A False Proposal (18 page)

Chapter Twenty

When Cass first glimpsed Adam at breakfast, she knew a night’s sleep hadn’t helped his mood. His expression was stony, his jaw set. He looked up from his paper long enough to nod a greeting to her. While a footman poured her tea, she filled her plate with rolls, shirred eggs, and bacon. Nibbling half-heartedly, she listened to Jenny’s description of some of the items she’d purchased on the recent trip to the village. An unusual clasp for her hair. A new bonnet. A copy of Lord Byron’s latest volume of poetry,
Childe Harold
.

Most of the guests were preparing to leave and did not linger over breakfast. Finally, Jack, Jenny, Adam, and Cass were the only ones left. Adam folded his paper and set it aside.

“I intend to visit Sir William this morning.”

“The timing is unfortunate,” Jack said.

Adam nodded. “I am not optimistic, but he has said he would consider me, and I must have his answer, whatever it is.”

Cass said, “He and your father were at odds before Jack even wrote to him about you. Last night’s antics couldn’t have come as a great shock to him.”

“You’re right, of course. But Sir William heard what my father said in a crowded ballroom about Eleanor. The man probably felt humiliated.”

“I don’t think too many people could make out what he was saying,” Jenny said.

“Enough did to get his back up,” Jack said. “And all the gossips will soon get wind of it. Then there is the matter of your engagement to Cass.” Cass felt heat rise in her cheeks.

Adam stood. “We could discuss it all morning and still not know where things stand. I must be on my way.”

“Should we wait for your return before we depart?” Jack asked.

Adam had turned to go, but spun back around. “Would you mind? We’ll need to settle some things once we know Broxton’s decision. In fact, I think you should stay over tonight.”

As soon as Adam’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Cass said, “I must tell Louisa we aren’t leaving today. She’s been supervising the packing. She’ll be angry.”

“And I should tell Mama,” Jenny said.

“I was wondering,” Cass said, “if there was some way I could get out of riding home with Louisa. I rather wanted to strangle her on the way here.” She looked at Jack imploringly.

“My mother is quite fond of Louisa,” Jenny said.

Simultaneously, Cass and Jack said, “She is?”

Jenny laughed. “She has a few redeeming qualities, you know. Why don’t I suggest that the two of them ride home in our carriage, and you and I can ride in yours? Jack, what do you think?”

“As long as I don’t have to ride with her, whatever you decide suits me.”

Both girls gave him a quelling look before taking themselves off to find the two older women.

…

Adam was accorded a cordial welcome by Sir William and led into a drawing room with tall sash windows and comfortable groupings of furniture. Eleanor rang for tea. “Mama is out making calls,” she said. Once the tea was poured, she excused herself.

“I’m glad you called, Grey,” Sir William said as soon as they’d resumed their seats. The Viscount tells me you wish to stand for Commons as my candidate.” There was a hardness around his mouth that made Adam uneasy.

“Yes, sir. Linford supports my election.”

“I was inclined to give you a chance. My current man is ready to retire. To say the truth, he hasn’t been worth much for several years. Too old, and in his cups more often than not. Don’t even think he attends sessions on a regular basis.”

Adam had not missed his use of the past tense, and so waited with dread to hear the rest. Despite what had happened at the ball, he’d hoped the man could separate the election from his troubles with Adam’s father.

“But I’m afraid the stand-off with Benjamin over the debt he owes me, combined with his actions of last night, have changed my mind.” Looking like he’d just been poked with a cattle prod, he tilted his head forward and peered at Adam. “I detested my Eleanor witnessing his unseemly behavior. And half of Haslemere looking on, too. It’s an outrage.”

Broxton sat back in his chair and kept his accusatory gaze fixed on Adam, who felt like a schoolboy about to be sent down. “Given your parentage, I’m not sure I can trust you to do your duty as an MP. I’ve concluded that all the Grey men are alike.”

“I am not my father, sir,” Adam said stiffly, using every ounce of self-control he possessed not to rage at the unfairness of this statement. It was one thing for
him
to fear he might turn out like his father, but another matter altogether for someone else to accuse him of it. Interesting that Sir William had made no mention of his wish for Adam to marry Eleanor, which was what had set all of these events in motion. Apparently, he’d had no qualms about Adam’s character when he suggested that.

Sir William continued as though he hadn’t heard. “Your conduct in the war was exemplary. I’d assumed you might work toward ending this interminable conflict.”

Adam leaned forward. “That’s exactly what I wish to do, sir. It’s the foremost reason I want a seat in Commons.”

Sir William made no response, merely sat staring at Adam with his arms crossed over his chest. Very carefully Adam placed his teacup on the table. Above all else, he wanted to depart with his dignity—what little he apparently had left—intact. “My apologies if Miss Broxton was in any way hurt by my father’s actions.” Adam wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t responsible.

Sir William shifted in his chair and spoke at last. “I had hoped you might make a match with my Eleanor.”

Ah, there it was at last. “But I am betrothed to Miss Linford. Surely you would not have expected me to break my engagement. What kind of man would that make me?” Adam cringed inside at his own hypocrisy.

“That is not what your father led me to believe.”

“You must understand, Sir William, that I have had no contact with my father. Until a few days ago, I hadn’t seen him in years.”

His brows shot up, and hope rose in Adam’s chest that he might reconsider his decision. But no. Sir William got to his feet and said, “I am sorry we could not have concluded this in a way that was satisfactory for us both.”

That I marry your daughter in exchange for a seat in Commons?
Adam was certain that if he offered to jilt Cass there and then and marry Eleanor, Broxton would agree.

When the man did not offer to shake hands, Adam bowed and said, “I’ll see myself out.”

He couldn’t really blame anybody else for his father’s behavior; yet all the way home he wondered why Sir William had continued to gamble with the old man. At some point, Broxton must have known he couldn’t honor his debt. It was as if he had wanted to force Benjamin Grey into a hole he could never crawl out of.

As soon as he arrived at the estate, Adam retreated to the library. He knew the others were probably waiting for him, but he badly needed some time alone to mull over all that had happened today. He poured himself a whiskey and sank into his chair. God, but he was tired. Tired of everything.

He drank a long swallow and ruminated. On the way home, he’d begun to think about Cassie. What he had said to Sir William about being engaged to her. Christ, he felt like a scoundrel. And a liar. He’d said to the man, “I’m not my father,” but was it true? He was certainly acting like him.

It struck him that he was using Cass in the worst sort of way imaginable. Adam should never have agreed to her plan for them to be lovers. If she’d agreed to play the part of his betrothed, that would have been one thing. Even asking that was less than honorable. But when she’d raised the possibility of more, well, that had changed everything. The fact that he hadn’t been strong enough to reject it out of hand spoke volumes about his true character. He had allowed her to persuade him that she didn’t want marriage because she didn’t trust men. Well, she’d been right not to trust him. A decent man would have put paid to her plan before anything had occurred. A decent man would have figured out a way to help her rather than sleep with her. Instead, he’d thought only of himself.

It sickened Adam to draw this conclusion, but the evidence was undeniable. He was turning into his father. He wasn’t good enough for Cass. Would never be good enough for her. The whole scheme hadn’t felt right from the outset. Lying to his mother, Hugh, and his friends. And after making love to Cass, he hadn’t allowed himself to express his true feelings to her. Not when their engagement was a sham.

There was only one thing to do, and that was to end the whole scheme with Cass, before she was hurt beyond repair. She was a lady, and one whom he admired and respected. Yes, and lusted after. As long as they allowed the pretense of an engagement to go on, that would be the case, and he wasn’t sure if he could resist her. He would seek Cass out right now, before he had time to change his mind, and tell her it was over. There was just enough time to get it done before they had to dress for dinner.

…

Cass had been keeping watch for Adam for the past hour or so. Earlier, she had been out for a walk; afterward she’d joined in a game of piquet with Jenny, Jenny’s mother, and Deborah. Cousin Louisa sat nearby embroidering, and when Cass had said she was tired of cards, her cousin happily took her place.

She tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. Nevertheless, she resolutely held the book out in front of her and hoped nobody would notice that she turned the page very infrequently. Just when she thought she might lose her mind, she glimpsed Adam in the doorway. He seemed in a good enough humor, but she knew it could be for show.

“Good evening, ladies.” After some desultory talk about nothing, he made his way over to Cass and said, “Come to the library with me?” The others, absorbed in their game, hardly gave them a second glance.

She nodded and followed him from the room. Adam poured himself a whiskey and she accepted a glass of sherry. Instead of sitting behind the desk, he seated himself next to her on the settee. He was quiet, sober, and Cass concluded that the news could not be good.

Adam swallowed a good measure of his drink before speaking. “Sir William intends to look elsewhere for a candidate. Having concluded that ‘all the Grey men are alike,’ he has rejected me.”

Cass set her glass down. “Oh, Adam, no. I am so sorry.”

“I’ve made my peace with his decision, Cassie. Don’t distress yourself.” He reached for her hand and gently enfolded it in his much larger one.

“But your hopes and dreams, all you wanted to accomplish, lost! I can’t bear it, for your sake. How can you be so calm about it?”

Adam raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “There is nothing I can do short of marrying his daughter. Despite his apparent dislike of the Grey men, I had the distinct impression that if I’d suggested breaking my engagement to you and offering for Eleanor, he would have changed his view quite readily.”

“What a hypocrite.”

Adam poured himself another whiskey and walked over to stand by the windows. “Perhaps. I’m extremely disappointed in not being his candidate, but the greater anguish is to have someone accuse me of being like my father.”

“Broxton doesn’t know you, Adam. If he did, he wouldn’t accuse you of something so blatantly false.”

He glanced at Cass, his expression so desolate she wanted to weep. “Are you certain?” He tossed back his drink and set the glass down. “Look at what I’ve done to you. First asking you to pretend to be engaged to me. That was bad enough, but then when you suggested we become lovers, instead of doing the gentlemanly thing and refusing, I slept with you.” He paused and rubbed a hand over his face. “You say I’m a good man, but a good man would not have agreed. He would have been more concerned about your reputation, your happiness, and would have tried to help you overcome your mistrust of men before bedding you.”

Cass rose, shaking her head. “No, Adam. You’re wrong. I asked for this arrangement, and as far as I’m concerned…” Her voice petered out. She knew there were aspects of it that made her uncomfortable, too, partly due to her own indecision about whether she would be happier with marriage. Yet she was not at all ready to give up the intimacy she had just found with Adam because of a few lingering doubts.

“See? You’re not convinced either.”

She walked over to him and grasped his arm. “Doesn’t intimacy always involve a degree of uncertainty, by its very nature? I know it’s made me more vulnerable, but I will never regret what we did. Never.”

Adam smiled, that sweet, closed-mouth smile she believed was for her alone. “I’m glad of that, at least.” He pulled her into his arms, pressing rough kisses on her mouth. Electrified by his touch, she molded herself against him, trying to fit her curves to his flat planes and angles. When his hands clutched her bottom, she felt his tumescence and thought she might scream with her need for him.

Then, with a curse, he backed away from her. “No,” he said. “No.”

Cass knew he desired her, but he’d apparently made up his mind to resist her. “I’m sorry that wanting me makes you feel…corrupted, somehow,” she said, her throat thick. “Will you now wish to forget what we did? Never think of it again?”

“You are a lady, Cassie. I stole something precious from you. Your innocence.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. I
asked
you to make love to me, Adam. I was a willing—more than willing—participant.” She probably should have stopped herself, but now she was angry as well as hurt. “If you truly believe you stole my innocence, isn’t it far worse that you did so and now wish to forsake me?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “That’s not…I’m not…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

Don’t
cry
.
Do not cry
, she commanded herself.

Adam’s jaw was set stubbornly. They were at an impasse, and she would have to be the one to give way. She must accept his decision and try to salvage their friendship—and her dignity. Drawing back, she forced herself to say, “Fine. No more of this, then. But I am not giving up on your political career. What will you do now that Sir William won’t have you?”