“I hope my letter did not shock you overly much,” Cassandra said, pausing to study Amanda’s reaction.
Her sister smiled. “I was delighted to hear that you were rid of Reddington. Now, I no longer have to fear for your safety.”
Cassandra fought to keep her face blank. She would eventually tell Amanda why she had come to London, but first she wanted her sister to enjoy a few girlish moments of curiosity. “I can take care of myself, Amanda. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“You have never fooled me with the brave front you affect. I know how difficult this marriage has been.” Amanda reached up to push an errant curl off her sister’s face. “I know what you sacrificed for all of us.”
Cassandra sighed. She had tried to shelter her sisters from the worst of what she’d experienced, but Amanda was particularly intuitive.
Amanda placed a hand on her sister’s arm. “Please tell me about Mr. Foxwood. I’ve seen him at a few parties, but I’ve never been introduced to him.”
“I should think not. He’s hardly an appropriate acquaintance for an innocent.”
Amanda laughed. “All the more reason I need you to tell me about him. So what is it like to...I mean how is he...oh, tell me everything.”
“He’s overbearing, controlling, infuriating, and even more stunning without his clothes than he is in them.”
At this, Amanda burst into giggles. “So it is enjoyable, not just painful?”
When Amanda had inquired about how she had fared in the marriage bed, Cassandra had been forced to tell an abbreviated version of Reddington’s problem, so her sister knew she had never experienced relations with a man. “It hurt a bit the first time, but yes, I can emphatically say it is enjoyable. I don’t think it would be with every man though. I am guessing that Mark is quite skilled.”
A deep shade of red crept into Amanda’s cheeks. “I am glad you no longer have to suffer. Do you still believe you are doing the right thing?”
“The only thing I have doubted is my choice of Mark as my co- conspirator. He makes me feel far too much—anger, passion, frustration.”
Amanda’s mouth hung open. “Dear God. You’re in love with him.”
“No!”
The vehemence of Cassandra’s answer made her sister jump.
Cassandra placed a hand on Amanda’s arm. “I did not mean to frighten you, but I can not possibly fall in love now, not when I finally have the chance to be free.” This was the thing she’d feared most. The name she had refused to give to the flutterings in her chest every time she was near Mark.
“In that case, forget I said anything.” Amanda lips curved upward a bit.
Cassandra had the horrible feeling her sister was laughing at her. “Tell me why you’ve come to London.”
Cassandra wished she didn’t have to tell her sister about the danger she was in, but she forced herself to be honest. “The people who killed Reddington wish to eliminate me as well.”
“What?” Color receded from Amanda’s cheeks.
“Someone—a groom from Reddington Abbey—shot at me. Fortunately, the bullet only grazed my temple.”
Amanda reached out and lifted her sister’s curls to reveal the healing wound. “You should not be out alone when you are in such danger. Where is Mr. Foxwood? Why isn’t he protecting you?”
Cassandra gave an exasperated sigh. “He has been doing nothing but protecting me since this happened. He tried to make me stay in Devon while he came to London, but I refused. He’s hired two men to follow me at all times. I’m sure if we look out front we will see them in the street.”
“Why would Reddington’s enemies be after you? What do they want?”
The last thing she wanted to do was tell her sister the ugly truth, but keeping Amanda in the dark would be unfair. That was exactly what Mark wanted to do to her. She gave Amanda a summary of Henry’s break in, the things he had revealed, and the conclusions she and Mark had made.
“So Mark is trying to find out about Reddington’s business interests?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, he and I are working to track down the killer.”
“It’s like one of the books you read. Mark is the hero whom the heroine would marry in the end.”
Cassandra groaned as she registered Amanda’s smug smile. She should never have let her sister borrow her Gothic novels. “I will pretend you never said that. And I would charge you to remember that while it may be an adventure, I would never have chosen it. For all that it may seem romantic, the people we must confront are as depraved as my husband was. I do not relish the thought of spending even a few moments in their company.”
Amanda frowned. “I’m sorry, Cassandra. It’s just that I so dislike London. I’m tired of dinners and balls and card-playing evenings. Any adventure, even one so dangerous as this, sounds exciting to me.”
Cassandra smiled. Her sister had made little attempt to befriend other debutantes during the Season, and Cassandra imagined she was both bored and lonely. If only Cassandra could thwart Reddington and receive her inheritance, then she would be able to invite Amanda to stay with her in the country where her sister would be happier.
“I understand, dear. I didn’t take offense.”
Amanda gave her a tight hug. “Please be careful. I know how stubborn you can be, but Mark’s right, you shouldn’t go out without someone to protect you.”
“I shan’t. I promise.” Cassandra stood, taking Amanda’s hands as she also rose. “I should be going.”
“What about Aunt Claire? What do I tell her when she asks about your visit?”
“Tell her the truth, but as little of it as you have to.”
“She will wish to hear everything, but she’s more trustworthy than I could have imagined. She won’t spill any secrets.”
Cassandra needed to thank her aunt later for all she’d done for Amanda. “Can you make her understand that I cannot call on her frequently and that she should not call on me?”
“Yes, I’ve learned over the last year that she can be very understanding and indulgent. I hope you will have more time to spend with her once you are safe.”
“I hope so too.”
They walked to the foyer and Sanders brought Cassandra her cloak. As she pulled it around herself, Amanda asked if she would be allowed to call on her sister.
“As much as I long to see you, I do not think it would be wise.”
“Perhaps not, but I am ever so eager to meet Mr. Foxwood. I need an opportunity to size up the man my sister has chosen as her companion.”
“In three months, we will cease to associate with each other. It is hardly worth your time to begin an acquaintance.”
Amanda raised her brow and smirked. “As you say. Still, I would like it very much.”
Cassandra shook her head. “I will see what I can do.”
Mark’s head still throbbed when he woke in the early afternoon. He’d downed quite a lot of whiskey the night before, but the splitting headache was more likely induced by Cassandra than his overindulgence.
Thank God his servants were trustworthy and stayed far from his rooms at night, or she would have embarrassed and exposed them both. When she was angry, she gave no thought to propriety. In fact, she behaved much as she did in the throes of passion.
She was open, honest, and thoroughly unconcerned with letting her raw emotions show. When they fought, he found it infuriating. But when she was laid out under him in all her naked glory, it sent sparks of lust exploding through his body. It also scared him half to death.
He’d never been with a woman who was so authentic. Until he met Cassandra, he’d been unaware that his other bed partners had been holding something back. Now he knew the truth, and he almost wished he didn’t.
A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes?”
A footman stepped into his room. “Your bath is ready, sir.”
“Thank you.” His room was still ice cold. If he hadn’t been desperate for a bath, he would have
hidden in the warm covers for a few more hours.
When he entered his dressing room, he smiled at the sight of the steaming water. The heat would improve his headache, and it would feel delightful to be clean again. In his haste to re-immerse himself in town life, he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly wash away the grime left by two days of travel.
When he and Cassandra arrived in London late the day before, his first priority had been to see Cassandra settled and give strict instructions to the men he had chosen to guard her, men sent to him by his solicitor whom he trusted implicitly. He’d have to remember to thank the man for performing yet another minor miracle. Once he knew Cassandra was well guarded, he set out to discover who among his acquaintances were in town.
Though he had been out of the city for a short time, he was out of contact with society. During his last months in town, he’d shunned all ton gatherings and immersed himself in a lifestyle that hardly befit his station. Of course it was in such places that rumors of Reddington’s most depraved activities had filtered down to him. He should be grateful for what knowledge he did possess.
He’d known he wouldn’t be able to move quickly. He could not afford to arouse suspicion with too many questions. While he’d learned nothing definite, he did have a few good leads. Most importantly, he’d run across Rhys Stanton, one of the few friends he had not dropped while attempting to rid himself of Katherine’s taint.
Stanton was well-situated to know about Reddington. He was also one of the handful of people Mark trusted. Stanton had always moved in faster circles than he. While Mark enjoyed spending an entertaining evening with a woman, particularly one who was quite skilled at giving pleasure, he had never gone in for the more exotic delights available to those who knew where to search.
Only with Katherine had he explored that world. She had taken him to a few country house parties more properly described as orgies. She’d insisted one of her friends, a young widow who was notorious for spreading her favors far and wide, had begged her to come. She’d giggled girlishly and acted as though she found it deliciously wicked.
Against his better judgment, he’d decided to indulge her. He was certain now that he wasn’t the first man Katherine had accompanied to such a party. She’d been perfectly willing to couple with other men while they were there. He’d struggled to convince her that sharing her did not appeal to him.
His bath was growing cold. After pulling himself from the water, he began to dress quickly, not wanting to be late for his appointment with Stanton. They’d spent hours drinking together the night before, but Mark had not wanted to ask much where others could listen. He also wanted to be sober when he questioned Stanton, lest he inadvertently reveal more than his friend needed to know.
When Mark entered his favorite club, Stanton was there leaving his coat and hat with the doorman. His skin had the sickly pallor of one severely hung-over. His paleness was amplified by its contrast to his thick, black hair and his ludicrously bright yellow waistcoat. Stanton insisted on dressing like a consummate dandy despite the fact Mark knew he was nothing of the kind.
Despite his haggard appearance, Stanton’s eyes were bright and sparkling like the sapphires women so often compared them to. And he was walking straight, not a mean feat for a man who six hours before had been completely unconscious.
He clapped his friend on the shoulder and said, “You’re looking better than I expected. I wasn’t at all sure you’d make it out of bed in time for our engagement.”
Stanton scowled. “That was dastardly of you to keep ordering drinks. You knew I’d feel obliged to keep up with you. I should have learned my lesson years ago. Why can’t I accept that you drink me under the table every time?”
Mark laughed. “For your own sake, you shouldn’t try to compete, but I would miss the entertainment.”
Stanton shook his head. “I’m sure you would. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about, and why wouldn’t you explain it last night?” He frowned. “You didn’t tell me, did you? I remember things up until dawn, but everything after that is a blur.”
“As well it should be. You insisted we walk outside to see if the sun felt as warm as it looked. Then you passed out on the sidewalk. I practically carried you to a hack and had to tip the driver an enormous sum to ensure he’d take you all the way to your door.”
“I didn’t make it much farther. I woke up on the floor in the foyer.” They laughed so hard Stanton had to hold his head and lean against the wall for support.
“Come. Let’s find a private spot.” Mark gestured toward the tables at the back of the dining room.
“I thought you meant to stay in the country at least until the Season began.”
“Too boring. I need more excitement. I’m hoping you will bring me along to some of the more exotic events you like to attend.”
Stanton stared at him with disbelief. “If I do, you’ll run into Katherine.”
Mark hated lying, but he thought of Cassandra and did what he had to do. “I’m tired of running. It hasn’t worked. Maybe confrontation is exactly what I need.”
Stanton sunk his teeth into his lower lip and stared at Mark for several long seconds. “You’re certain?”
“Absolutely.”
“If you insist. Maybe you do need something more adventurous. After a while, a man gets bored with the usual arrangements, grasping young widows, light skirts who never deliver as well as they promise.”
Mark laughed. “If even half the tales of your exploits are true, I’m sure you’ve had your share of run-ins with every type of woman in existence.”
Stanton smiled. “All my tales are true. How could you doubt it?”
How could he indeed? Mark had never lacked for female companionship, but he worked for it, flirting, playing the game, stalking until his prey gave in. Stanton, on the other hand, had only to enter a room and women flocked to him. Mark often feared he’d have to beat the women off his friend in order to safely extract him from a party.
Stanton slapped his hand down on the table then winced at the effect of the loud noise. “I’ve got just the thing for you. Langley is hosting an entertainment tonight. I’ll see that an invitation is sent to you straight away. You’re welcome to bring a woman with you, of course, if you’ve got one who would be so inclined. If not, I’m sure Langley will have provided some fine specimens for the gentlemen who are in need.”
“Perfect. Langley’s parties are legendary. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to attend one.” Thankfully, while he would be able to meet men who would have associated with Reddington, everything he’d heard indicated that Langley himself was an honorable man.
“Neither can I. I’m positive you’ll find it keenly arousing.”
Mark nodded. “I also wondered if you could recommend an establishment where one might contract a girl for something very special. Wasn’t Reddington connected to such a place?”
Mark waited for suspicion to cross his friend’s face, but all he saw was a devilish grin. “I’m not sure if Reddington has an interest in it or not, but the place you want is Miss Caroline’s. Ask for Simone and tell her I sent you. She’ll provide any service you require.” He winked at Mark then checked his pocket watch. “I’m afraid I have to shove off. I’ve been summoned to my aunt’s house.”
“Best of luck. She isn’t trying to marry you off again, is she?”
“I fear so, but I shall hold firm.” Stanton drew himself up and gave a stern look.
Mark laughed. “It’s good to see you again. I’ll be looking for the invitation to Langley’s affair.”
“I’ll be sure you have it,” Stanton said as he turned toward the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mark approached Cassandra’s house braced for another fight. His stomach churned at the thought of going to Langley’s party and the memories it would dredge up. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with Cassandra. But a fight was inevitable as soon as he informed her he was going to Langley’s tonight, alone.<
br />
He wanted to forget about Reddington and his depraved business arrangements, sweep Cassandra off her feet, and carry her upstairs to bed. He would not stop fucking her until he was too exhausted to move. Then they could order a hearty dinner tray, revive themselves, and start the process all over again.
As soon as Reddington’s killer was found, that was exactly what he intended to do. He thought they could keep up such a schedule for at least a week.
He let the knocker fall. A maid answered the door almost immediately.
“Your card, sir?”
“Lady Reddington is expecting me.” He pushed past her, calling for Cassandra.
“Sir! Sir!” the maid called, but she made no serious attempt to stop him.
Cassandra emerged from the drawing room, no doubt having heard the commotion. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. Mr. Foxwood is permitted entrance at any time.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” The young woman curtsied. “I didn’t realize—”
“It is of no consequence. You can hardly be blamed for his abominable rudeness.” She frowned at Mark.
“I see you are in your usual spirits,” he said.
Indecision showed on her face. Mark could imagine her thoughts. Did she answer him with a feisty retort, or would she try to be civil a little longer? She chose a middle path. “Whatever made you come barging in here like that?”
“I see no reason to exercise formalities when I come to see you.”
“Why are you in such a foul temper?”
“There is nothing wrong with my temper. I simply see no reason to present a card at your address.”
“Do refrain from frightening my staff in future.”
“I will do my best.”
She pursed her lips. “See that you do.”
She indicated that he should take a seat in the small drawing room, and then said, “I saw Mr. Jenkins, my solicitor. I had indeed remembered correctly. No matter what rumors circulate about us, I will still receive my inheritance if I am with child at the time Reddington’s death is announced.”
A Carnal Agreement (Regency Intrigue Book 1) Page 10