Around them the music swelled and Evan twirled her into a spin. Not one of those inelegant spins that her old dancing master had performed, but a graceful move, one borne of ultimate control of a man's ultimate control of his body. Soft lights twinkled high overhead and for Cassandra, there was no one in the world but Evan. He was her sun and her moon, the beginning and the end.
Such thoughts terrified her, for she had always been so careful not to lose her heart or her mind to anyone. Yet she had foolishly given all of herself, body and soul, to a complex man who had so many sides to his personality she could not even begin to catalog them all.
Evan was by turns humorous and furious, light and dark, full of joy one minute and then raging in anger the next. His moods were mercurial, but at his heart, there was a kindness, a gentleness, that lived deep within him. She saw that kind and tender heart when they were alone or when he defended a person he felt had been wronged. That was the part of Evan Haddington she had fallen in love with first, but now, she loved all of him, flaws and all.
And that, more than anything else, was the most frightening realization she had made in a very long time.
As he guided Cassandra over the dance floor, Evan wondered yet again how he had been so fortunate to snare this incredible creature for his wife. She should hate him, especially after all he had put her through early on in their relationship. Had she been wise, she never should have allowed him to lay a finger on her person, either. Nor should she have forgiven him for the things he had said and done. Yet she had done all of that and more. She, Cassandra Grove - now Cassandra Haddington - cared for him. He could see it in her eyes.
For her, this might have started as a marriage of necessity, designed to save both of them from unpleasant futures, but now? Now it was more. So very, very much more. Her lips might never say the words, but he could read the expression on her face and feel her emotions in the way she clung to him, pressing her body to his. This was more than sexual pleasure, more than the need for an heir. This emotion between them, whatever name one wished to give it, was more than all of those things combined.
He prayed that what they felt between them was love or that if it was not at the moment that would be soon. He did not think he could accept anything less. Not from Cassandra.
Around and around they swirled, her body leaning into his as they moved, his arms drawing her so close that surely there were whispers already about the two of them. He moved and she followed. She smiled and he returned the expression ten fold. His instincts had been correct. He did not need the whores that had once filled his bed. All he needed was his wife.
By the time the dance ended, Evan was ready to haul Cassandra into his arms, kiss her and then bolt for the front door so that he could take her home to bed. His heart was pounding and his cock was throbbing, and he didn't know which was causing him more discomfort at the moment. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone with his wife so that he could strip her naked and bury himself inside of her welcoming heat. He wanted his wife. There was no other way to put it.
"Are you ready to depart, love?" he asked her, gratified to see her eyes widen at his use of the endearment. It was the first time he had done so and the moment was not lost on her.
"Whenever you are, my darling." Her breath was quickening and he could see her breasts rising and falling beneath the thin fabric of her gown. His fingers itched to caress her silky soft flesh. But not here. Not now. And not when she had just called him "darling" and was looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars for her.
Evan squeezed her hand. "Let me give our regrets to our hostess this evening and then we can be off as soon as a footman fetches our wraps. Meet me at the entryway?"
Cassandra graced him with a dazzling smile. "I cannot wait." Then she inclined her head. "Go. So that we might be on our way home as soon as possible."
There was a dark, erotic gleam in Evan's eyes that was impossible to miss and once more, Cassandra felt her heart jump as she watched him weave through the crowd in search of their hostess. It was proper to say their good-byes. However, Cassandra wished they could have simply snuck off into the night like young lovers and let propriety go hang.
Across the room, she caught a glimpse of Abby and thought she might take a moment to go speak to her friend before departing for the evening. They had yet to speak about her proposed trip to the Cross Corner's Bookshop in search of the latest Gothic novel and Cassandra hoped to make the expedition within the next day or so, before the last copy of the new novel sold. She could send 'round a note the following morning, she supposed but dropping a word in her friend's ear now would only take a moment and even if Evan managed to find Lady Knightly, he still had to send for their wraps.
Cassandra had only managed to make it half was across the room when she was stopped by a footman bearing a silver salver.
"For you, my lady." The footman bowed low as he offered her the salver. On it sat a bit of torn parchment that looked as if it might have come from Lord Knightly's desk. "From your husband."
Frowning, Cassandra took the offered bit of paper and then turned away, not wishing to give the servants here something to gossip about. Most people already had something to say about the state of her marriage. She refused to provide them with any more fodder for additional gossip.
Meet me in the music room.
I need you. Now.
I find I cannot wait.
E
The note didn't look to be in Evan's handwriting, but then, it also appeared to be hastily scribbled and splotches of ink dotted the page, obscuring some of the letters. On occasion, Evan wrote with his left hand - particularly if he wished to be sneaky - and if she used her imagination, Cassandra thought that this missive could have been written with his left hand.
And the words... Oh, the words made the blood rush in her veins and the juncture between her legs throbbed intensely. She had been damp there all evening and now, Evan was offering to tumble her in the music room. Or perhaps this was to merely assuage their mutual need until they reached Berkshire House. Either way, she could not say that she minded.
She would have preferred the safety of their coach for such a thing, of course, but on the other hand, they had all but scandalized their coachman three nights past when he had come around to lower the steps for them, only to find Evan with his hands up her skirts and her head thrown back in delight as her husband pleasured her to release. Perhaps the music room was the best choice then. At the very least, it would likely be private.
As she hurried to her destination, Cassandra caught sight of Abby one more and this time fairly pushed her way to her friend's side. Hang being rude. She wanted to speak with her friend and then she intended to go find her husband.
"Cassandra! You are out of breath!" Abby was frowning by the time Cassandra reached her side. "Is something amiss?"
"Just my husband being a bit cheeky is all." She flashed the parchment scrap she still held tightly in her fist. "I thought we were leaving but he has changed his mind, I guess. The music room..." She trailed off, well aware that she was blushing.
Abby shook her head and grinned in understanding. "Men. They are insatiable creatures, are they not? So he cannot wait, then? That is a good sign for your marriage. Believe me when I say that."
Cassandra just smiled serenely, not wanting to reveal too much. "Yes, well, I wanted to ask if you might be interested in a jaunt to the Cross Corner's Bookshop tomorrow. I understand they still have copies of Book Six in the Mrs. Kingsley and the Black Pirate series. Hatchard's has been sold out for ages. I'm on the list there to receive a copy when more come in stock, but I'm afraid I don't wish to wait that long."
Her friend fairly chuckled with unabashed glee. "Adam will likely have my head, but yes, I would love to go with you. My husband says that he believes the novels are pure rubbish, but the other night, I caught him reading one to Richard when he thought I was abed. Somehow, I doubt my infant son much cared about the Black Pirate's adventures on the
high seas, or could even understand a word, as he is still fascinated with his toes, but I do think that Adam found great joy in reading our son just the same."
"I swear, if I ever understand the male of the species, the world will all but stop turning." Cassandra could not even imagine understanding all that went on inside Evan's head or the way his mind worked. Nor could she picture him reading to a child the way Lord Hathaway had. "So I shall call upon you tomorrow?"
"I look forward to it." Abby placed her hand on Cassandra's arm. "I am so happy that you and Lord Berkshire are making a go of this marriage, Cassie. You deserve to be happy. And to have a husband who loves you. Which he does, no matter what you say."
Cassandra smiled at her friend again, unable to hide her happiness. Nor did she want to, either. "I am happy. More than you could possibly know." She looked over Abby's shoulder. "Speaking of husbands, I think yours is searching for you."
Abby turned to see Adam sauntering towards them and it was not lost on Cassandra that her friend's face lit up with pure joy, making her all the more beautiful. Nor could one fail to notice how Adam's visage softened immediately when he finally laid eyes upon his wife. Theirs was a love that was deep and true, devotion without question.
Will Evan ever love me in that fashion? Cassandra wondered. Or will our relationship only ever be about the physical? Is he even capable of love or merely caring?
Well, she decided as she watched Adam sweep Abby away and out onto the dance floor, tonight in the music room would be a perfect opportunity for her to find out.
Chapter Eighteen
"Evan?" Cassandra called out his name softly, not wishing to disturb the quiet of the music room as she entered, in case he had something utterly delicious planned for the two of them. Though she was also surprised that he had not called out to her the moment she entered as he typically would. Around her, the room was far too still for her liking. Outside, the storm had moved off and now there was only silence in its wake. "Evan? Are you here?"
"No, but I am. The man who should be your husband."
In the far corner of the room, Cassandra saw the flickering light of a single candle move out from behind a large, Oriental-pattered translucent screen. It was Matthew.
"You tricked me. You bastard." Cassandra did her best to control her anger. "I thought my husband made it clear you were not to try to see me or speak to me again."
"Had you known it was me who wished to see you, would you have come?" There was a hardness in his voice and she didn't like it. It made her wonder how long he had been plotting and planning this moment. "I am certain I already know the answer."
She snorted indignantly. "No, and you know that without even having to ask. I have nothing to say to you and no wish to see you."
He stopped half way across the room. "And it does not matter to you that I wished to see you?"
"No!" Cassandra snapped as she turned around, looking for the door. She had moved far enough into the room searching for Evan that she hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings. Now she did and she found the room too full of shadows for her liking. "You are nothing to me." She shook her head, her eyes darting about, looking for an escape route. "At one time? Yes, I thought we shared an affection but that was before I saw the whole of you. More than that, I am married now. I have a husband. One I care for very deeply."
He shrugged and began advancing on her again. "You would not be the first woman in Society to take a lover, you know."
"I don't want a lover," she gritted out from between clenched teeth. Where was the damn door, anyway? "I want my husband and no other."
Matthew closed the distance between them. He was so close that Cassandra could see the blue of his eyes. It was not the bright, vivid blue that she remembered from their youth but rather a faded blue, the color washed out as if life had been hard on him. Perhaps it had been. His time in the army could not have been easy. However, that was not her concern. Maybe once, but not any longer.
"But I long for you, Cassie. I always have. I was a fool to allow my father to dictate my life."
She took a step backward, knowing that somewhere behind her, there was a door. She simply had to find it. "And yet you did anyway. And now that your father is in need of coin, the good reverend is encouraging his son to pursue a married woman. Do I have the right of things?"
He reached for her then, but she took another step back, desperate to find that door, though the profusion of instruments behind her in the dark was making that rather difficult. "You are making this whole affair sound so tawdry, Cassie, when it need not be. I swear, all I want is to hold you in my arms as I have dreamed of for so long. I wish to bed you and show you all of the pleasures of the flesh that I am certain your cold, unfeeling husband has and will forever continue to deny you."
As if this man knew anything about her marriage. Cassandra was seething now, but she did her best not to show her anger. A lady was never so crass.
She also refused to give this man the satisfaction of seeing her fear. Damn it all to bloody fucking hell as Evan would say. Where was that door?
This entire situation was ironic in a way. She had wed Evan to escape the clutches of Roger Follett, when in reality, Matthew, her childhood friend, had posed the greater threat to her happiness.
"Go away, Matthew. Be gone. I have no wish to see you. Stop attempting to interfere in my marriage. It is none of your concern. I do not want you!" She balled her fists at her sides to prevent herself from lashing out physically at the man since she was no closer to escaping than she had been before. It would not do to be caught striking a man. No matter how much he deserved it.
Instead of departing, however, Matthew reached for her, his fingers brushing lightly against her glove as she stumbled backward and almost fell to the floor in her haste. She had to stop herself from recoiling from his touch. He was deliberately trying to make her fall, likely so that he could pounce on her more easily - and probably get beneath her skirts if he could. "I had to see you again, my love. Don't you see? Don't you understand? I need you, Cass. I love you."
"Lies! You don't love me!" she snapped, taking another step backward as he continued to advance, this time reaching for her wrist and missing. "You love the fortune you believe I now possess."
He reached out his hand to her but she neatly sidestepped him again as she attempted to reach the blasted door that would lead back into the main part of the house and safety. Wherever it was. "I know your Aunt Ellie left you a fortune. Everyone back in Little Bromley knows that truth as well. I would beg of you to give me a chance, Cass. I wanted you so very badly when we were children, you know. Surely you remember?"
"You had your chance to court me!" Cassandra's voice was rising in pure anger now but she had to remain calm. If she lost her temper, she would lose her judgment and her bearings as well, just as she had so many times in the past when arguing with Evan. That would put her at even greater risk from this man. Who could have known that those arguments were actually good practice for this night? "Yet you followed your father's dictates instead and proved yourself to be a false man who uses people for his own ends!"
She wished there was something in here she could use as a weapon for she had no doubt that at the very least, Matthew would attempt to steal a kiss if he could ever manage to reach her. Likely a great deal more if she could not stop him. Well, that was not about to happen. Not now and not ever.
Finally free of most of the room's obstructions, Cassandra turned to flee, but her foot slid slightly, making her grasp a nearby chair for security. Unfortunately, that little misstep had taught her much. She was now afraid that if she ran heedlessly, her slippers would skid on the highly polished floor and she would lose her footing. He would be on her in an instant. Once she was pinned beneath him, she doubted that she would have much of a chance in fighting him off. Slow and steady retreat seemed her best option.
"I was a fool. I see that now." Matthew extended his hand towards her again but she increased her ba
ckward pace as much as she dared, her slippers still gliding over the polished surface. What was on this damn floor anyway? Ice? "I came to London in search of you, my love, only to find you wed to another. You cannot know how much that crushed me, Cass!"
"Crushed your plans for spending this fortune I do not possess, you mean." She reached behind her, hoping to find something, even a stray bit of sheet music that she might turn into a weapon, but found nothing. "I am done with you, Matthew. Be gone! Now! Before my husband arrives."
That made Matthew laugh. "Ah, yes, the great Lord Berkshire. A jealous sort from what I can tell. Quick to action and slow to listen. How do you think he will react if he enters and sees you in my arms, my dear? My lips pressed to yours?"
Honestly, Cassandra didn't know for she had no idea how deep his feelings for her truly ran - assuming that he had real feelings for her at all, that is. She thought he did. Then again, Evan wouldn't be pleased, no matter what. She was certain of that as well. Otherwise, he would likely be angry but then again, if he didn't care for her, he might not be too upset when he calmed down - which he eventually would. He always did. Then she remembered the way he had gazed at her earlier and thought that there might be hell to pay on all sides if she was found in the arms of another man.
"He will not see anything because there will be no kiss," she rebuked him sharply. "There will be no touching!"
However, if Matthew heard her, he didn't acknowledge her words. "I attempted to see you, you know. Came to your door several times after that first day, seeking naught but a simple visit with you, but that blasted butler of yours would not let me in."
A Scandal In the Making Page 22