Impetuous

by Candace Camp

  * * *

  THEY LAY IN the dark for a long time, idly caressing each other and murmuring, saying nothing particularly meaningful, yet expressing everything important. Finally, with a sigh, Philip reminded her that she must get back to her room or else when the servants came in early the next morning, there would a firestorm of gossip. Reluctantly, Cassandra agreed. She put back on her nightgown, and Philip pulled on his heavy brocade dressing gown, knotting the sash around his waist.

  He opened the door to peer out. Satisfied that there was no one around to see them, he took Cassandra’s hand and led her out. They started quietly down the hall, but halfway there, Philip swept her up in his arms, grinning, and carried her the rest of the way. Cassandra curled her arm around his neck and leaned against him, blissfully happy with his silliness.

  When they reached Cassandra’s room, he set her down and opened the door. The hall sconces cast a faint light into the dark room—enough to reveal the figure of a man bent over one of the drawers in Cassandra’s dresser.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CASSANDRA CRIED OUT in surprise, and Philip rushed forward into the room. The figure raised his arm and something flew across the room, striking Philip in the head. Philip staggered, then started forward again, but the thief had bought himself enough time to run across the room and leap out the window.

  Philip ran to the window and peered down. “Damn! He went down the tree. The man’s like a monkey! He’s already on the ground.” He peered out at the tree. “I don’t think the thing would hold me.” He slammed his fist into the wall beside the window. “Bloody hell! I had him within reach!”

  “It’s not your fault.” Cassandra went to him and laid her hand on his arm comfortingly.

  “I suppose. But it’s so frustrating.” He sighed. “Well, let’s see what damage he’s done.”

  At that moment Aunt Ardis appeared in the doorway, a lamp in her hand. Joanna was right behind her, peering over her shoulder. They both stared at the room in shock.

  Cassandra, seeing her room for the first time in the light, also stared in dismay. All the drawers of her dresser had been pulled open and most of the contents dumped on the floor. One drawer had even been pulled out completely and lay on the floor, her chemises spilling from it. The bottles and jars on her dresser had been pushed aside, some of them overturned.

  “What happened?” Aunt Ardis gasped.

  “Someone broke into Cassandra’s room,” Philip replied grimly.

  “But whatever for? Cassandra has nothing worth stealing.”

  Joanna let out a moan and pushed past her mother into the room, her hand flying dramatically to her throat. “The thief must have gotten the wrong bedchamber. He must have meant to break into our rooms, Mother. To steal our jewels.” She tottered shakily forward, one hand going to her forehead, the other hand stretching out toward Philip. “Oh! I feel faint at the thought! Philip…help me.”

  “Sit down and put your head between your knees,” Philip told her callously, jerking forward a straight chair and shoving it under her, knocking it against the backs of her knees so that her legs gave way and Joanna sat down abruptly.

  Joanna glared up at him, but he had already turned back to Cassandra.

  “Perhaps you had better move in with your aunt for the rest of the night.”

  Cassandra shook her head. “There’s no need. I am sure he won’t be back tonight.”

  Aunt Ardis had turned her gaze from the wrecked room back to her niece and Sir Philip. She noticed that Cassandra was clad in nothing but her nightgown, and Philip was wearing his dressing gown and apparently nothing else, for a large swath of his bare chest was visible between the two sides of the robe. Her brows rushed together.

  “What is going on here?” she demanded in stentorian tones. “What are you doing in my niece’s bedchamber at this time of night, anyway, Sir Philip? It isn’t at all proper.”

  “It’s all right, Aunt Ardis,” Cassandra said quickly. “He, uh, just came because I shrieked when I discovered that a thief had been in my room.”

  Aunt Ardis looked doubtful. “I heard you shriek and came immediately to your aid. And he was already in here.” She turned a hard gaze on the nobleman. “I think you had best leave, sir.”

  “Aunt Ardis! Please…I assure you that there is no need—”

  Philip interrupted calmly, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Moulton.”

  “Don’t worry!” Aunt Ardis was in full dramatic steam now. “If word of this got out, it would mean the ruin of Cassandra’s reputation.”

  Philip’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, but it will not get out, now, will it, ma’am? Besides, there will be no damage to Cassandra’s reputation. She is going to be my wife.”

  “What!” Cassandra turned as stunned an expression on him as her aunt.

  Aunt Ardis began to splutter, seeing the tactical error she had made in the excitement of the moment. “Oh, no…I…Sir Philip, I am sure that is not necessary. The servants have not seen you here, and you can rest assured that Joanna and I will not breathe a word of this. It is, after all, my niece’s reputation.”

  “I am sure you would not tell anyone,” Philip agreed. “Nevertheless, Miss Verrere is my fiancée now.”

  “But you can’t! I mean, that’s absurd!”

  Philip raised an insufferably aristocratic eyebrow, looking at Aunt Ardis as if she were some sort of strange specimen he had just recently uncovered. “I, too, was most surprised that Cassandra accepted my proposal. It is quite obvious that I am not worthy of her. But, there you are, she is always a kind and generous lady.”

  “No! Wait!” Joanna cried, springing to her feet. She turned toward her mother desperately. “Mother! Do something! He can’t marry Cassandra!”

  “I assure you, Miss Moulton, I can. And I will.”

  “But…but…” She turned back to him, opening her eyes wide in a wounded expression. “But what about me?”

  “I am sure Miss Verrere will ask you to be an attendant at our wedding. Won’t you, Cassandra, dear?”

  Cassandra could not stifle a giggle at her cousin’s horrified expression. “Of course, Joanna,” she told her sweetly. “You must be my bridesmaid. After all, it was you and Aunt Ardis who brought Sir Philip and me together.”

  Aunt Ardis made a choking noise. “Cassandra, wait… consider…you cannot. Sir Philip, you cannot have thought! Cassandra is penniless.”

  “I have no need of a wealthy wife,” Philip responded blandly. “I am sure you will be happy to know that Cassandra’s love is more than enough treasure for me.”

  Cassandra had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep down a hoot of laughter at his syrupy words. Philip shot her a most unloverlike look.

  “But there are her brothers and sister, too. Have you thought about the burden of raising them?”

  “I am quite fond of children.”

  “But you can’t!” Joanna shrieked at Cassandra, stamping her foot. “You can’t marry him! You can’t—you can’t get married before me!”

  This last thought was apparently too much for her beleaguered nerves, for Joanna turned and ran from the room. An instant later they heard her door slam shut. Aunt Ardis gaped at them for a moment, her mouth opening and closing like that of a landed fish. Then she turned and hurried after her daughter.

  Cassandra gazed after her aunt for a moment, laughter bubbling up from her throat. She was, she thought, filled with a most unworthy sense of triumph. Behind her, Philip lit a lamp to survey the damage.

  Cassandra turned around and gasped. She was looking not at the mess on the floor but at Philip. For the first time she saw his face in full lamplight. “Philip! You are injured!”

  She went to him quickly, pushing back the hair that had fallen down over his forehead and exposing the large red spot, already beginning to show a bruise, c
entered by a jagged cut. A line of blood had oozed down the side of his face from the cut.

  “Yes,” Philip responded almost casually. “He hit me full force with that little box.” He grimaced. “I feel like a fool, letting him get away like that.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. We were unprepared to find a thief in the room, after all. And while your head may be hard, I fear it is not impervious to flying objects.”

  He mustered a small smile at her comment, and she continued, “Here. Sit down on the bed and let me tend to that.”

  “It’s nothing. What is important is the map. I am sure that is what he was after. Why else enter this particular room?”

  Cassandra glanced over at the armoire. “Oh, it’s fine.”

  She walked to the large cabinet and opened it, sifting rapidly through her dresses until she found the right one. She dug down into a pocket and pulled out the map, which she waved at Philip, then returned to its hiding place.

  “Odd place for safekeeping.”

  “It’s easy and always at hand, and not the first place anyone would think to look, as you can see.” She gestured toward the ransacked room. “Had I thought anyone was going to try to steal it, I suppose I might have been more careful and put it for safekeeping in that very box he threw at you.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it is only a copy. I have another one at Haverly House, and the original is at home.”

  “Still, I am very glad that our thief didn’t get his hands on it.”

  Cassandra went about the business of pouring water into the wash basin and wetting a rag. She came back to Philip and began to clean his wound. “Did you get a look at him?”

  He shook his head regretfully. “No. It was too dark, and then he knocked me silly with that box. He was tall, but slight, that’s about all I could see of him.”

  Cassandra nodded. “I couldn’t see him, either. I wish the light had been better.”

  “My money is still on it being your American cousin—or a burglar hired by him to get the map.”

  Cassandra sighed. “Except that he went back to the United States.”

  “Or so he told you.”

  “You always say that.”

  “Well, you have only his word for it,” he argued mildly, then winced. “Ow! I don’t think you are the future Florence Nightingale.”

  “What? Oh. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere. There. It looks clean enough. I am afraid that is all I can do for it. You really need a plaster.”

  He shrugged. “If it’s not your Mr. Miller, my dear, then who is it? I have always thought your aunt would fit well in the role of villainess.”

  Cassandra smiled.

  “Let’s see, who else? Your Mr. Simons, perhaps?”

  Cassandra chuckled at the thought of the chubby, avuncular book dealer engaging in such shenanigans. “Well, I’m certain he wasn’t the one climbing in and out my window.”

  “Thank God you were not in here when he did,” Philip said in a heartfelt voice. “Promise me that from now on you will close and lock your window at night. Engaged we may be, but I think it would be too shocking for me to camp out in your room every night to make sure you are safe.”

  “Philip…” Cassandra turned toward him, distracted from the subject of their burglar’s identity. “I want to talk to you about that.”

  “Dates and clothes and such? I leave all that sort of thing up to you, my dear. Mother and Grandmother no doubt will want to have a say, but—”

  “That’s not what I meant. There really is no need for you to say we are engaged. It was very kind of you to try to protect me, but I can assure you that Aunt Ardis will not speak of this.”

  “Cassandra!” Philip opened his eyes wide, looking shocked. “I do believe you are trying to jilt me. And here we are, engaged for scarcely an hour.” He tsk-tsked. “Oh, the callousness of it.”

  “Philip! You know what I meant. There is no need for us to be married. My reputation will be perfectly all right.”

  “Then your intention is to use me and toss me aside?” he asked with mock indignation.

  Cassandra ground her teeth in irritation. “Would you please be serious?”

  “Ah, but I am serious. You are the one who is thinking frivolously. We are now engaged, and there is nothing to be done about it.”

  “Don’t I have anything to say in the matter?”

  “Knowing you, I am quite certain that you will have a great deal to say,” Philip responded with a gleam of humor in his eyes. “However, it does not change the fact that marriage is the only option. If you will not think of your own reputation, my dear, consider mine.”

  Cassandra fought down a desire to hit him. Philip’s lighthearted quips were blocking her attempts to do the right thing far better than a straightforward argument would. She was certain he knew that. It was most frustrating, especially given the fact that her own heart was not in her offer. The idea of marrying Philip had set up a warm glow in her chest; she realized that it was what she wanted more than anything else, the Spanish dowry included. It made it quite difficult to be noble and excuse Philip from his impetuous offer to save her reputation. However, she did not want to marry him merely because he felt a sense of responsibility. She wanted love from Philip, not duty.

  With a sigh, she gave up for the moment. She would try again tomorrow to make him see reason. Perhaps after a few hours’ consideration he would see what he was throwing away by tying himself to her.

  “Oh, go to bed.” She gestured toward the door.

  “An excellent suggestion. One that I trust you will follow, also.” He strode to the window and pulled it down, locking it with an emphatic click. He did the same to her other window, then turned back to her. “Are you certain that you don’t want to sleep in your aunt’s or Joanna’s room tonight?”

  “Don’t be absurd. Here I’d have only a thief to contend with. If I slept with either one of them tonight, I would probably be murdered in my bed.”

  He chuckled and left the room, after a lengthy kiss that left Cassandra breathless and wondering why she had been so foolish as to protest their marriage. She cleaned up her room, folding her clothes and putting them back into the drawers, then crawled into her bed, where she fell promptly asleep and dreamed not of thieves and ransacked rooms but of wedding veils and rings.

  * * *

  “I CANNOT BELIEVE that you would do this to me!” Aunt Ardis moaned. “Your own flesh and blood. After all I have done for you! I have nourished a snake in my bosom.”

  “Exactly what have I done to you?” Cassandra asked pragmatically. Her aunt had been carrying on for ten minutes like this, from the moment she and Joanna had walked into the sitting room this morning. This was the first time that Cassandra had been able to get a word in.

  “What have you done!” Joanna almost screeched, bouncing up from her chair. “You stole Sir Philip from me!”

  “Stole him? Joanna, you talk as if Sir Philip were some knickknack or a piece of furniture. You do not own him.”

  “He was interested in me first!”

  “For a day or so,” Cassandra replied agreeably. “Until he found out your plans to capture him.”

  “Hah! Miss High-and-Mighty! As if you didn’t do exactly the same thing!”

  Her cousin’s words stung. Cassandra could think of nothing to say.

  “There!” Joanna crowed. “You see! I’m right.”

  “It is a far different situation,” Cassandra said fiercely. “Besides, it is none of your business.”

  “None of my business? When he was mine to begin with?”

  “He was never yours!”

  “I took you into my house.” Aunt Ardis shook her head mournfully. “I fed you and clothed you. I even took you with us to Lady Arrabeck’s house party—all because I felt sorry for you. And look how you repaid me.�
��

  Cassandra slammed her fist down onto the arm of the chair and jumped to her feet. “Enough! I have had enough of this! First of all, you did not take us into your house and clothe and feed us. My uncle, my mother’s brother, did that. I am sure if it had been left up to you, my brothers and sister and I would all be in the workhouse by now. Secondly, you showed no kindness taking me to that party. You only wanted another chaperon for Joanna and a foil for her beauty. And last, but not least, I did not steal Sir Philip from Joanna. No one could do that, because he did not have the slightest interest in her. He can barely stand to be in the same room with her, and anyone with even the slightest bit of intelligence would have realized that. How could either of you possibly think he was interested in her when he avoided her presence at every opportunity?”

  The other two women gaped at Cassandra, dumbfounded.

  “Sir Philip asked me to marry him,” Cassandra continued, gliding over the exact truth, “and that is what I intend to do. There is nothing you can say or do that will change that. The only thing you can do, what you are doing right now, is to infuriate Sir Philip and me so much that you will never receive another invitation to Haverly House. You have the prospect of being related to Lady Neville, and that means entrée into circles full of eligible bachelors. If you have any sense, you will seize the opportunity that offers instead of griping over the loss of something you never had to begin with!”

  “Bravo, my dear!”

  Cassandra whirled to find Sir Philip standing in the doorway, lightly clapping his hands as if at a play, a sardonic grin on his face. She colored to the roots of her hair.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You are quite accurate.” He nodded toward Aunt Ardis and Joanna. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have something I wish to discuss with my future wife. My dear?”

  He offered his arm to her, and Cassandra took it gladly, letting him escort her from the room and down the hall to his study.