"And you have seen Dr. Hastings, have you not?" Diana asked. "He is the finest physician London has to offer."
Cassandra nodded as she wiped at her eyes. "I have. He told me not to worry, but with Evan, I mean Berkshire, and my marriage and this stupid contract..." She knew her words were all tangled up, but she could not seem to put order to her thoughts.
"Yours was to be a marriage of business and convenience," Sophia nodded in understanding. "And now it is not. Now it is more, at least on your part. And you have no wish for your husband to go running back to his mistresses after a child or two is born. Is that it?"
Gripping the back of the blue on blue striped chair she had just occupied, Cassandra saw her knuckles whiten as she tightened her grip. "That is it exactly. But I fear that I am the only one involved who wishes to move beyond the business agreement into the 'more' part."
"Do you love him?" Jane asked, her eyes soft.
"I do." There was no way on Earth that Cassandra could deny her feelings any longer. Especially not with these women who seemed to be able to peer into her very soul so easily.
"Well from what I have witnessed, Lord Berkshire is most certainly in love with you," Abby replied. "Just the other night he practically challenged Lord Hunt to a duel when the man did naught more than take your hand in greeting."
Cassandra bit her lip. "He has been rather possessive as of late. Then again, there was that bad bit of business with my old neighbor, Mr. Taylor, the other week. That was rather unpleasant." She did not mention the mad, passionate coupling she and Evan had enjoyed afterward. There were some things best kept private, after all. Even from her friends.
"Men can be idiots," Diana sighed as she straightened in her chair and caressed her lower back, her body still not quite recovered from the birth of her son. "Lachlan, for all that I love him so very dearly, can fly off the handle if another man so much as glances in my direction at times. Who knows how they get these foolish ideas in their heads. I only know that they do and we are left to deal with their tempers."
"Though given your past with Mr. Taylor, perhaps Evan has reason to worry?" Abby picked up her cup of tea and cast an inquiring glance in Cassandra's direction.
She had come this far, Cassandra decided. Might as well admit the rest. "Mr. Taylor and I did share an affection once." She smoothed her hands down over her dress as she watched all of the women turn in her direction. "Or at least I did. I believe that he was never serious in his intentions and that I was merely a diversion to him. In time, he revealed himself to be the worst sort of cad. Now I believe he wishes to use me and what he believes is the unhappy state of my marriage to coerce me into his bed in hopes of wrangling money out of me."
"Well," Jane declared. "That certainly puts a different light on the situation."
"No, it doesn't," Abby insisted. "Cassie loves Evan and he loves her. That is all that matters."
"Not if Evan's jealousy is given free reign." That came from Diana who was stifling a yawn, proving to all without even trying that her husband had yet to tire of her attentions in the bedchamber. "Lachlan has a similar streak within him as well."
"So does Lewis," Sophia offered, "but he hides it well." She shrugged. "Then again, he is not a hot-blooded Scot as Lachlan is." Diana lifted a single shoulder as if in agreement, making Cassandra's head spin.
Closing her eyes for a moment, when she opened them again, Cassandra found her new friends staring back at her expectantly, waiting. "But those are your husbands. Not mine. Your husbands are all madly in love with you. At best, Evan feels insatiable lust towards me. That is hardly the same thing as love." Why she had admitted something so personal and embarrassing she had no idea. The words had simply tumbled out, likely a sign of her desperation.
"Yes, he is in lust with you, but he is also in love with you as well." There was a twinkle in Abby's eyes. "Remember, I have witnessed the two of you from the first of the Season. He was in love with you the day you arrived in London from Brambly Fields, I think. In fact, I would wager that he was in love with you even before that."
"The man has not kept a mistress since June of last year." Sophia grimaced when the others turned to look at her. "My husband was a Bow Street Runner. He knows things."
Thinking back over their time together, in her mind's eye, Cassandra began to remember all of the times she had shared with Evan over the past year. She remembered the previous fall when she had fallen ill with a fever and he had attended to her, bringing her tea trays she did not touch, calling her "Cassie" for the first time and begging her not to die.
She recalled the Christmastide season at Snowfield and how he had tempted her to come out of doors with him to play in the frigidly cold, fluffy white snow that was freshly fallen around the estate. Afterward, they had shared chocolate by the fire and toasted cheese while the rest of the household slept on, just the two of them enjoying the silent peace of the winter's night. On Christmas morning, he had gifted her with an exquisite pair of emerald earbobs that he said he thought matched her eyes.
After Twelfth Night, they had moved on to Brambly Fields where Evan had gifted her with Marigold and consented to allow her to ride astride when they were alone. She remembered their morning rides together, the way they had laughed together when Thor had seen a rabbit and stopped short in abject horror, nearly pitching Evan forward and off his mount. That morning could have ended in disaster and yet they had found laughter within the moment instead. When they had returned to the stables and confessed to Willis what had transpired, the man had been aghast that they had found the situation humorous at all, but his outrage had only made she and Evan laugh harder.
She remembered their long, lingering dinners together when Aunt Louisa wasn't feeling well and had requested a tray in her room. The first time Louisa had been absent from the evening meal, Cassandra had found herself far at the other end of the enormous dining table at Brambly, so far away from Evan that even if he bellowed at her, she likely would have been unable to hear him. She recalled how he had shaken his head in disgust and said that he did not give a bloody damn how his uncle had always done things and that if it was just the two of them, they would sit next to each other, grumbling to himself as he moved his own place setting and snarling at the footman as he did so.
In her mind's eye, she could see their arguments with crystal clarity, how her heart had always sped up when she came nose to nose with him, refusing to concede a point, no matter how trivial. How his eyes always widened and his pupils dilated when she challenged him. How, one time, she had seen his enormous erection pressing against the placket of his trousers when they had finished fighting, blushing when she felt an answering dampness between her own legs.
She had done that to him. She. Cassandra. She had aroused him. Not some other woman and certainly not one of his many mistresses. And if he did not care for her in some fashion, it was unlikely she could elicit that sort of reaction out of him.
"Perhaps," Cassandra allowed carefully, "he does care for me. A bit. In his own way."
"He loves you," Diana corrected gently. "He might not be able to admit to those tender feelings just yet, but he does love you. We have all seen that love with our own eyes, even if you haven't."
"Men are extremely slow when it comes admitting such things," Jane put in, "but they all come around to their senses eventually."
Cassandra looked at her new friends with worried eyes. "How long? How long does it take a man to know he loves a woman?"
"Depends," Sophia sighed. "Each man is more stubborn and the next and has his own timeframe, I fear."
"But he will come around," Abby offered gently. "Just give him time."
How long, Cassandra wondered. How long would she have to wait until Evan admitted he cared about her? For after today, she had come to the conclusion that while whatever he felt for her was not love, he did care in some way. So how long? Until a child was born? Until he was ready to walk away from her forever and return to his mistress' bed? How long
? If he ever did.
Those same questions were still plaguing Cassandra when she returned home later that day. She had hoped that she might be able to retreat to her chambers without anyone seeing her but as she turned a corner, she all but ran directly into Aunt Louisa and Franklin. The two of them were laughing and Louisa's cheeks were stained a light pink as if she was blushing.
"Lady Berkshire!" The solicitor looked a bit embarrassed to be caught. "I was unaware that you were due home so soon. I was just having a spot of tea with Lady Louisa and I...er...ah..."
"At ease, Franklin," she laughed. "I will not tell my husband you were about if you don't wish me to."
"It's none of his business anyway!" The older woman thumped her cane on the floor. "And why should I not have a gentleman caller if I wish. I am old. Not dead."
Franklin patted Louisa's hand. "We agreed to keep this quiet, Louisa. If Lord Berkshire finds out..."
"I have no doubt that he will be happy for the both of you," Cassandra chuckled.
Aunt Louisa sniffed disdainfully. "Honestly, I do not believe your husband cares a whit what I do. At present, all he cares about is you, my dear."
"He does not care about me." Despite the discussion she had just had at the dressmaker's shop, the words came quickly to Cassandra's lips.
To her shock, Franklin reached out and placed a hand on her arm in comfort. "Yes, Cassandra, he does. Your husband is a bit slow at times, and more than a little thick, but he'll come around. I've observed him for a year now and there is nothing that arouses his passion the way you do."
But passion is not the same as love, Cassandra wished to scream, but she did not.
Instead she sighed. "I would very much like to believe that, Franklin, but you drew up the contracts yourself. This agreement is simply business between us. Nothing more."
The business of ensuring the Berkshire line and nothing more, she wanted to add, but kept that thought to herself as well.
"Continue to tell yourself that, Cassandra," Louisa sniffed again, "and that is all your marriage will be." She eyed the younger woman shrewdly. "I have watched the two of you for the better part of a year and I stand beside what I said the night of your engagement. There are not two people on this Earth more suited to each other than you and my nephew. But one of you needs to be the stronger one and make the first move. If you don't? Then yes, this will be nothing more than business." She shook her head. "There is a fire between the two of you, the likes of which I've never seen before. It might not be the soft, gentle love you've been looking for, but it is love. Make no mistake." Then her eyes flashed with a memory that Cassandra could only guess at. "You have been given a gift, girl. You have a husband who loves you. Do not waste it."
Then Aunt Louisa took Franklin's arm and continued thumping off down the hall, muttering to the man about foolish young women and idiot nephews, leaving Cassandra to wonder if she really was the one not seeing things clearly, and wondering again if Evan really did love her after all.
Chapter Sixteen
"Evan, where in the world are we going?" Cassandra laughed as she tugged lightly at the blindfold over her eyes, though with each attempt she made to remove the offending fabric, he pushed it more firmly back into place. "I can't see a thing."
"Patience, pet. Patience." Carefully guiding his wife down the hall towards the orangery, he wondered again if she would like this surprise he had planned for her. He hoped she did. As of late, it was ridiculously important to him that he please her for some strange reason.
Originally, he had planned a trip for them to Hyde Park and along the Serpentine. While they rode there every morning, a few times she had expressed interest in viewing the old Grecian folly that had been built and then abandoned when that particular portion of the man-made lake had fallen into disuse due to its steep and sometimes dangerous banks. Evan had been to the folly many times over the years with his various lovers so he knew the deepest, most secret of hiding places in and around the old structure - places perfect for an afternoon assignation with his wife.
However, the weather had turned miserable again and once more, buckets of rain fell from the skies making it all but impossible to venture out of doors for such an expedition. Therefore, Evan had been forced to make do with what was available within the walls of Berkshire House, though unfortunately, the town home did not possess any Grecian follies to the best of his knowledge. It did possess a small and rather ornate orangery, though, and for the moment, Evan felt that would serve his purposes nicely.
It had been a little over a fortnight since their horrible argument over Matthew Taylor's appearance in their home - a day that Evan did not wish to revisit again if he could help it. And while the annoying Mr. Taylor was still lurking about London - something Evan knew thanks to the assistance of his friend and Bow Street Runner Harry Greer - the odious man had not turned up on Evan's doorstep again. Taylor had, however, managed to finagle invitations to certain entertainments and balls, but so far, the man had not approached either Evan or Cassandra at any of them, and if Evan had his way, he never would.
Evan had also come to the conclusion that Cassandra was not likely to tell him about the babe she had lost any time soon. If anything, she seemed to have reconciled herself to the reality of the event and had moved on, though Evan did have to wonder if at least some part of her good cheer was an act. There were moments when she thought she was alone that he caught her sniffling as if she had been crying and after her last trip to Madame LaVallier's dress shop, his wife had acted very peculiar indeed. On the other hand, she had been insatiable in bed that night as well, so he couldn't complain overmuch.
The fact that she still continued to hide the truth from him bothered him a bit, true, but on the other hand, Evan was the one who had made this a business arrangement, preferring a simple, uncomplicated life with his new wife. Perhaps if he let Cassandra know that he cared, even a little, and that there was more between them than simply trust and friendship, she might finally reveal the truth.
Or not.
There was still so much about his wife that he did not understand, things he could not decipher whether she realized as much or not. For instance, he firmly believed that she knew he cared for her. Or did she? Sometimes when she looked at him, there was a guarded look in her eyes, as if she was afraid of revealing too much of herself to him, almost as if she was afraid of him discovering that she cared for him. Which was, of course, utterly ridiculous because she knew he cared and he knew she cared. Or something like that. How could she not?
Then again, just last week another of his friends, Lord Hunt, had made a comment that caring for a woman and loving her was never quite so easy as a man assumed and that it was best not to underestimate what women knew and what they did not. Given that the man was infatuated with Lady Aurelia Tillsbury and had been for a year now - which all and sundry also knew as well - Evan hadn't quite been able to understand what Hunt was going on about.
Was it possible Cassandra did not know or understand how deeply Evan cared for her? He rather doubted it but then he remembered Lord Hunt's words once more and decided that where the fairer sex was concerned, anything was possible. It was part of the reason why Evan preferred mistresses. Relations with them were so much simpler, a mere exchange of coin really. Then everyone knew exactly where they stood.
"Evan! Are we almost there yet?" Cassandra asked, pulling him out of his musings. "We have been walking for ages!"
"Hush, queen. It has not yet even been two minutes." He laughed, something he often did in Cassandra's presence as of late. "Have you always been this impatient?"
She tossed her head the way she had so often in the time before they had reached their uneasy truce last summer. "Only when there is something I desire and you are holding out on me."
"How have I been holding out on you, pet?" he asked, shoving thoughts of the Gray Ladies contract to the back of his mind again. He had yet to turn them over to her. A failing on his part, certainly. "Tell me so
that I might rectify the situation immediately."
She harrumphed loudly. "It has been at least an hour since you last kissed me."
Here now was the Cassandra he knew and loved so well.
Wait. What? No. No, no, no, no, no! This was not love. It was fucking and lust and infatuation with a tinge of caring. But nothing more than that. It absolutely, most certainly, was not love.
But what if it is, a tiny and persistent voice in his mind whispered. Would that be so bad? Really? What would be so bloody terrible about loving her? She is your wife, after all. Do you really need those whores you've bedded in the past? I think not. Fool you are if you don't see that by now.
Evan shook his head to clear his thoughts, thankful that Cassandra could not see him. He likely looked like an idiot.
"Then we must remedy that shortly, I think," Evan replied, trying not to picture himself growing old and gray with Cassandra by his side, which was strangely a rather alluring picture. Instead, he tried imagining himself lying naked next to some nubile young opera dancer and, to his chagrin, found that he could not. At least not as easily as he once had. The only woman in his mind was Cassandra. "Terribly bad of me as your husband to ignore you."
She laughed then, a deep and throaty sound that made his groin tighten and his head become all muzzy. This was not good. Not at all.
"Evan, what am I going to do with you?"
Love me, one part of his brain demanded while the other screamed, bear my heirs and then leave me in peace.
This was the dual nature of the constant battle raging within him and not one he was likely to conquer anytime soon, he feared.
"Yes, well I'm certain you'll think of something," he said crisply, trying once more to curb his wayward thoughts. "Careful now. We're almost here."
"I am not certain where 'here' is, dragon, but I trust you," she said almost breathlessly as he opened the door and led her inside the orangery, a blast of heat hitting them both squarely as they entered.
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