“Yes, well I felt obligated to inform you of her standing.”
“May I speak with her?” James watched as Chester all but squirmed in his seat.
“Well, you see, that would be difficult at this time.”
“Why?”
“Cassandra was having a hard time adjusting to life in town, so Lady Chester decided it would be best if she returned to the country.”
Icy dread washed over James. She had been banished. “You sent her to your family seat.”
“Er,” Chester cleared his throat. “No, no the gel got it into her head to visit Scotland.”
“Scotland?”
“Yes, she wanted to visit Scotland.”
James stood. “I trust your wife and daughter accompanied her on her journey?”
Chester laughed. “Of course not, Your Grace. The Season is just getting started. No, Cassandra left with a companion my wife hired.”
“You allowed her to set off on such an extended journey with only a companion?” Fear now joined the anger pumping through his blood. “How long ago did they depart?”
“Dawn. I assure you she is hardly without protection. I sent several outriders along with the ladies. They will be perfectly safe.” Chester stood. “I will be happy to accept your suit on behalf of my niece.”
James made his way to the door. His plans had changed.
The moment he reached his townhouse, he called for his butler. “I will be departing for Scotland within the hour. Have my bags packed.”
He then dashed off a note to his sister informing her that he was departing for the north. If he planned this correctly, he could catch up with the coach by day's end.
* * * *
Cassandra's stomach pitched and rolled with the swaying of the coach. She gripped the hand strap and closed her eyes, sending a prayer heavenward that they would stop soon.
Closing her eyes was the wrong thing to do, and she moaned.
“Stop the coach. Lady Cassandra needs some air,” Martha Crumpton yelled out the window. She then turned her attention to Cassandra. “One more moment, dear gel.”
Thankfully, the coach came to a full stop. Cassandra clambered out without aid of the footman, who was standing at the back of the coach.
She inhaled a bracing lung full of fresh country air, settling her head along with her stomach.
They'd stopped in a charming glen filled with snowdrops and blue bells. It was beautiful and reminded her of a meadow not far from her old home.
Unbidden, happy memories of her life in Charleston came rushing back, and despite her best efforts, tears fell. Her parents had been dead for more than a year, still the pain of their loss gnawed at her. Would she ever be free from the hurt?
She blamed her maudlin thoughts on the fatigue pulling at her. They had been traveling for hours, and Miss Crumpton had informed her earlier they still had a good long way to go before they arrived in Scotland.
“Are you feeling better, dear? You seem to have a wee bit more color to those cheeks of yours,” Miss Crumpton said, moving slowly with the aid of her cane. “Nothing is worse than being ill whilst one is traveling.”
All Cassandra could do at the moment was nod in confirmation. How strange to be plagued with this motion sickness. It had never bothered her before. She chalked it up to not having much sleep, little to eat, and a great deal on her mind. It was nigh impossible to find comfort while being jostled around when the wheels hit every pothole possible. At least she rode in a private coach. How much worse the ride would be on an uncomfortable public coach.
A cool breeze brushed her over-warm cheeks. She sighed, relaxing as her stomach settled. She cast the coach a disgruntled look. Eventually she would have to return to the confines of the conveyance but would stretch this break for as long as she could.
Miss Crumpton pointed with her cane. “My, but this is a charming glen. I am going to have the footmen set out a repast here. The fresh air and good food will do you well before we embark for the inn where we will stay this eve.”
Cassandra smiled at the sweet old lady who was now her chaperone and companion for the foreseeable future.
Aunt Gertrude had wasted no time in making the arrangements to remove Cassandra from London posthaste. Although this was to be her punishment for capturing the duke's attention, she had no problem returning to the country. Her aunt informed her His Grace had not partnered any other last night after their shared waltz—other than the one lone dance with Sara, from which he'd quickly escaped.
To her aunt, this was very bad. Cassandra allowed her heart had smiled. Perhaps she had made a good impression on the handsome duke after all.
The memories of their dance continued to play in her mind. Without a doubt, it had been the most romantic experience of her life. She now understood why it was scandalous and perhaps why it upset her aunt so much.
She couldn't deny her attraction for the man, so dynamic and handsome. She loved how he smiled, and his laughter danced along her nerve endings. For the short time she had spent in his company, a sense of protection cloaked her. Deep down she knew she would be safe with him. It was her misfortune he was meant for someone else.
“Come along, dear. Perhaps you will feel more the thing after you put a little food on your stomach.”
Eating was the last thing Cassandra wanted to do, but she didn't want to hurt Miss Crumpton's feelings. She sat beside her new companion and selected an apple.
She bit into the brilliant red skin and sighed as the sweet juices trickled down her throat.
Chewing slowly, she realized she was hungry. The apple was perfect and she continued to nibble on the sweet fruit. After she finished, she wet a cloth and wiped her hands.
“Is that all you are going to eat, dear?”
“Yes, for now. I do not want to overtax my stomach. I cannot imagine what my problem is. Travel has never affected me this way before.”
“'Tis nerves.”
She smiled. “I have nothing to be nervous about. Truth be told, I am glad I have left the city behind.”
“Yes,” Miss Crumpton said as she reached for a cucumber sandwich and nibbled daintily. “I never really enjoyed the social whirl either. Although I did notice you enjoyed a wonderful dance with His Grace.”
Before she could respond, a rider appeared in the distance. He sat the mount as if he owned the world. Another man who thought he was godlike. Another lord of the ton. She prayed he would ride on past without stopping.
A wave of fatigue washed over her, and she covered her mouth as a yawn escaped. Unbidden tears filled her eyes. She was so tired. Tired of trying to make people happy, tired of pretending she wasn't sad about her parents being gone to her forever, and mostly sad because the one man she knew she could love was off limits and out of reach.
“Lie down and rest a spell, dear gel. I will have our repast packed and we can continue to our destination.”
Cassandra needn't worry about what anyone would think of her reclining on the grass or if she would stain her dress. She pillowed her head on her arms and closed her eyes. The tears she tried to keep at bay slid from beneath her closed eyes. She felt so terribly alone.
Perhaps Scotland would be good for her. It meant putting distance between her and James, she needed to let go of the dream of a happy ending with him. Was this the cause of her sadness and disquiet? She knuckled one of her cheeks and sighed. How silly to think she could fall in love with someone after one dance. Yet she feared this might be what happened.
She dreamed of what it would be like to fall in love, marry, and then live happily, raising children and keeping her husband's company. She never once thought she would find herself struggling to keep her identity while stepping into the world of the ton. At the same time, if she had not suffered this upheaval in her life, she would have missed experiencing the heady emotions of attraction.
A sigh escaped her and a few more tears traced a path down her cheek.
“Why are you crying, Sweeting?”
<
br /> Cassandra jerked upright and stared into the beautiful blue eyes of James. He was sitting on his haunches beside her. He was here. But, how?
Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Here she was out in the middle of nowhere. Once again he had managed to catch her acting like a proper hoyden. Ignoring her discomfort for a moment, she forced a smile. “The answer is not going to reflect well upon me, Your Grace.”
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, and then he sat beside her with one leg stretched out in from of him and the other bent, resting an arm over it. He was so handsome sitting there in his buff riding breeches and dark green coat. His chestnut hair was in disarray, but he was here in her fairy glade. That mattered most.
“I was indulging in a bout of self-pity, if you must know.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Am I breaking a social rule by not standing and curtsying to you?”
He leaned over and whispered, “No.”
For a short time, neither spoke, and instead of being uncomfortable, she found the silence almost healing.
James moved closer to her and cupped her cheek with one hand. His touch sent fire dancing down her nerve endings. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever set eyes on.” He bent and touched his mouth to hers.
The contact was light—at first. He moved in and put one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She went with no argument. She loved the feel of his lips against hers. He moved his mouth back and forth and then he traced her lower lip with his tongue. The action surprised her, but she liked the feel.
“Open your mouth for me, Sweeting,” he whispered.
She complied, and when the velvet rub of his tongue moved against hers, she was lost. A thrilling combination of excitement and curiosity raced through her.
When he cupped the back of her head and angled her mouth for deeper penetration, she hesitantly let her tongue rub against his. He groaned and tightened his embrace. She must have done right by her first kiss. The kiss was slow, deep and passionate. Everything a girl could wish for.
The kiss gentled, and James pulled back. Smiling, he brushed his thumb once again over her lower lip; the sensitive flesh tingled in response.
“We have much to discuss, my lady.”
“We do?” Cassandra tried to focus on the words James spoke, but it was so difficult to concentrate. She touched her mouth with one of her fingers and James smiled again.
Gently he lowered her hand from her mouth, still smiling. “Yes. I had planned to call on you later today, but my sister informed me you were taking a trip.”
“Ah, yes, rather an unplanned event.” Cassandra looked down. Now that James sat before her, her banishment was harder to accept.
“I am afraid your plans will have to be changed. I have already spoken with your uncle, and he agrees wholeheartedly as a matter of fact.”
Cassandra brought her head up quickly. “I don't understand.”
“I realize we hardly know each other, but I would like to ask you a question.”
Movement behind James pulled Cassandra's attention from him for a moment. She smiled when she saw it was Miss Crumpton approaching.
“Your Grace, I would like to introduce you to my chaperone and companion, Miss Crumpton.”
James stood and turned toward her new friend.
“Oh, oh goodness gracious,” Miss Crumpton sputtered as she tried to move into a curtsy. “It is an honor to meet, Your Grace.”
James stilled her action. “Please, no need for such formalities. Today I am not a duke, but merely a man enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon with two charming ladies.”
Cassandra smiled while Miss Crumpton blushed. He turned and sat beside Cassandra, taking one of her hands in his. “The reason why I have searched for you is because I would like to ask you for your hand in marriage.”
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* * *
Chapter Four
Cassandra blinked at him and then blinked again before she blurted out the first thing that came to her. “No. You can't! It is impossible.”
James smiled. “I realize this is a startling series of events. We have only known each other for ... less than a day really, but I do believe there is a connection between us. There is nothing impossible about it.”
Cassandra shook her head. “You do not understand. I do not plan on staying here in England any longer than necessary.” Panic began to make her shake. “I wish to return to my home in America. I cannot do that if I am wed to you.”
Miss Crumpton gasped beside her. “Are you unwell, Miss Crumpton?”
The older woman waved her off. “I am perfectly well. But my dear, one does not rebuff a duke.” She turned her head and smiled. “I am afraid dear Cassandra is simply overwrought by the unexpectedness of your charming offer.”
How unfair was this. James was handsome and kind. And yes, there was something that burned between them. She touched her lips once again. And the way he kissed. Sheer heaven.
“Tell His Grace you have reconsidered, dear. Really, he is the best catch of the season.” She reached over and patted James's shoulder. “No offense, Your Grace.”
He smiled warmly. “None taken, my lady.”
Numb with shock, Cassandra shook her head. “I wish I could be the woman you need to have by your side, but I simply cannot. We come from two very different worlds. Now, if you will excuse me.” She did not wait and turned away from him, walking blindly into the meadow.
James followed and quickly caught up with her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. “You, my dear little American, are exactly what I want and need in my life.”
“You don't mean that—”
“You are not impressed with my title or wealth; you do not care for the trappings of society.” He cupped her face. “You are beautiful and sweet. You believe in wishing on stars and are not afraid to discuss something that does not surround the weather. That is rare in my world, and until last eve, I had no idea what I had been missing.”
“I will embarrass you, Your Grace. Eventually, any soft feelings you have for me will fall to the wayside when you realize how unprepared I am to be your duchess.”
James pulled her closer, his embrace warm and protective. She rested her head against his chest allowing, for the moment, to enjoy the comfort of his arms around her. The citrus scent of his aftershave tickled her nose. She would forever associate this smell with James.
“You worry too much, little one. I know you are untried in our social rules. I find this refreshing. I know the attraction you feel for me is because of the man I am, not the title I possess.” He pulled back and looked down at her with tenderness she never thought to see in his eyes. “Things will not be easy, but I will stand beside you as you enter my world. I would never forsake you.”
Her heart wanted to listen to him. Beyond all reason she wanted to believe he meant everything he said. And she had no doubt he did here in this special glade far from the prying, judging eyes of society.
“I do not know how to respond.” Her voice was shaky with a combination of the fear and excitement coursing through her.
“Shh.” He bent and kissed her. This time it was a deep and searching kiss, far different than the last one. It soothed, while it excited. It made her believe there could be a happy union between them.
“Trust me, Cassandra.”
“What about my wanting to return to America?”
“We can visit on occasion.” He smoothed a curl off her face.
“What about my family?” Aunt Gertrude had made her feelings clear. If dancing the waltz with James had garnered her a trip to Scotland, what would marrying the duke earn her? “Aunt believes you are to marry Sara.”
James clenched his jaw and said nothing ... at first. “I have already discussed this with your uncle. You have nothing to fear from that quarter.”
Cassandra closed her eyes. Everything was happening fast. Did this mean his asking her to marry him was a formality? Was her betrothal to the duke a foregone conclu
sion, or did she have a choice in the matter?
As if he'd read her mind, he continued, “I plan on courting you, Cassandra. My intentions are not to overwhelm you and rush you to the altar. I want your consent. As for your family, let me be perfectly blunt. I considered your cousin; this is true, but not after meeting you. There is no question in my mind who I want to marry.”
Cassandra put some much needed space between them. “You do not know me, Your Grace.”
“James. When we are alone I wish to hear you call me by my Christian name.” He closed the distance between them, taking her hands.
The heat from the contact shot up her arm. Would she ever get used to her extreme reaction to his touch? She was already in love with him, truth be told. When she dreamed of the man she would marry, it included the romantic nonsense of little girls. The reality was so much different and yet, there was a shimmer of the whimsy she'd always held close. The little girl wishing for her prince. Well, James wasn't a prince, but he was as close to royalty as one could be without wearing the crown.
As far as Cassandra was concerned, James was a prince. He was sensitive, and oh so handsome. He made her feel special. Moreover, he made her want to say yes to his proposal.
“What about Scotland? Where am I supposed to go?”
James smiled. “Why, my lady, you are going to climb into yon carriage, and we will return to the city. I will see you to your door, explain things to your aunt, and then I will return the following day to take you for a ride in the Park.”
Cassandra glanced at the carriage and wanted to run. In the opposite direction. Could she take any more time in that miserable contraption? She really didn't think so, and the idea of casting up her accounts with James present was even less appealing. What if she humiliated herself and became more sickly, soiling herself and those who rode with her? No, that would never do. “Perhaps it would be best if you went ahead. You can call upon me tomorrow.”
James frowned. “Why would I do that? I thought perhaps we could spend the journey getting to know each other better. You could tell me of your life in America.”
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