Impetuous

by Candace Camp

  “The children?” Aunt Ardis’s voice rose uncontrollably. “Sir, you must be joking. The children are far too young.”

  “Twelve and fourteen, I believe. Just the right age to enjoy a journey. I believe I was about that age the first time my parents took me to London.”

  Cassandra’s eyes danced with laughter at her aunt’s outraged expression, and she had to press her lips together tightly to keep from chuckling.

  “But, Sir Philip, you cannot have thought—I—well, there simply will not be enough room in the carriage for so many people,” Aunt Ardis argued gamely. “Six of us, and children are so restless and noisy. My nerves could not bear it.”

  “Of course not,” he replied soothingly. “I would not put you out for the world, madam. You and Miss Moulton shall have your carriage to yourselves. I have my carriage with me, and the Verreres may travel in it. I, of course, shall ride.”

  Aunt Ardis gazed at him, flummoxed.

  “Very good, then. It is all arranged,” he concluded breezily, taking her silence for consent. “When shall we leave, ladies? Tomorrow morning?”

  “Tomorrow!” Aunt Ardis squawked. “We cannot possibly— Oh, I see. You are teasing us poor women.” She tittered and coquettishly waggled her finger at him. “What a naughty thing to do. You know we cannot possibly be ready for three days at least.”

  Cassandra ground her teeth. It was bad enough that her aunt had wormed her way into coming with her on this trip and bringing Joanna, too, but to delay the trip when Cassandra was impatient to start was simply too much for her.

  “Oh, no, aunt, it won’t take so long. Not if I help you and Cousin Joanna.” She knew that she would have to perform all the practical chores necessary to get the two women on the road anyway. Joanna and her aunt would do little but impede matters by changing their minds about what clothes and shoes to take. “I am sure that we can leave by day after tomorrow.”

  “Excellent!” Sir Philip beamed at her aunt. “I shall look forward to it. Now, ladies, if you will excuse me, I have preparations of my own to make.” He did not add that his primary preparation would be to dash off a quick message to his mother to expect the imminent arrival of six complete strangers for an indefinite stay—and to inform his grandmother that she had acquired a past friend whose grandchildren she wished to meet.

  Sir Philip was barely out the door before Joanna pounced on Cassandra. “Why did he invite you! What did you do? How did you make him invite you?”

  “I didn’t make him,” Cassandra responded mildly. “It had nothing to do with me. As you heard, it is all because of my grandmother knowing his.”

  “I never heard that,” Aunt Ardis mused suspiciously. “Whoever heard of a Neville being friends with a Verrere? Everyone knows they don’t associate—why, I cannot imagine, except that the Verreres were always such odd ducks.”

  Cassandra, ignoring the slight to her family, said airily, “That was all so long ago that I am sure it does not matter anymore. Besides, I believe my grandmother must have known Lady Neville before she married into the Verreres. That is probably why the woman is so eager to see us. She probably lost contact with Grandmama after the two of them married, and she wants to hear about her life.”

  Aunt Ardis narrowed her eyes, looking unconvinced. “Why did you never tell me about this friendship?”

  “Truthfully, Aunt, I did not know about it until Sir Philip told me this afternoon.” And, Cassandra added to herself, she truly wished that Sir Philip had told her what lie he intended to tell before he did it. “I had no idea that Grandmama was friends with a Neville—but then, of course, it is not something she would have talked about in our family.”

  “It sounds very fishy to me.”

  “Why would Sir Philip make up such a story?” Cassandra asked innocently. “I cannot imagine any other reason for him to invite my family to Haverly House.”

  “That is true.” However, her aunt’s expression was still uneasy.

  Cassandra decided to make her exit as quickly as she could before her aunt asked any more difficult questions. With a smile and a polite “Excuse me,” she left the room and hurried upstairs to break the news to her family.

  * * *

  CASSANDRA FOLDED THE last of her dresses and laid it in the trunk, closing the lid with a tired sigh. After talking to her siblings—who had been predictably excited about the discovery of the long-sought-after letter and almost equally thrilled at the prospect of taking a trip to Sir Philip’s home—she had spent the rest of the day preparing like mad for the trip. As well as her own packing, she had had to supervise Olivia’s and the twins’ packing, especially the boys, for they were as likely as not to include cricket bats and butterfly collections and leave out such mundane things as underclothes. She also had to leave instructions regarding the household chores while they were gone and oversee the servants’ packing of her aunt’s and cousin’s things, a task that was made extremely difficult by Joanna’s tendency to change her mind every few minutes about which dresses she should take. Each change of gown, of course, necessitated a complete change of shoes and accessories, as well, and, as always, Joanna could not bear to leave any of her darling hats behind. It took subtlety, patience and a certain ruthlessness to cut the number of hatboxes down to three.

  Even though Cassandra had now finished her own packing, she had a few other tasks to complete before she went to bed. First of all, she had to make copies of the old map they had found today. She was afraid not only of losing the precious document, but of the fragile paper falling apart at the creases, as it was already showing signs of doing. It would destroy the map to continue to fold and unfold it as she was sure they would do as they tried to make sense of it. So she intended to lay a thin sheet of paper over the ancient map and trace the information on it.

  Just as she started across the room to lock her door, however, she was started by a sharp rap on it. The next moment the door was opened without waiting for her to respond, and her aunt strode in.

  Aunt Ardis was an imposing sight. Wrapped around by a quilted satin robe, she looked even wider than usual, reminding Cassandra of a rather large blue pigeon. Her face was covered with a cream that gave it a greasy shine, and her hair was done up in curling rags all over, so that with every movement of her head, ragged ribbons danced all about her face. The crowning touch was a long cotton scarf, which she had run under her jaw and tied at the top of her head. It was a remedy for a double chin which she had heard about from one of her friends, and it had the result of making it difficult for her to move her jaw, so that she seemed to be talking through clenched teeth the whole time.

  “Aunt Ardis.” Cassandra was surprised to see her aunt up this late. “Can I help you?”

  “No, my dear,” Aunt Ardis replied, lockjawed and nasal. “I have come to help you.”

  “To help me?” Cassandra gazed at the older woman in some amazement. “In what way?”

  “You are like a daughter to me, Cassandra. I am sure you realize that.”

  Cassandra gave a noncommittal murmur as she led her aunt toward the single chair in her room. Cassandra dragged the stool from her vanity table over beside the chair and sat down upon it.

  “Now, I have only your best interests at heart, my dear,” Aunt Ardis began.

  Cassandra’s heart sank. Was her aunt going to forbid her to go to Haverly House after all?

  “I must warn you about Sir Philip.”

  Her statement was so unexpected that Cassandra could only stare at her. Could Aunt Ardis somehow have found out about the maps? The treasure? Was she telling her that Sir Philip would betray her? “What do you mean? Warn me about what?”

  “You may not be young anymore, Cassandra, but I know that you are not experienced in the ways of the world. You don’t realize what a man like Sir Philip is after.”

  It took another moment bef
ore Cassandra finally realized the import of her aunt’s words. She was not talking about the treasure at all! “Are you telling me that Sir Philip is a libertine?”

  Aunt Ardis nodded her head. “Exactly. I know that normally you are a most sensible girl, but a man like Sir Philip—handsome, charming, monied—well, he could turn anyone’s head.”

  Cassandra could not keep a blush from rising into her face, and inwardly she cursed her fair skin that showed every flush. Her aunt would now be bound to think that she had feelings for Sir Philip. “I assure you, I do not consider him in any light other than a…a friend.”

  The older woman’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, but she said only, “I hope that is true. Sir Philip has paid you some small attentions while he has been here, and I know how a young girl who is not used to such things can have her head turned by them.”

  “A wallflower like me, you mean.” Cassandra set her jaw.

  “Heavens, no, you are a lovely young girl, but you had only that one season, and your poor dear papa, God rest his soul, did raise you so oddly, well, it wasn’t to be expected that you would take. All I am saying is that with your lack of experience, you may tend to make more out of the blandishments that Sir Philip may have said or exaggerate the meaning of a compliment from him.”

  “I have no illusions on that score,” Cassandra replied flatly. “I do not believe that Sir Philip has any affection for me. You may rest secure in that knowledge.”

  “I was not speaking of affection.” Aunt Ardis’s eyes bored into Cassandra’s. “Some men will pursue a woman not out of affection, but only in the hopes that he will receive certain favors from her. They will dally with her, trifle with her affections, when they have no intention of offering her anything honorable.”

  “And Sir Philip is that sort?”

  “I have heard rumors….”

  “Rumors? You know nothing for a fact?”

  “When you hear the same rumor enough times from enough sources, I think that there can be little doubt of the truth behind it. People say that he keeps a mistress in town.”

  “Many men do that,” Cassandra replied defensively. “He is not married, after all.”

  “True. But I have heard that he pursues women assiduously, that he is a man driven by his lower appetites. At Lady Arrabeck’s, I even heard—” She lowered her voice portentously. “I heard he keeps a home for his by-blows right there by Haverly House.”

  “What!” Cassandra stared. “You cannot be serious.”

  Aunt Ardis nodded so vigorously that the strips of rags all over her head danced. “I am. I could not believe it, either. Too bold, I thought. Too flouting of convention. I said so, but Lady Arrabeck said not a word to deny it. Mrs. Livenham, who told me, swore that it was true. She says he has a whole houseful of illegitimate children, with a nurse to look after them. She said that there were at least six or seven of them.”

  “Seven!”

  “Yes.” Aunt Ardis looked smug, for she had obviously struck a nerve. “If a man has that many babes born on the wrong side of the blanket whom he acknowledges as his and even supports, then you know that there must be many others, too. And it is quite clear that the unfortunate mothers are not all actresses and such that he keeps as mistresses. Wicked women know how to keep those things from happening, I’ve heard, and as for the married women he sees, well, they would pass them off as their husbands’ children. That means that most of those babes came from honest young girls like yourself, whom he seduced and ruined.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Cassandra said defiantly. “Perhaps you are right that he is a man who consorts with women of the night, but I cannot believe that he is a villain who sets out to ruin innocent young girls!”

  “Ah…” Aunt Ardis shook her head with sorrow. “Many a devil has worn the face of an angel.”

  “He does not try particularly to please,” Cassandra argued. “He is not all smooth words. Why, he and I quarrel half the time.” But she could not help but think of the way he had kissed her, the way his hands had swept expertly over her body, arousing in her feelings that previously she had never even realized existed. Was his touch so pleasurable, his kiss so heady, because he had perfected the art on so many other young women? The Lord knew that her aunt was right when she said that Cassandra had little experience in such things.

  Cassandra frowned. “I wonder, then, if he is such a rake and a libertine, that you encourage your own daughter to associate with him! Aren’t you afraid that he will try to seduce her, too?”

  Aunt Ardis let out a smug little laugh. “There is a world of difference between your situation and that of Joanna. Joanna is a young girl, quite marriageable, who stands to inherit a good portion. When a man like Sir Philip shows interest in her, he knows that the end result must be marriage. Even if he seduced her, her family would force him to marry her.”

  “As you tried to force him at Lady Arrabeck’s party.”

  “I don’t know where you get such absurd ideas. I would never put Joanna in a compromising position with any man. When a girl is, well, getting older, almost a spinster, one might say, as you are, and when, in addition, she has no particular beauty and no fortune at all, it must be clear that such a catch as Sir Philip Neville is not interested in marrying her. Especially when you consider the fact that you have two penniless brothers and a sister to raise—no man could want to take on that sort of burden. You are exactly the sort of girl upon which such men prey.”

  Cassandra jumped to her feet, drawing herself up to her full height. Her eyes flashed. “I am so glad to hear your opinion of me! It confirms everything I thought about you. You may rest assured that Sir Philip has no interest in me, for seduction or marriage or anything else! Nor have I any interest in him, except as one of the few intelligent conversationalists I have been around since we moved to this house. I refuse to believe that he callously ruins young women, but even if it were true, I would not be caught in that web! As for my brothers and sister, not everyone considers bright, entertaining children a burden. Sir Philip obviously likes them, since he invited them to visit his house, something which, I might add, he did not ask you or Joanna!”

  “Well! I never heard of such a thing!” The older woman’s face flushed a dull red, and she pushed herself to her feet. “After all that I have done for you, to have the gall to speak to me in that tone! When I was only trying to save you from disgrace.”

  “I was only speaking the truth.”

  “I’ll tell you this—you will never catch a husband as long as you can control your tongue no better than this!”

  “I have no wish to ‘catch’ a husband who cannot stand to hear the truth.”

  The two women glared at each other. Aunt Ardis marched past Cassandra and opened the door. “I shall expect an apology in the morning,” she said, not looking back at her niece, and stalked out, slamming the door behind her.

  “Hah!” Cassandra made a face at the blank door. She knew she would apologize, of course. However annoying and venal her aunt might be, she was still an older relative and therefore deserving of courtesy. But the apology would indeed have to wait until the next morning. Right now Cassandra was too seething with rage at her aunt’s clumsy warning.

  It wasn’t true. Cassandra was certain that Sir Philip was not so base a man. She did not believe that he went about the country leaving a trail of poor seduced maidens in his wake. Perhaps he was a man of great appetite. Heat stabbed her abdomen at the memory of her own experience with that appetite. But he was not wicked. He would not take his pleasure at the considerable expense of another.

  Would he?

  She could not help but think of the other night, when he had kissed her. Sir Philip’s actions certainly had not been those of a gentleman. What would have happened if Chumley had not happened along? There had been no indication that Sir Philip would have stopped.

&
nbsp; And what about the other times? She had to admit that Sir Philip’s interactions with her had been disturbingly sexual. Did that mean he intended to seduce and abandon her? Her aunt was right in saying that she knew little about men. Everything women said about men seemed to indicate that men pursued a woman for either honorable love or dishonorable sex, and there was a great chasm between the two. As lowering as her aunt’s blunt assessment of her was, Cassandra was honest enough to admit that it, too, was true: a spinster possessed of neither fortune nor a beautiful face. It was not the description of a woman a man would pursue for marriage.

  It followed then that if Sir Philip was interested in her personally, he was interested in her only for sex. Was he that callous? That cruel? Was he the sort of man who would ruin a woman’s reputation for his own pleasure?

  Cassandra sighed. She could not believe Sir Philip was uncaring and deceitful. He did not talk with her and laugh with her, acting as if he enjoyed her company, because he was trying to lure her into his bed.

  Yet she could not still the small, insidious voice inside her head that kept asking: Why else would he be interested in her?

  CHAPTER TEN

  CASSANDRA LEANED HER head back against the richly stuffed leather squab of the carriage and sighed with pleasure. She had slept little the past two nights, and the entire day yesterday had been one long trial. But she had finally gotten through it, even apologizing dutifully to her aunt this morning for what she had said to her the night before. The atmosphere between them had remained stiff and unpleasant, but at least Aunt Ardis had been willing to start out on the journey to Haverly House.

  Her aunt, of course, had tried every stratagem to get Sir Philip to ride in the Moulton carriage with her and Joanna, but he had politely and smilingly refused, saying that he preferred to ride his horse. It was only his riding outside either of the carriages that had made it at all acceptable to Aunt Ardis. Had he ridden in his own carriage with Cassandra and her family, Cassandra was sure that her aunt would have been red with apoplexy.