In the Garden of Seduction
Page 26
Simon reached out and took her hand across the table. “I’m not a coward, but I don’t think I can make myself eat the whole bowl. I consumed a substantial serving last night, however, at the time I was drunk as a lord. I’m afraid I’m not up to it sober. I assume that’s the reason my jaws ache today.”
Cassandra clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear,” she said, trying to control her amusement. “You said he could cook.”
“Right then,” he acknowledged, “except for stew.”
“What are we to do? We’ll hurt Timothy’s feelings if we don’t eat.”
Simon’s eyes took on a considering light. “Do you suppose he’ll notice if we put it back in the pot? It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
Before she could finish nodding, the marquess had sprung from his chair. He seized the bowls, one in each hand and, moving with a speed born of desperation, dumped the congealing mess back into the kettle. He returned to the table and set her empty dish in front of her.
“There,” he said, replacing his bowl and sitting down, “the boy’s feelings are spared and so are our bellies.”
“My hero,” Cassandra teased. She batted her eyelashes at him and, though Simon winked at her in return, his expression sobered.
Sighing, he said, “I hate to end this pleasant interlude but the outside world awaits. When did you say Lydia is returning?”
“At dusk. I’m to ride with her to Sutherfield.” She paused. “That is, if you want me to.”
He scowled. “You’d best believe that’s what I want. We have a marriage to plan. Something small and intimate. And I don’t think we should waste any time, either. Today could have consequences.”
Cassandra looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Simon cocked his brows at her, his brows turning suggestive. “Didn’t anyone tell you how babies are made?”
Now why was she embarrassed at the mention of babies after what had transpired between them only a short while ago? But she was, and she stared at him nonplused.
“Frankly, sweetheart,” he continued, more seriously, “it’s more than expediency—I don’t want to wait.”
Her expression relaxed into a shy smile. “Nor do I.”
“A special license at Sutherfield with our closest friends and family will please you?” he asked. “I like the idea of doing this quickly, but I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I’m not a person tied to ceremony, Simon,” she said. “As long as my father is there. And Sophy, naturally.”
“What of your grandfather?”
Cassandra hesitated. “I think he’ll come. I hope he does.” She shrugged fatalistically. “We’ll simply have to see.”
Simon rose to his feet and, taking her hand, pulled her from her chair. He took her in his arms and kissed her long and tenderly. When he raised his head his dark eyes swirled with renewed desire.
“Soon,” he muttered roughly, “I mean that, Cassandra. I don’t have the stamina to wait. Now,” he said, putting her away from him, “before my resolve fails me help me gather my things. I want to be ready to leave when Lydia arrives.”
*****
“Who is that horrible little boy with the angel’s face?” Outraged, Lydia stood in the middle of the great room of her brother’s hunting lodge, hands on hips. “He nearly tackled me to keep me from coming in here.”
Simon sent a secretive wink to Cassandra where she waited by the front door. “That’s our young Tim,” he explained. “You’ve heard me speak of him, Lydia.”
“Then I suggest, brother dear, when you teach him to be your groom, you also teach him some manners. I expected a cowed child, grateful for his condition, not that bold little person.”
“He’s looking after my interests. Forgive me, but I’d have it no other way. I like my servants loyal.” Simon crossed to his sister’s side and placed an arm around her. “Don’t be irritable with me, my dear,” he said expansively, squeezing her shoulders, “for I’m especially happy with you right now. Cassie and I are to be married.” He sent Cassandra a warm smile.
“It’s about time you two came to your senses,” Lydia announced, but her smile was satisfied. “We’re on our way to Sutherfield. I hope you’ll be coming soon, Simon, because I’m certain Cassandra will appreciate your support. You know how Mother can be.”
“Indeed,” he said dryly. “I’m packed as we speak. Timothy and I will leave within the hour.”
Lydia linked arms with her future sister-in-law and moved into the yard. Simon followed and helped the ladies into the coach, closing the door as they seated themselves. He glanced up to see Cassandra watching him from the carriage window and his expression softened.
“I’m right behind you, love. Wait for me,” he said.
Cassandra nodded, blowing him a kiss with the tips of her fingers. She sat back on the seat as the carriage pulled from the yard, a feeling of contentment washing over her.
The countess smiled. “My brother certainly looks pleased with himself.”
Cassandra’s only answer was a fiery blush.
“Oh heavens, I’m not going to ask.” Lydia patted her arm.
Cassandra gave a shaky laugh, relieved that her companion was not only perceptive but discreet. She took Lydia’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“Thank you, Lydia. I don’t know what I…we would have done without you.”
Straightening her skirts, the countess nodded sagely.
*****
EPILOGUE
London, 1809—Christmas
“Are you all right, love?” Simon leaned over in the pew, closely inspecting his wife’s pale features.
Cassandra smiled wanly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re still feeling queasy, aren’t you?” he demanded. “I told you we shouldn’t come. Everyone would have understood.”
“I couldn’t miss Penelope and Roger’s wedding, Simon. I promised Grandfather I would attend. If he thinks this will give the appearance of family unity then I think we were obligated to try. In his own pig-headed way he’s been making an effort.”
Simon grunted, clearly unconvinced.
Cassandra glanced around the cavernous church, drinking in the majesty of the place. The nuptials had just ended, and the guests were filtering from the building, although she and Simon remained seated.
“Penelope was beautiful, don’t you think?” she asked.
“For a brat she dressed up nicely.”
“Simon!”
“You asked,” came the implacable reply.
Yes, she did. “It was a lovely ceremony, though, wasn’t it?” Cassandra asked.
“Too much ceremony for me, if you must know,” he muttered. “I prefer the way we did it. Quick and to the point and then on to more important things.” Simon raised his brows at her suggestively.
“Yes, and look where I am because of it,” Cassandra said in mock disapproval, discreetly patting her stomach.
His expression became serious as he took her chin in his hand. “Any regrets?” he asked gently.
“Never,” she stated. “I’m happier than I ever thought possible. And the baby makes everything perfect.”
Simon’s eyes glowed with satisfaction and he nodded.
The atmosphere in the church grew hushed and somber with the last of the guests filing out the great cathedral entrance, and an icy blast blew down the aisle as the door closed for the final time. The candles on the altar flickered wildly, creating dancing shadows on the vaulted ceiling overhead.
A penetrating, otherworldly stillness followed.
“In a way this is better,” Cassandra whispered, awestruck.
“How do you mean?”
“Just you and me in this wondrous place.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “I’m glad we came.”
Simon took her hand and squeezed it. “Are you up to a reception?” he asked, unable to mask his concern. “We don’t have to, you know.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She came to h
er feet. “With the baby due in June, this may be my last opportunity to enjoy a party for quite a while. I’m feeling better.”
Simon stood and helped her into her fur-lined cloak. They stepped from the pews, and he paused.
“Wait here,” he said.
Sprinting to the front of the church, he plucked a rose from one of the arrangements gracing the altar. He turned and trotted back to her.
“Simon, thank you. I’ve come to love roses more than any other flower,” she said mistily, running the dainty pink bloom under her nose.
“As have I, my love, as have I.” His gaze turned black with memory. He took her arm and slowly they headed down the aisle toward the exit. At the door he stopped and gathered her into his embrace. “I love you, Cassandra Fitzgerald.”
His words were husky and warm, and Cassandra experienced a shiver of anticipation.
“And I love you, Simon Fitzgerald.”
“Show me,” Simon growled, taking her mouth.
For several long moments they shared their love in that holy place, and then Lord Sutherfield and his lady walked into the brightness of London’s winter sun.
*****
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In the Garden of Seduction