One True Love (A Regency Romance)

by Lisa Follett

  “I see.” Except that she did not see. What business could keep him both day and night?

  “I understand your Mr. Parker called on you the other day,” he said.

  Did she detect a sneer in his voice? Could he be jealous? No, she doubted that. “Why did you marry me?”

  “Because I wanted you.”

  “In your bed.”

  “In my life.”

  For a man who wanted her in his life, he certainly did not act like it. Nor did he take advantage of it. He took a bite of toast and snapped open the morning paper. So that was how it was going to be. Ignored. Again.

  She wanted to snatch the paper out of his hand. “Mr. Parker came to tell me that Lord Winnington passed away.”

  He glanced over the top of the pages. “Yes. I heard. I am sure he is thrilled to own the title and the fortune now.”

  “I am sure he is saddened by his uncle’s passing.”

  He grunted. She picked up her fork and stabbed a kipper. Why was he so angry? She did not know what to do. She sat her fork down and observed her husband. He held the London Times in one hand while drinking his cup of tea with the other. He was absorbed in the news of the day. In a rush of madness, she jumped up and grabbed the paper out of his hand.

  Startled, he looked up. “See here!”

  “Why are you ignoring me?”

  “I assumed you did not want to be bothered.”

  “Do I look like I do not want to be bothered? Do I look as if I am pleased to be ignored by my husband? I am lonely and miserable and I want to go home!” She clenched her fists and stamped her foot. She felt stupid. Like a spoiled child. Worse than a child.

  A long moment passed before William stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “God, I am sorry, Cassie. I am so sorry.” He kissed her ear. And her temples. And all of her face until he found her lips.

  She wanted him to hold her. She realized at that moment how much she missed his warmth, missed his arms around her, and his mouth on hers.

  A cleared throat broke the moment. The footman. Good grief! William nodded towards the footman in dismissal. He took her face in his hands. “Let us start over. Shall we?”

  “I would like that.”

  “Shall we go to the races?”

  She nodded. Maybe all would be well after all.

  ***

  William believed himself the worse kind of cad. He allowed his insane jealousy to rule his head. He neglected his bride. They may not have the love he hoped for, but they were married, and bound to each other for life. He must make an effort to have a successful marriage. One day, his wife might come to love him, or at least care for him. Besides, he missed her. He missed her smile and her laugh, her intelligence, and her wit. And there was no denying he wanted her in his bed.

  The last few days gave William a chance to think. Cassie told him she did not want him in her bed, but if he remembered correctly, the statement was conditional. She wanted him paying attention to her during the daytime. There was reasoning in her request; unfortunately, he could not bring himself to spend his days with her. He longed for days like the first where they talked, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company.

  Spending time with her made him vulnerable to his feelings, and it exposed his feelings to her. He could not do that because he could not sacrifice his heart. She already had a firm hold on his emotions, and since her heart could never be his, he would be left with nothing but pain.

  Avoiding Cassie forever was not an option either. He could not blame anyone but himself. He trapped himself when he offered for her. He did not take the time to consider her feelings for her former betrothed. He had rushed into the situation blind, and now he must pay the piper.

  The ride to the derby took longer than expected. They were stuck behind a trail of carriages going in the same direction. He attempted polite conversation about the weather, Stephen’s horse, the competing horses and the odds, and a few of the most outrageous on dits. They became reacquainted and seemed relaxed in each other’s company by the time they arrived.

  William escorted Cassie to the Prescott box where they found his family waiting. Stephen and James were tending to King, and his father was about assessing the competing horses. The ladies dressed in their finery made William wonder why Cassie dressed in her riding habit.

  He turned and saw her strained, pale face. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Whatever is the matter, dear?”

  “Apparently, I am not properly dressed for this event. Why did not you tell me?” she hissed in embarrassment.

  “I suppose I do not give much attention to lady’s fashions. I did not realize.” Another mark against him. He probably should have noticed her attire, but truly, he did not think of it. Who could possibly keep up with which garment a lady wore to which event?

  “William. Cassie.” Anne hugged them both and then whisked his wife away to the corner, where they fell deep into conversation. His curiosity almost got the better of him, but Mary took hold of his arm and led him in the opposite direction.

  “Walk with me William. I would like to take a look at the horses.” Mary took his arm and as usual, he allowed her to lead the way. He spied his spunky sister’s determined expression and smiled because she most certainly had something on her mind.

  They walked over to the stables where the grooms kept a suspicious eye on anyone coming near their charges. Mary ignored their stares as she stopped and admired each horse, then stroked their necks and noses and whispered sweet nothings. She had a way with horses that at times appeared magical.

  “What is on your mind Mary?”

  “What makes you think anything is on my mind, beyond which horse will win today?” Mary turned and flashed a brilliant, yet impish smile at him. “Place your bets on Prince.”

  “Of course, now out with it.” He took her by the elbow and pulled her away from the horses and waited for her response.

  Mary placed her hands on her hips. “Men. You all believe you can command us mere ladies who should bow down and serve you. I do not know why you are determined to believe something is on my mind.” She started toward the barn’s exit.

  “Fine then, do not talk. It does not matter to me. I am sure I do not want to hear whatever you have to say.” He walked past her as she grabbed his arm.

  “Cassie’s former betrothed visited your home this past week.” She let it out on an exasperated sigh.

  “And how would you know this little piece of information?”

  “I have my connections, but that is not the issue,” Mary huffed.

  “What is the issue then?” he asked.

  “Your wife’s former betrothed called on her while you were out. Does that not concern you?” Her hands were on her hips. Anger flashed in her eyes and color rose on her cheeks.

  “If I did not trust my wife, I suppose it would be an issue. As it happens, Miles Parker visited my wife to inform her that his uncle cocked up his toes. He is now Lord Winnington.” Just the fact that he knew of the visit and the reason should put this silly business to rest, except for the fact that he was dealing with Mary.

  “Whatever possessed the rogue to visit another man’s wife to tell her of his good fortune? Are you sure that is the only reason for his visit?”

  William clenched his teeth and hardened his jaw to keep from firing back a nasty retort. No one doubted that Parker, or, Lord Winnington was a besotted idiot. Yet, the last thing he needed to do was to ruin the bit of progress he made with Cassie by allowing his jealousy to rear its’ ugly head.

  “Mary, I will not have you spreading malicious gossip, even if it is only for my ears. Cassie is my wife. Winnington may be a thorn in her memory, but he is not her lover, nor will he become her lover, if that is what you are saying.”

  “No, no. I am not saying anything of the kind. I just do not care for the man sniffing around your wife. I only meant to warn you, dear brother.”

  “Then I am warned. Let us return to the box.”

  And t
hen he saw Cassie with Winnington.

  His insides turned cold as Mary clutched his arm to keep him from tearing the purple peacock in half.

  Cassie threw back her head and laughed. Usually, he loved her smile and her laughter, but now he wanted nothing more than to turn away. The leech at her side ate away at his flesh, and boiled his blood, until he tensed his muscles into solid rocks. He clenched his fists, his jaw, and his heart before moving towards his enemy.

  He would maintain his control, behave as a gentleman, keep his wits about him, and not bring embarrassment on his family. At least that is what he told himself as he strode toward the sniffing dog.

  “Winnington,” he ground out between his teeth.

  “Lord William.” The man’s face turned to stone, and his eyes darkened like those of a lecher. The bumbling blackguard had the audacity to paste a faked smile on his face.

  “I did not realize you enjoyed the races,” William returned in his own pasty smile.

  “My uncle had a disdain for the races. I did not want to do anything to give the old codger a reason to cut me off.” He dared step closer to Cassie, who stiffly watched the two men exchange icy retorts.

  “Are you saying that sending a young woman to her disgrace is less disdainful and risky than attending a horse race?”

  Cassie stifled a gasp and paled. Two marks against him this day. He should mind his tongue, but something about Winnington made him want to challenge the man to his death. Swords or pistols came to mind.

  “I did not break my engagement. In fact, I traveled immediately to London to have it out with my uncle, to force his hand in giving me his blessing, but by the time I returned, it was too late. You stole my betrothed right out from under me.”

  Cassie’s milky white skin looked as pale and translucent as a haunted angel. Her green eyes turned to dark muddy pools, and reflected hurt and shame. His worst nightmare cut through the fog and pulled him into something so stark, so real, he could not face the daylight.

  He watched and waited with bated breath, as he half expected his wife to throw her arms around another man. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched away. A breath he did not know he held blew out, and shuddered throughout his body. He turned towards Winnington and grasped the man by the cravat and squeezed the bloody air out of his lungs.

  “Stay away from my wife, Winnington.”

  Winnington sputtered and gasped for breath before he turned the same color as his purple coat. Since it would be beyond the pale to commit murder on a racetrack with half the ton as witnesses, he let the bastard drop to the ground. Winnington held his throat, and sneered with the venom of a viper, but William turned away from the nodcock and followed after his wife.

  ***

  Cassie sat in their carriage. Her hands trembled and tears streamed down her cheeks. She could not go back and face William’s family now. She needed a place to be alone and think about everything. Her thoughts tumbled through thunderous clouds. The look on William’s face frightened her. For a moment, she thought her husband and former betrothed might kill one another right in front of her eyes. Mr. Parker, no, Lord Winnington now, purposely egged William on. Why? And what did he mean when he said he went to London to confront his uncle? Had he truly planned to return to marry her?

  Her heart ached from the tugs in so many different directions. When she spoke to Lord Winnington he made her laugh. She almost forgot how much she enjoyed his company. And, it had been awhile since she laughed with such freedom.

  The last time she laughed was with William on the day after her wedding. Walking, talking, swinging. The memory wrapped around her shoulders like a warm hug. She wanted everyday to be like that day, and every night to be like the one engraved on her body and soul.

  But what about Lord Winnington? She tried to define the difference between her feelings for the two men. At first the lines blurred, but now she understood her first love was not her true love. Yet, was she in love William?

  She loved her nights William, but as of late, he spent precious little time at home. Hurt swelled in her heart when William left her alone. He reminded her of a leopard who constantly changed his spots. If only he would act consistently in her presence.

  As they traveled to the derby today, she thought perhaps they had a chance at happiness. He attempted to converse with her, and even though she did not sense the same level of comfort in their conversation as they once experienced, she believed they were on the right path.

  The door to the carriage opened, and a body, a presence, larger than life itself, entered and sat down next to her. He said nothing, but put his arms around her and pulled her into his warm embrace. A tear slipped down her cheek as she rested her head against his chest. Warm. So deliciously warm.

  They sat like that for several minutes before she felt his lips touch her head. She wanted to stay like this forever. Her heart shifted a little, as if she went from girlhood to womanhood in a single moment. Her old dreams of wedded bliss with Mr. Parker gathered on the wind and flittered away, only to be replaced by something more fulfilling.

  A serene sense of forever held her to him. The world drifted away, and left them alone, and, at that moment, she knew she loved him.

  In a moment of daring, she lifted her face to him, and touched her finger to his strong mouth. She offered him a silent invitation to kiss her, to love her, to give her his heart.

  William answered her invitation by giving his mouth to her. She opened her lips and accepted his tongue into the depths of her mouth. He tasted like warm honey, and a sweet sensation overtook her, flushed her skin, and gathered in her secret place that ached for him.

  She melted into his kiss, long and lingering. His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, and she met him and matched him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust. His kisses were the only ones she wanted. Mr. Parker’s tingling kisses left her like an insignificant childhood memory in the foggy distance of her past. She craved her husband’s kisses, his hands on her, his body merged with hers. She wanted his company, his conversation, his thoughts and opinions, and in this brief second in time, she was determined to have all of him.

  Cassie acknowledged she would fight for her husband. She did not know or understand what brought him to her, fate perhaps, but she would not let him abandon her to lonely days and unfulfilled nights. Her fingers tangled in his thick, soft hair, and she held him to her, set his mouth to hers, and gave him all the love in her heart.

  In the back of her mind she heard a tap on the carriage door, and a groan in William’s throat. She ignored it, but it came again, and this time louder.

  “Cassie. Cassie! Are you in there? Are you alright?” Anne’s voice echoed through her foggy brain.

  “Go away,” muttered William.

  She pulled away. “I am fine.”

  The door opened and Anne stammered, “Oh, oh, I am sorry. I thought you were alone. I will just leave now.”

  “No. It is alright. We were just talking,” she said as William chuckled. “Let us go and enjoy the races, William.”

  “Of course, my dear.” William stepped down, then helped Cassie out. He squeezed her hand, and gave her a warm, knowing smile.

  When they returned to the Prescott family box, she noted the odd stares from William’s family. Mary eyed her with disdain. Elizabeth and Jane’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. And William’s mother appeared deeply concerned. At least the men were attending to Stephen’s horse. William escaped almost as soon as they entered the box. Traitor.

  She pasted a smile on her face and tried to appear cheerful. She wondered if her face appeared tear stricken, or well kissed. Could the women guess her improper behavior in the carriage? At least the gentleman in question was her husband. They cannot fault her for a few moments of privacy with her own husband. Could they?

  Oh drat! They probably thought she was the worst kind of wife, a country bumpkin, totally unsophisticated to the ways of London life. She could not change her background, or turn herself into a lad
y of the ton. She was a vicar’s daughter, a simple country miss, an innocent in their world of privilege. Whatever the consequences, she accepted this life when she married William, and she would make the best of it.

  Cassie would try to win over William’s sisters one at a time. Mary stood at the window eyeing the track with what could only be envy. Mary’s mouth watered as if she stared at a plate of sweets. Not one for sitting in the background, waiting for life to happen to her, she decided to start with the one sister who seemed to dislike her the most.

  “When does the race begin?” she asked.

  “Soon.”

  “Anne tells me you are an expert horse woman. She says that you have a special way with horses.”

  Mary shrugged her shoulders, but never moved her eyes away from the activity outside.

  Anything in life worth gaining came with struggle, at least that is what her father always said. She turned toward the window and watched as grooms walked the horses along the track, brushed them down, and whispered words of encouragement in their ears. She caught sight of her husband with his brothers and father. They leaned against the fence and talked, laughed, and smoked smelly cigars.

  “Do you think Prince will win the race?”

  Mary turned towards her with a look of dismay on her face. “Of course.” She turned back towards the window.

  Cassie wondered if the conversation was an effort in futility. “Do you not wish you could ride on the back of Prince during the race? It must be an exhilarating experience.”

  “Society and their dratted rules. The only thing women are allowed to do is bat our eyes at eligible gentlemen and discuss the weather. We are nothing more than ornaments to hang on a man’s arm. We must ride side saddle in confining skirts, while we simper, whimper, and faint at the hint of scandal. It makes my stomach turn.” Mary harrumphed. She was like a little bird trapped in a cage and Cassie pitied her.

  “I always thought Society’s rules were meant to protect ladies from the sins of the world,” said Cassie.

  “Protect us? No. They are meant to keep us ignorant of men’s debauchery so that they may continue acting the fools they are.”