the corner of the bed to summon his valet, and paused. The leather-bound journal he had lent to Lady Desiree was on his bedside table. However, that wasn’t what made him ill to his stomach, but the sparkling gems atop the journal that caught the sliver of sunlight peeking through the draperies. His mother’s diamond and ruby ring. The same ring he had given to Cassie, the only girl he wanted to marry.

  Chapter 33

  Pumpkin and the Viscount

  Rose Hill Manor

  Seven Days Later

  Cassandra watched her Mama and Papa as they settled themselves on the chairs on either side of her bed. She had cried buckets and refused to talk to anyone, locking herself in her room, until her mother finally threatened to cut off the delivery of her food, beginning with her bonbons.

  “What is wrong with you?” her Mother scolded. “You’re not sick, yet you pretend to be ill and you’re not mute either—yet you won’t talk! You’ve sequestered yourself in this godforsaken room and I’ll tell you this right now, young lady—if you don’t make yourself go downstairs and have luncheon with your family, I’m going to have that beast of a horse of yours sold to the highest bidder!”

  “But Mama!” Cassandra threw a helpless glance at her Papa who shrugged and settled himself more comfortably in a nearby chair with a yawn.

  “Does all this sulking have something to do with that profligate friend of yours?” Her Mama stood up and placed her hands on her waist. “He’s been asking for you every hour—for the past six days—driving the entire household mad! Whatever quarrel have you two gotten yourselves into, now? I am sick of the both of you. Truly—my hair will turn gray and I’ll die a certain death, all wrinkled with botheration if this squabble of yours does not end!”

  Cassandra crossed her arms on her chest. “I never want to see him again, Mama.”

  “Then why can’t you get out of bed and tell him so, yourself? The man won’t go away nor listen to anyone—not even to your brother! He’s been brooding in the library and wouldn’t touch his food at dinnertime—except for the wine. As to why you can’t act like a well-bred young lady and speak to him so we could all have some peace around this house, is beyond my comprehension!”

  “I don’t want to speak to him—ever, Mama.” Cassandra averted her face and pursed her lips.

  The Viscountess threw her hands in the air and swiveled her gaze at her husband. “Did you hear that, George? Did you see how impertinent this daughter of yours has become?”

  Her Papa answered with a loud snore.

  “George Carlyle!” her Mother screamed at the top of her lungs.

  The Viscount winced with a startled snort.

  “For God’s sake, George—did you doze off on me?” The Viscountess peered at her husband from across the bed.

  “Eh?” Her Papa muffled a yawn with the back of his hand. “Of course not. I was just—”

  “This is all your fault!” Her Mama stabbed a forefinger in his direction.

  The Viscount glanced around the room and pointed at himself. “Me?”

  “Yes—you! You’ve condoned your daughter’s behavior and let her run amuck like a hooligan behind my back. You talk to her! I’m going to lie down. I need smelling salts.” Her Mother fanned herself furiously and left the room in a huff.

  Cassandra and her Father looked at each other.

  “Well—since your Mama has disowned you for the day,” the Viscount sighed and stood up from his chair, sitting next to her on the bed. “Why don’t you tell your Papa what this is this all about?”

  Cassandra traced the embroidered monogram on her pillowcase. “Oh, Papa, I hate him!”

  “Pumpkin,” her Papa said in a gentle voice, “you always say that every time you quarrel with him.”

  Cassandra shook her head. “But this is different. I never, ever, want to see him again.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Her Papa took her hand and regarded her with kind eyes. “It’s all right—you don’t have to tell your Papa anything if you don’t want to.”

  She burst into tears.

  Her Papa shifted closer and hugged her, rubbing her back soothingly. “You know, pumpkin, he has been coming here, bringing you all sorts of flowers. The drawing room is beginning to look and smell like a mausoleum. He has been genuinely miserable. Now, if you truly don’t ever want to see him again, why don’t you put the man out of his misery? Go downstairs and tell him when he comes back. I’m sure he’ll understand. Perhaps he will even move on and find another friend—or even get married. Countess Libbey’s daughter is quite lovely—perhaps your Mama can arrange an introduction.”

  Cassandra grimaced, blowing her nose on the handkerchief her Papa supplied. “She’s too delicate—Jeremy will never be interested in her.”

  “What about the Earl of Templeton’s daughter? Her name escapes me, but I heard she’s a beauty.”

  Cassandra rolled her eyes. “She also thinks she’s a princess—not at all suitable for Jeremy.”

  “Hmm. You may be right.” Her Papa rubbed his chin. “He does favor ladies who are spirited and capable. He has quite a brain in his head, so he would prefer someone who could match his wit and keep up with all those demented schemes of his. Ah—but what am I doing troubling myself?” The Viscount patted her hand and rose from the bed. “I do believe he has had his eye on a particular lady for quite some time now.”

  “He has?” Cassandra sat up, perturbed by what her Papa had said. “Who?”

  “Oh, a lady he constantly called on and danced with when he was in London,” her Papa waved his hand with nonchalance. “Titian hair, expressive eyes, very beautiful, quick-witted. I know her father very well—handsome old chap.” He smiled at her and strolled towards the door.

  “Who is she, Papa?” Cassandra tossed the blankets off her and crawled towards the edge of the bed.

  The Viscount paused and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t concern yourself.” He shook his head as he turned the doorknob. “You don’t ever want to see him again anyway.”

  Cassandra frowned in consternation—of course—why would she care? In fact, she did not even want to hear about it!

  “Now—get dressed and come down for luncheon,” her Father said before he slipped out the door. “Your Mother will drive me to an early grave if you don’t.”

  Chapter 34

  Choosing the One

  Luncheon, thankfully, had been a short affair. Her Mama forbade her to go back to her room so she decided to take Apollo for a gallop instead. A week had passed since she had ridden him and he was restless, brimming with pent-up energy.

  She rode through the woods, in the direction of the pond. God, how she relished the wind on her face and the blur of trees as they sped down the path. She felt better already—though she missed Jeremy terribly. The past seven days had been hell—she could not eat, could not function, could not sleep—without crying and thinking about him.

  Many times, she was tempted to run down the stairs and rush into his arms—especially when she could hear the echo of his voice, arguing with every servant in the house to let him into her bedchamber. Only Allayne and her father could pacify him with a drink—something that Allayne had told her in exasperation, when he demanded she get out of bed and fix their petty misunderstanding.

  Oh, if only they knew! Reading that journal almost killed her. How could Jeremy do that to her? How could she ever trust him again? She should have never let herself fall in love, should have never invested herself and her heart in someone like him—who could hurt her without a qualm when the next girl with the pretty face, big titties and round bum, came around.

  Cassandra drew Apollo’s reins and winced. In her distraction, she had forgotten to wear her riding gloves and her hands were sore from gripping the leather straps. She dismounted n
ext to the tree they used to climb as children and let Apollo graze on the grass.

  The old wooden ladder was still nailed to the massive trunk and she clambered up the steps, until she reached the thick wide branch hanging over the pond.

  “Well, hello there! Are you visiting my tree?” She heard a familiar voice call out to her.

  “Richard!” She held on to the nearby branches and treaded her way to where he sat. “What are you doing here?”

  “I took a dip in the pond.” he scooted a little to give her some space. “I missed coming here.”

  “Me too.” she sat next to him.

  “Remember these?” He pointed at the markings carved on the branch.

  She chuckled. “Yes.” she studied the rough heart shapes she had engraved on the wood containing the letters R and C.

  Richard cleared his throat. “Listen, Cass, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened in London—”

  “It’s all right—” Cassandra felt the rush of warmth in her cheeks and she lowered her head to hide her embarrassment.

  He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “No—I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I was a fool not to recognize you.”

  Cassandra shrugged. “I don’t blame you at all. It had been ten long years and I looked nothing like the eight year old you left behind. You couldn’t have recognized me even if you walked into Rose Hill manor and saw me there.”

  “I’m sorry for being too forward. I thought—”

  “You thought I was someone else,” she chuckled, then regarded at him for a moment before saying, “I wished I was someone else.”

  A small blush stained his cheeks. “I wished you were someone else too.” his lips tugged at the corners. “But as it turned out, you were my little piglet—my treasured friend who was more like the sister I never had.”

  “I wish I could say the same, but I was more determined to marry you then.” she laughed softly and traced the heart markings on the branch with her forefinger.

  “What’s this?” Richard reached out to touch the tarnished brass ring on her pinky finger. She had worn it for so long that she’d forgotten it was even there.

  “My wedding ring—with you,” she chuckled. “Call me silly but yes—I held on to it over the years.”

  “How can I call you silly—” he slipped his fingers inside his shirt and pulled out a gold chain with a tarnished brass ring strung through it. “When I kept mine too?”

  Cassandra gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. She cupped the ring dangling from the gold chain identical to hers on her palm. “You never forgot.” She raised bewildered eyes to meet his.

  “Never—except for one thing,” he smiled, “that my little piglet could grow up to be a princess.”

  Cassandra reflected for a moment. “It’s funny—but it was the same for me too. I always thought of you as a fifteen year old boy—I never dreamed you’d grow up and be a giant man.”

  “I suppose we were both stuck in the past,” he shrugged.

  They both laughed.

  “Cass—Desiree wanted me to ask you—if you would be her bridesmaid.”

  “Me?” Cassandra waited for her heart to break, but she felt nothing, except a longing for a certain someone with long dark hair and a crooked grin.

  “Yes.” Richard turned to look at her. “Desiree is an only child like me. She needs someone—a sister to stand next to her—and she picked you.”

  Cassandra nodded. “So, you’re finally getting yourself leg-shackled.” she searched his handsome face.

  “Yes,” he nodded, swinging his feet back and forth. “I think—I’m falling in love with her.”

  Cassandra’s smile disappeared. She felt a familiar loss—the same kind she experienced when all three of them left for Oxford.

  “Don’t look so sad.” Richard elbowed her playfully the way he always did—years ago, when they used to sit in this same branch and dangle their feet over the pond below. “We are not moving away—we’re staying at Grandstone Park.”

  “You are?” Cassandra’s spirits instantly lifted. She liked having Richard around. He was like her security blanket—the older indulgent brother aside from Allayne. She knew that now.

  “Yes—and I have Jeremy to thank for it. Desiree confessed that he helped her—she even showed me the journal he gave her. Jeremy wrote explicit instructions for her to follow and practice in front of a mirror.” Richard shook his head and chuckled.

  “I should have been furious, but Desiree did it because she loves me. A lady of her standing would never agree to do such a thing unless she loved someone so badly that she was desperate to win him. Do you know that she even forced herself to wake up early in the mornings to go riding with me?”

  “Truly?” Cassie tilted her head at him.

  “Yes—she even challenged me to a race along the beach. The other day, she insisted on coming with me to visit the tenants, taking the time to get to know their families and listening to their concerns. And then, she asked me to take her to the village where she spoke to the vicar about the needs of impoverished parishioners, before she went on to call on every gentlewoman she could find in the neighborhood, organizing them into committees to serve the community. I was amazed.” Richard shook his head.

  “I knew Desiree did everything to please me. Her resolve to show how much she loved me made me see her in a completely different light and brought us closer together. Later on, we had a good laugh about that outrageous journal. For once, Jeremy’s demented scheme proved useful and successful,” he said with visible amazement.

  Cassandra swallowed the lump in her throat. They laughed about the journal? Richard should have been insulted—enraged to find his privacy invaded and enumerated like a shopping list! But as usual—Richard always saw the wisdom in everything. He dealt with the circumstance in an objective manner, heard what Desiree had to say, took the time to understand everything from her perspective. Why couldn’t she handle things in a grown up way like him? She felt like a child—an idiot—for running off and refusing to talk to Jeremy. Perhaps that was the reason why she liked having Richard around—because he always steered her in the right direction, and guided her in making the best decisions.

  “Cassie—Desiree said that Jeremy helped her because of you. He thought he was losing you—to me.” Richard’s eyes alighted on her bare hand. “I don’t see your engagement ring on your finger.”

  “I-I—” Cassandra stared at her lap, a sudden spring of tears flooding her eyes. She wiped them frantically with the back of her hand.

  “You broke up with him.” Richard tilted his head to peer at her. “Is it because of the journal?”

  She nodded and sniffled.

  Richard took her hand and clasped it between his warm hands. “My Mother used to tell me this story of how she chose to marry my Father.” A pensive expression crossed his face. “She had many suitors, but she favored two—the Duke of Pennworth and my Father, who was a Marquess at that time. She said she was enamored with the Duke, who was a paragon and the handsomest man she’d ever seen, but at the same time, she was very fond of my Father, though he was a rake and a little immature.

  “Grandmamma noticed Mama’s predicament and summoned her. Over a cup of tea, Grandmamma told Mama the story of how she solved her dilemma over two ardent suitors who both occupied a place in her heart.” Richard paused and plucked a leaf from a nearby branch, letting it fall like a feather buffeted by the gentle breeze onto the pond below.

  “What did she say to your Mother?” Cassandra turned her gaze towards him.

  He smiled into her eyes. ”Choose the one who loves you the most.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Jeremy loves you. That man will do anything for you—to the point of dishonoring himself. I admit—I was skeptical at first and did not approve of your enga
gement. And it wasn’t because I didn’t trust him—I do, as a friend and associate—but I just didn’t trust him when it comes to you. I was cynical about his intentions—I knew too much about his behavior towards women and I was afraid he was going to hurt you. If that happened—friend or not—he would have to face my pistol in a duel. However, this latest madcap scheme of his has proven to me how much he loves you. I am confident the man is determined to make you happy for the rest of his life.” His piercing sapphire gaze turned earnest. “Don’t let him slip away, Cassie.”

  She covered her face with her hands and cried.

  Richard put an arm around her shoulders and sat quietly with her, the way he always did, when he comforted her as a child.

  After several moments when she had recovered, they made their way down the tree.

  “Go to him,” Richard said with a quick hug, before they parted ways.

  Chapter 35

  Losing Prince Charming

  Cassandra urged Apollo into a fast gallop towards Waterford Park. She felt buoyed, her burden eased, everything coming into focus. She wanted nothing else, but to see Jeremy—to kiss him, hold him, tell him how sorry she was and how much she loved him.

  Barton opened the door just as she dismounted Apollo. She rushed to the steps. “Is his lordship in?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss.” Barton swallowed, his normally unruffled demeanor cracking into a troubled look. “But his lordship left with his valet this morning for London to see his solicitors and board a ship for Europe.”

  “Europe?” Cassandra felt her breath whoosh out of her lungs. “Where in Europe?”

  “Er—I’m not at a liberty to tell, Miss,” Barton replied with evident concern. “He was very adamant to keep his whereabouts confidential.”