“Of course it will be,” Emily said. “You mustn’t worry about that. Now is the time for you to enjoy yourself.”
“I must confess I’m a little concerned about Penelope. I mean, she’s terribly excited to travel, but what if it’s not as wonderful as she’s expecting?” Cassandra pressed her lips together, then added, “From what I gather, life on a ship can be difficult, and once we’re on it, we can’t exactly change our minds and decide to get off.”
“That is true,” Mary said, “but I also think you’re worrying over something that’s sure to turn out fine. Penelope has always loved reading adventure stories, and her favorite thing to do when she was younger was study the globe in the Clearview library. If she’s keen on the idea of travelling, I’m confident she’ll enjoy the experience. And consider all the things she will learn. It’s truly incredible if you think about it.”
“I suppose so,” Cassandra agreed. She glanced across at Devlin again and could not help but notice how happy he looked. Apprehension tightened her stomach. Perhaps it wasn’t so much her concern for Penelope that made her nervous. Maybe that was just an excuse and the real issue was the idea of having to keep Devlin’s company for – she blinked – the rest of her life. Tamping down the panic that threatened to rise, she gave her attention back to her friends. “I went to the cemetery yesterday. I haven’t been in a while.” She’d hoped the visit would give her some peace of mind. Instead, it had made her feel worse.
“I cannot put myself in your shoes,” Mary said. She placed her hand over Cassandra’s. “If I were to lose Caleb, I’d be devastated. But having said that, I do believe in second chances. And I think this is yours, Cass.”
Cassandra took a deep breath and returned her cup to its saucer. “Maybe.” It was the best response she could give without torturing herself or her friends with her muddled emotions. She and Timothy hadn’t been married, and he’d now been dead for over a decade. Most people would probably say it was past time for her to move on.
But it wasn’t so simple. Not when she’d known Timothy all her life. Their parents had been close friends, and he’d attended Eton with her brother. As she’d grown older, what had begun as admiration for the older boy who could make coins appear and disappear as if by magic and who always had a joke ready to make her laugh had evolved into the fiercest kind of love she’d ever known. During the year leading up to their engagement, he’d become her best friend, her closest confidant, and the single most important person in her life.
Losing him would probably have killed her, had it not been for Penelope. So she thanked God for her daughter’s existence, and every night before falling asleep, she whispered the pledge she’d made to Timothy while she’d been lying in his arms. I am yours and you are mine, forever and always, no matter what.
“Are you ready?”
Cassandra started. She’d been so lost in the past she’d forgotten her surroundings completely. She blinked and looked up. Devlin was standing next to her seat, waiting for her to respond.
“Yes. Of course.” Aware all eyes were on her, she rose and accepted his escort. Together they took their leave of everyone before heading outside to the awaiting carriage. They would be spending the night at Mivart’s Hotel while Penelope remained behind at Camberly House.
Devlin helped Cassandra into the carriage then took a seat beside her on the bench. As the conveyance rolled into motion, he reached for her hand. Cassandra tried to relax but her stomach fluttered like mad in anticipation of how the evening would unfold. Would he remember their agreement or would he expect her to do her wifely duty? He could force her if he chose to. He’d have every right. No one would fault him. But Devlin wasn’t that sort of man, so she knew he’d respect her wishes eventually. She just didn’t want to argue over it.
“It’s been a busy day,” he said, wrapping his fingers more securely around hers. “We’ve scarcely had time to talk.”
“I know.” She chuckled, the sound thinner than she would have liked. Hoping to hide the evidence of her unease, she quickly added, “Your mother’s efforts paid off though. It was a beautiful party with excellent food.” While Mary and Emily had both pitched in and Cassandra had done her part as well, the dowager duchess had been the driving force behind the wedding arrangements.
“I think she’s very relieved to have married me off. And,” he added with a hint of deep appreciation, “to the loveliest woman in the world, no less.” Leaning closer, he told her softly, “You are an exceptionally beautiful bride, Cass.”
“Tha—thank you.” And now she couldn’t speak properly. Taking a long slow breath, she tried to steady her nerves. “You made a handsome groom. That blue color suits you very well.” She cleared her throat and fought the temptation to kick herself. Which would be a difficult feat to accomplish anyway since—
“I’m not going to press my advances, Cass.”
“Wha—what?”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re so tense right now I worry you might implode, and the only reason I can imagine for such a state is anxiety over what to expect. Am I correct?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”
Grinning, he scooted away from her slightly. “We have an agreement, so unless you’ve decided to renegotiate…” He paused until she shook her head. “I won’t force the issue. Which is why I’ve arranged for two adjoining rooms tonight instead of just one. If you’re amenable to the idea, I thought we might talk, have some dinner, and maybe play a game of cards before retiring to our respective beds.”
“That would be lovely, Devlin.” Her voice cracked this time, not because of her nerves but because he’d managed to touch a place deep within her soul. Her eyes pricked, forcing her to turn her attention toward the window and the scenery beyond. “Thank you,” she whispered, even though no words could convey the scope of her appreciation.
“Think nothing of it, Cass. My only concern from now on is to make you and Penelope happy.”
The emotion filling her heart overflowed and tears spilled onto her cheek. Whatever doubts she’d had about marrying Devlin were swept away and replaced by assurance. He was the kindest, most selfless man ever to walk the earth, and she was the luckiest woman alive to call herself his wife.
After checking into the hotel, Devlin and Cassandra decided to take a walk through Vauxhall Garden instead of spending the entire evening indoors. They stopped to eat dinner in one of the supper boxes before going to watch the infamous Cascade and firework display.
At some point they even began discussing the tactical errors Napoleon had made during the war. It wasn’t the sort of conversation they’d ever engaged in before, and Devlin was impressed to learn that Cassandra knew her political history remarkably well. So much so he was loath for their discussion to end. But when they returned to the hotel and he escorted Cassandra upstairs, she slowed her pace as they approached their rooms.
“It’s been a lovely day,” she said. “The wedding was perfect and I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together this evening.” They reached her door and drew to a halt. “You mentioned cards earlier, but I’m actually quite tired.” She bit her lip before hesitantly asking, “Do you mind if I retire instead?”
“Of course not,” It was in truth rather late and he was pretty exhausted himself. “Perhaps you’ll share your views on the War of 1812 tomorrow?”
“Only if you’re prepared for them to be controversial.” She followed the comment with a cheeky smile, and he almost cheered because she’d obviously managed to relax in his presence.
The camaraderie they’d returned to and the additional gumption she’d revealed pleased him beyond compare. She was slowly making him realize she had a boisterous streak, permitting her to joke and tease in the best way possible.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said in response to her comment. An odd, not exactly uncomfortable but somewhat inquisitive pause followed. She bit her lip and he wondered whether to say something more. Eventually, he decide
d to raise her hand to his lips for a reverent kiss, after which he wished her goodnight and promptly removed himself to his own room.
Roughly twenty minutes later, he remembered that he’d forgotten to tell her to knock on his door in the morning when she awoke so they could go down for breakfast together. One glance at their connecting door and the sliver of light beneath confirmed she was still awake. So Devlin put his shirt back on and knocked.
It felt like eternity passed before he heard her voice on the opposite side. “Yes?’ The question was muffled.
“I wanted to tell you to—”
“What?” He barely made out the word.
Raising his voice a notch, he said, “I wanted to—”
She said something he couldn’t discern. Devlin sighed and stared at the door. He knocked again.
There was a pause and then the door handle moved. He took a step back, prepared to convey his idea the moment she opened the door completely, but the perfectly structured sentence he’d had at the ready stumbled and fell off the tip of his tongue like a drunkard as soon as he saw her.
He tried not to gape or stare or look like he’d never seen a woman before, but he feared he wasn’t entirely successful. Although it wasn’t exactly his fault when she stood before him dressed in the sort of nightgown designed to make a man want a hell of a lot more than friendship. Not that it was seductive, per se, but it was cut from muslin so sheer he could clearly make out the shape of her body beneath. Lord, how his fingers itched to reach out and touch her. Just a little.
“I…er…ah…” He cleared his throat and tried again while gazing at a spot on the wall behind her left shoulder. “I thought it might be nice to eat breakfast together in the morning.”
“Um…” She sounded uncertain and slightly confused.
“You can knock on the door once you’re ready.”
“Oh. All right.”
He frowned. Was he imagining things or was she having trouble with words as well? Hazarding a quick glance at her face, he noted she looked slightly dazed. Or tired. Hell, she’d probably fallen asleep with the oil lamp still burning only to have him jolt her awake.
“Good. I will see you in the morning then. Sleep well and don’t forget to turn down the light.”
She nodded. “You too. I mean, sleep well, that is.”
The door closed between them, leaving Devlin to ponder their awkward exchange. He scratched his head. Something about it perplexed him though he couldn’t quite figure out what. Sighing, he removed his shirt and the rest of his clothes, climbed into bed, and prayed for sleep to save him from the discomfort his wife was causing.
Chapter 7
Four days later, Cassandra watched from the parlor window of Camberly House as her luggage was loaded onto the carriage that would take it, her, and Penelope to the harbor. To avoid difficult questions and explanations, Devlin had claimed he had a lot of things to attend to before departure and that he preferred spending the remainder of his days and nights in England on board the ship.
In a way, Cassandra had been glad to avoid sharing a bedchamber with him. After seeing him in only his shirt, gaping open to allow a clear view of his chest, she hadn’t thought her brain would ever function properly again. A rush of heat settled over her skin at the memory of it, and she deliberately closed her eyes, desperate to block it out, but of course that just made it worse.
With a low groan, she turned away from the window and went to join Mary and the children, who’d all assembled for afternoon tea and strawberry tarts fresh out of the oven. Hopefully, they would be able to distract her from her body’s betrayal and from the thoughts she had no business having. Devlin might be her husband, but only by law. When it came to her heart and soul, she belonged to Timothy and Timothy alone.
“Is something troubling you?” Mary asked once the children finished eating and all headed out for a walk with one of the maids. “You look more sullen than I would have expected, considering your newly married state and upcoming travels.”
“I’m fine,” Cassandra lied and immediately added, “it’s just…” When her friend merely waited for her to continue, Cassandra confessed, “I’m not sure marrying Devlin was the right thing to do.”
Mary’s eyes widened. Her head tilted slightly to one side. “Why do you say that?”
Cassandra drew a deep breath and felt the air quiver across her lips. “Because I’ll never be the wife he deserves. I…I told him I’d never be able to…to be more than a friend and that my only reason for marrying him was for Penelope’s sake.” Lord, it sounded terrible. “He accepted all of this, but I worry I did him a serious disservice by not turning him down. I was thinking of Penelope’s future and now… I think I must be the most selfish woman in existence.” She clasped one hand to her mouth. “Oh God, Mary, what have I done?”
“The right thing, that’s what,” Mary told her. “You’re not a foolish woman, Cass.”
“My parents would argue that point.”
“They can go hang, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
Cassandra’s lips twitched and then she was suddenly laughing instead of crying as she’d expected to do only two seconds earlier. “It’s quite all right, Mary. I rather agree.”
Mary gave her a pensive look that turned her expression more serious. “You married Devlin in order to safeguard your and your daughter’s reputations. There is nothing wrong with that when the man himself was determined to make you do it.”
“I suppose he did chase after me all the way to Clearview. And I did tell him what to expect.”
“Then he has no reason to want something else. Does he?”
“Not really, I suppose.” The real problem was that Cassandra didn’t know if she could trust herself to stay loyal to a memory when a real flesh and blood man was hers for the taking.
Mary smiled and offered Cassandra a strawberry tart. “You should stop worrying and trust things to work out as they’re supposed to.”
It was good advice for someone with a simpler problem, but Cassandra didn’t tell her friend that. Instead, she ate her tart and waited for the butler to tell her it was time to depart.
“Goodness gracious me,” Penelope whispered against the glass pane of the carriage window when they rolled to a halt beside The Condor an hour later. “Is that it, Mama?” Cassandra peered over Penelope’s shoulder. “Is that the one we’ll be sailing on?”
“I believe so, my love.”
The carriage door opened and the driver set down the steps. Cassandra helped Penelope alight and then glanced about at the mass of people bustling to and fro. It was an interesting blend of merchants, sailors, upper class gentlemen, and tradesmen. Only a few women were present, making Cassandra feel rather like a red apple among all the yellow ones.
She clasped Penelope’s hand and turned to the driver. “Do we just go on board?” Perhaps asking Caleb to greet them on the quay so he could escort them would not have been a terrible idea. But Cassandra was used to handling things on her own, so she’d decided there wasn’t a need to trouble him.
“I think that’s your husband right now, coming to assist you,” the driver said. Cassandra turned and immediately spotted Devlin. His warm gaze was fixed entirely on her as he ate up the distance between them, striding down the gangplank as if he owned the entire country.
“Dev!” Penelope squealed and yanked her hand free from Cassandra’s so she could run toward her new stepfather. The driver chuckled, gave Cassandra a look of amusement, and went to unload her trunks and bags.
Cassandra remained where she was, unsure of how to proceed. For although she was pleased to see Devlin again, she wasn’t sure how to greet him. Their relationship was unique – something slightly more than friendship, yet significantly less than a love match. In the end, her concerns were unfounded. Having given Penelope a hug and exchanged a few words with her, he took her by the hand, crossed to where Cassandra stood, and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek.
It was chaste and ve
ry polite, yet somehow…lacking. Cassandra knit her brow and tried to focus on something besides the fact that she wished he’d done something a little more daring. Although to be fair, she had no idea what that something could have been, considering all the stipulations she’d placed on their marriage.
She sighed, fully aware she wasn’t being very fair to him and disliking herself for it more than she’d ever expected.
“You look well,” he said with the sort of bright smile that did funny things to her insides.
“As do you,” Cassandra murmured.
His eyes flashed with something akin to amusement, and then he asked Penelope, “Are you ready to see your cabin?”
“Oh yes. I can scarcely wait!” Penelope started forward, practically dragging Devlin along behind her. Cassandra hid a smile and followed.
“Have you remembered to pack enough fruit and vegetables?” Penelope asked in a rush of words.
Devlin gave Cassandra a hasty glance as if to make sure she was coming along before dropping his gaze to Penelope, “Why do you ask?”
“Well, from what I have read, eating fresh fruit and vegetables helps prevent scurvy. And since I do value my teeth, I think that’s an ailment I’d rather not have to experience. According to Captain Cook – I started reading one of his books in preparation for this journey, you know – lemon juice also works. And since Mama does enjoy making lemonade and I have never had scurvy, I suppose he must have been on to something. And also…” They made their way across the gangplank. “I’ve been wondering about the risk of falling out of bed.”
At this, Devlin started laughing. “You’ve certainly been giving a great deal of thought to life aboard a ship, Penny.” He turned to help Cassandra down onto the deck. “To ease your mind, we have plenty of fresh supplies to get us to Portugal. We’ll stop there for a couple of days in order to bring more fresh fruit like oranges and lemons aboard so we’ve got enough to get us to Cape Town.”
Her Seafaring Scoundrel Page 8