Almost Perfect (13 page)

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. Damn Devanney. He had no right to enjoy this so much.

It was just as well that they were fleeing to America. Cassie left the drawing room, knowing her connection to the class of people she considered her own had been irrevocably severed. Oh, they might clap and laud her tonight, but Duchess Eleanor would see to it that everyone who was anyone knew what Cassie had done. Soon, there wouldn’t be a member of the ton who wouldn’t consider her beneath their notice and agree with the duchess that she was riffraff.

Cassie started up the stairs to the bedchambers, the footman carrying her newly won wealth a bare flight ahead of her. Philana followed so closely behind that Cassie could hear her aunt’s angry breathing. Philana had started glowering from the moment they left the drawing room.

Her aunt’s upset only made Cassie’s spirits sag all the worse. The time had come to tell Philana everything. It was a chore she didn’t much want to face.

In the corridor candles ensconced in mirrored holders threw their light down onto the runner that covered the floor, driving the skulking shadows against the baseboards and ornate crown molding. The night-blackened arch of the window loomed at the corridor’s end. The good weather of the morning had given way to Scotland’s usual rain, droplets pattering against the glass.

Ahead of them light streamed out of Cassie’s open chamber door. The footman exited, his gold-trimmed, blue satin coat and breeches shone in the light. The stark white of his powdered wig framed a freckled face. He passed Cassie and Philana without offering so much as a glance. When he was gone Philana caught Cassie by the elbow, stopping her just outside her door.

“What were you thinking?” she demanded. “I thought you intended to be subtle at the tables. And for heaven’s sake, what made you decide to use Lord Graceton of all men? You had to know that a gamester like him would never accept your skill for what it is. Almost four hundred pounds will serve you well for the now, but you’ll never again use that skill of yours. Not in any decent establishment.”

“I know that,” she replied, her mouth twisting sadly. “But then, I won’t ever again be playing cards in England.”

“You surely won’t,” Philana retorted, lifting a finger to scold. She caught herself, frowning. “What do you mean, never again in England?”

Cassie only took Philana by the arm and led her into the bedchamber. Eliza had a branch of candles set on the washstand, the tapers offering light enough to reveal the richness of the blue and red bedcurtains as well as the deep mahogany color of the bedposts. Her golden hair glowed as brightly as the flame as she leaned over Cassie’s trunk. She straightened as they entered, yet holding a stack of nightgowns clutched close to her breast.

Philana’s eyes widened as she took in the trunk, the clothes folded on the bed’s end, and Eliza’s waiting satchel, in which she’d carry a change of clothes and her overnight needs. “Cassie, what’s happening?”

Cassie closed the door and led Philana to the small chair. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

Eliza hurried to stand alongside Cassie, still holding the nightclothes, fiddling with a length of lace that trimmed a garment’s sleeve. Fear hid in the dark hollows beneath her eyes. “Cassie, he’s come after us so swiftly. How did he find us?”

Cassie offered her a half-hearted smiled. “He has the invitation. I dropped it when I picked up the urn,” she said.

“What urn?” Philana demanded, her gaze as steely as her gray gown. “Who’s come after you? Why are you packing?”

Eliza turned to her. “Aunt Philana, Papa did a terrible thing before we left London to come here. He staked me in a game of cards with Lord Bucksden. If he’d won he would have gained three thousand pounds. Unfortunately, he lost, which meant I was to become the earl’s mistress.

“He did what!” Philana fair levitated from her chair, so great was her outrage. Her face flushed bright red. “Why that base dastard! How dare he use his daughter in such a foul way!”

Eliza spoke over Philana. “The only thing that stopped the earl from either taking me or fulfilling his threat to drive us into the poor house was Cassie. She hit him with our Wedgwood urn. We thought she’d killed him.”

Philana collapsed back into the chair, gasping for air. She looked as gray in this instant as she’d been red in the last. She stared at Cassie.

“You didn’t,” she gasped. “Kill him, I mean.”

“He looked dead when we left him on our drawing room floor,” Cassie replied in a tiny voice, the sound of the urn exploding against Lord Bucksden’s head reverberated out of her memory. Her stomach gave a sick buck.

“Not dead enough,” Eliza said, her voice hard beyond her years. “Tonight, I overheard Squire Kerr and Colonel Egremont laughing as Mr. Percy described having seen the earl in Hawick with his head bandaged and his eyes blackened.”

Eliza’s bravado faded. Fear flashed in her eyes. “Oh Cassie, Lord Bucksden must be in a frenzy to revenge himself on us.” As if she couldn’t bear to think about this, Eliza whirled, hurrying back to the trunk and her packing.

“My stars,” Philana said. Frowning, she jerked her shawl around her shoulders. “All I can say is that it’s a shame you failed, Cassie. If ever there’s a man who deserves murdering it’s Lord Bucksden.”

“At the time it seemed that way to me as well,” Cassie murmured. “I’m only grateful that he hasn’t yet knocked on Lord Ryecroft’s door and demanded that Papa fulfill his wager. For the life of me I cannot understand why he hasn’t. Perhaps he waits for his injuries to heal, not wanting to make a spectacle of himself?”

Her comment teased a breath of laughter from Philana. “I think we need look no further for your reason than Lord Graceton. Three years ago Lady Graceton let Lord Bucksden into her bed, something Lord Graceton didn’t accept with any grace that some husbands do. It’s rumored that he intends to call out Lord Bucksden when next they meet. If your attack rendered the earl at all unsure of his dueling skills, then I can understand his wanting to keep his distance. He only duels when he’s certain he will win.”

A tiny sound escaped Cassie. She dropped to sit on the end of the bed. What irony. While Lucien had been trying to destroy her tonight, he had also provided her with a shield from Lord Bucksden.

Philana leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Why didn’t you tell me this when you first arrived?” Hurt filled her voice and her gaze.

“How could I?” Cassie replied, taking Philana’s hands. “I thought Lord Bucksden was dead and it would be the Bow Street Runners who’d come chasing us. I didn’t want them accusing you of knowingly harboring a murderess.”

Philana nodded slowly, accepting that as a sensible excuse. “So you leave tonight. Where is it you go? And why do you think Lord Bucksden can no longer hurt you once you arrive?”

“To America,” Cassie answered.

With a sharp draw of breath Philana tore her hands from Cassie’s. She blanched, looking desolate and every one of her years. “America!” she cried in an old woman’s voice, falling back into the chair’s embrace. “Why not Italy?”

“Because Papa has cousins in the American city of Boston,” Eliza explained, straightening above the trunk and speaking when Cassie didn’t.

All Cassie wanted was to crawl beneath her bedclothes, close her eyes and sleep forever. “What choice have we? We must put as much distance as possible between us and what happened here. Lord Bucksden no longer comes just to claim what he won from Papa, although I don’t doubt he still wants Eliza. He’ll be wanting to ruin us even more completely than Papa has already done. We must depart before he learns that you are our patron, Philana. I won’t have the earl harming you because you protect us.”

Philana drew a shattered breath. Tears gleamed in her eyes. The corners of her lips tried to lift. “That’s my sweet Cassie, always thinking of another. Whatever shall I do without your visits? With you in America our letters will be far less frequent I fear.”

Already missing Philana, Cassie did her best to smile. “I cannot bear it,” she replied, feeling as desolate and lonely as Philana looked.

There was a tap on the door. Her nerves on edge, Cassie started. Eliza answered it. Roland, his neckcloth untied and waistcoat buttons undone, stepped inside, closing the door after him. His expression was resolute, something that Cassie had never before seen on his face.

Philana exploded from her chair, her fists clenched and her face alive in outrage. “How dare show your face here, sir!” she almost shouted. Both Eliza and Cassie hushed her.

“I won’t be silenced,” she snapped. “This man isn’t fit to live. He certainly isn’t fit to be any woman’s father.”

There was no sign of anger on Roland’s round face. Neither was there shame. He glanced at his children when they again tried to silence Philana.

“Don’t stop her, girls. Lady Forster is exactly right,” he said in calm acceptance of her judgment. “I am fit for nothing. I never have been. I certainly don’t deserve daughters as good as either of you. If it’s any consolation, Lady Forster, know that I hate myself more than you can ever do.”

That stole Philana’s steam. Huffing into silence, she settled for crossing her arms and glaring at him. Roland looked at Cassie.

“How much did you come away with?” he asked.

“One eighty in coin, plus a promise from Lord Ryecroft for another one eighty. I fear I emptied Ryecroft’s treasury of their ready cash,” Cassie replied with a crooked smile.

Roland beamed. “’Pon rep, Cassie! You did better than I ever thought. Would that we had time enough to give Lord Ryecroft a chance to redeem his chit. It would be nice to go with something extra in our purses. But then, we’ll have the coach and horses to sell in Edinburgh before we set sail. Old as that coach is it’s still worth something.” He nodded to himself. Roland had inherited their vehicle from his father. “The horses are good solid beasts. That’ll be something.”

Eliza frowned at him. “Don’t we have time to wait for Lord Ryecroft to pay us? Aunt Philana says Lord Bucksden won’t come to Ryecroft Castle as long as Lord Graceton is here. I’m sure he could send someone to his bank on the morrow.”

“Who knows if they’ll have enough in coin at any bank,” Roland retorted, “and we can’t take notes. There’s a lot of folk who don’t trust ‘em. No, we can’t afford to wait. We leave tonight when the house grows quiet. By dawn we’ll be well on our way to Edinburgh with no one here the wiser as to which direction we went.”

Cassie hadn’t thought about making a secret of their leaving, but it made sense. The less information they left behind them the harder it would be for Bucksden to locate them.

“But that cannot work,” Eliza protested. “We need servants to carry down our trunks and grooms to harness our horses.”

Philana opened her arms. Her face filled with her need to save the nieces she loved from the clutches of a debauched and dangerous earl. “I have a way to make your departure both obvious and secret at the same instant, Sir Roland.”

With a fond but pained smile Philana looked at Cassie. “Shame on you, you hussy. Your display of prowess at the card table has made me terribly ill and no longer able to face my neighbors. I must immediately take you and your family back to Ettrick House.”

Roland’s eyes narrowed. His pudgy jaw firmed. “Here now, I won’t have you talking to my daughter that way. She can’t help what she does at the card table.”

Philana laughed, the sound harsh and not at all amused. “Too late, Sir Roland. No matter what you do or say, you’ll never be a father to these girls.”

She laid a hand on Cassie shoulder. “I shall send a note with my apologies and explanation to Lord Ryecroft just before we leave. Everyone will know exactly where you’ve gone or at least they’ll think they know.”

“No,” Cassie protested. “That will only lead Lord Bucksden to you, seeking us. I don’t want him hurting you.”

Philana embraced her. “Darling, you’re giving that awful scoundrel more credit than is his due, even as evil as he is. If you’re not at Ettrick House with me he can have no power over me, just as he had no power over you or Eliza until your father gave it to him. I’ll be safe, but I cannot rest easily until I know you’re safe as well. Now pack, darling, pack. The sooner we leave, the sooner you can be on your way to safety.”

Although Lucien had retired with the rest of Devanney’s guests several hours ago he was too angry to sleep. He paced his chamber, dressed only in his night shirt and his dressing gown. With every step he felt more a fool. It didn’t help that both Percy and Egremont had chuckled behind their hands at him for the rest of the evening. That beautiful little cheat had tarnished his repute.

He stopped at the window, looking out over a landscape that had been carefully sculpted into idyllic beauty. The scattering clouds were rags, wrung dry of last night’s rain. They blushed at the first touch of the sun. White fingers of mist snaked up from the river at the end of Devanney’s park land, threading through the artfully arranged copses. A hunting hawk or perhaps a sated owl soared over the treetops, scattering the smaller birds. Peacocks howled and strutted in the cross-shaped herb garden below Lucien’s window, welcoming the dawning day as they eyed the moist ground for unwary insects.

Leaning his forehead against the cool glass, Lucien strove to tame what boiled in him, something he’d been trying to do since he reached his bedchamber. It wasn’t possible. All he could think about was that every man and woman in the room had watched Cassie best him at cards, and not one of them had seen anything untoward.