Andrea Kane (27 page)

With a wave of self-contempt Braden recalled the amount of time he had spent at the ball appeasing that spoiled, vindictive little bitch. Part of it was to keep her as far away from Kassie as possible, for he knew that Kassie was no match for Abigail’s biting tongue. But, Braden thought to himself with brutal honesty, there was more to it than that. The reality was that with Abigail he was safe. She aroused nothing in him but his scorn, called upon no emotions that begged to remain untouched. Perhaps that was why he had once considered marrying her. With Abigail there was no risk of hurt, and Braden could belong entirely to himself. Once that would have been reason enough. Not anymore.

Not since Kassie.

Braden frowned, struck by an alarming thought.

What if Robert Grey had somehow managed to gain entrance to Sherburgh and had harmed Kassie? Or taken her away?

Propelled by the loathsome possibility, Braden raced toward the front door, needing reassurance that this could not be. It was an impossibility, he reasoned with himself. The number of servants he had guarding the borders of the estate was simply too great to bypass. Still …

Perkins reached the marble hallway at precisely that moment, and Braden seized the butler’s arm.

“Perkins, have you seen the duchess?” he demanded.

“No, Your Grace.” Perkins took in Braden’s haunted look, the deep circles beneath his eyes, without batting an eyelash. “But I have been discreetly questioning most of the servants for the past hour. No one has seen any sign of the duchess since she left the ballroom earlier this evening.”

Braden’s brows went up. “I don’t recall mentioning my wife’s disappearance to you before now. How is it that you know of it?”

Perkins gave a haughty sniff. “If you will forgive me, Your Grace, little happens at Sherburgh that escapes my notice.” Ignoring Braden’s stunned expression, Perkins continued, “However, something dreadful must have happened to make Her Grace vanish like this.” He gazed pointedly at Braden. “Someone must have upset that extraordinary girl a great deal, or she would never have—”

“You made your point, Perkins.” Braden scowled in the butler’s direction. First Margaret, now Perkins. The last thing Braden intended to endure was his servants’ censure. “You may resume your duties,” he directed the butler, his tone formidable.

Perkins’s expression remained impassive. “I shall continue to search,” he announced, and with another dignified sniff he went off.

Braden was too consumed with worry to argue further. With mounting fear he considered his options. If no one could locate Kassie, then she must have left the house. If so, where would she go?

The beach.

Braden hastened to the stables, which were dark and quiet. By the door Dobson shifted in his sleep, unaware of Braden’s presence. Braden did not stop to awaken him but went inside. A quick count told him that all the horses were in their stalls. He double-checked Little Lady to be certain. She was there, settled in for the night.

Panic exploded inside his head. If Kassie
was
outside, she was on foot … and vulnerable. He
had
to find her.

The beach was ruled out. For her to have ventured there by foot would have taken all night; it was simply too far. She would have needed a mount.

He stared blankly across the darkened grounds, his mind groping, tortured. Where else would Kassie go if she sought peace?

As if in answer, the memory of Kassie’s happy face, her laughing voice drifted into his head.
But Braden, it is so beautiful here! The water is so refreshing, the grass so soft
. …

The stream. She
must
be at the stream!

He didn’t stop to have a horse saddled. He wanted to go by foot, to be able to search even the most minute hiding place within the thick cluster of trees that cloaked his property. He took off at a run.

“Braden?” Charles’s voice halted him in his tracks. Eagerly Braden turned to his friend, hoping to find the answer on his face. But Charles’s words dashed his hopes. “Perkins told me you were looking for Kassandra, that she is missing.”

“She is. I don’t know where she’s gone, Charles, but I know that she is upset.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Very upset. We have to find her.”

Charles asked no further questions. “I’ll search the immediate grounds, you go to the far sections of the estate.” He paused, his blue eyes penetrating, his mouth set in a grim line. “Do you have reason to believe that Grey—”

“I don’t know!” Braden snapped back. He didn’t want to think about Charles’s implication. He was sick with worry and guilt. “I’m going to find her, Charles. I don’t care if it takes all night.”

“We’ll find her, Braden” was the solemn reply. “I promise you we’ll find her.”

Despite the cool night air, Braden was sweating by the time he reached the stream. It was deserted. The moonglow reflected off the languid water, and silence ruled the world.

He lowered his head in despair, fear streaking through him in sharp waves. If Kassie wasn’t here, he had no idea where else to look. Particularly since it was becoming obvious she didn’t want to be found. And how could he blame her, especially after that escapade with Abigail? He couldn’t, nor could he expect her to believe in his innocence.

For what had he done to convince her of it? Nothing. As if his supposed love affair hadn’t been enough, he had been utterly foxed, his mind so clouded with liquor that he hadn’t had time to react.

Clouded with liquor. Braden clenched his fists at his sides. How could he have been so stupid, resorting to the very vice that Kassie feared the most? Braden cursed himself for twenty times the fool. He remembered Kassie’s white face when she had witnessed him becoming more and more intoxicated at the party. She had obviously been afraid. Only he had been too damned caught up in his own emotions, too stunned and resistant to his newly discovered feelings for his wife to notice. Not to mention his jealousy, Braden reminded himself. He despised seeing her with Grant—seeing her with
any
man—when she belonged to him.
Him.

The intensity of his reaction struck Braden like a blow to his gut, reducing him to a state of imbalance that he had not allowed himself since childhood. But since Kassandra had come into his life everything was changed.
He
was changed. He had known from the first that Kassie needed him, and he had grown accustomed to the fierce protectiveness and equally fierce passion she aroused within him.

What he hadn’t counted on was needing her in return.

The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and Braden stared off into the dark, desolate night. Kassie was out there somewhere, and he had absolutely no idea where she had gone. He closed his eyes in frustration and despair. God, where was she?

“Kassandra!” Braden’s primal shout echoed eerily through the trees and drifted back … unanswered.

K
ASSIE STIRRED, FEELING SOMETHING
dry and abrasive scratch against her cheek. She frowned, brushing it away, only to encounter handfuls of the same coarse substance. Resettling herself, she sought a comfortable spot so she could sink back into slumber.

From just beside her a soft whinny urged her to reconsider and arise. Slowly she opened her eyes to a layer of straw and a dark stall. She sat up and blinked, feeling cramped and disoriented. Where was she?

It was near dawn. Kassie could tell by the weak rays of sunlight that were trickling into the dark, silent stables—the same stables that had served as her haven last night. A determined bark claimed her attention, and she turned to gaze into a pair of soulful brown eyes and to feel a warm, wet tongue lap at her face.

“Percy,” she murmured, automatically reaching for her pet and the comfort that holding him brought. He snuggled willingly into her arms, nuzzling her throat and licking her chin. Loyal little Percy, she thought, giving him a warm hug.
He
would never turn away from her.

A flood of memories assailed her. Last night. The ball. Braden dancing with Abigail. Abigail lying naked in Braden’s bed.

Feeling sick, Kassie wanted nothing more than to remain in the stable forever.

A whinny sounded, interrupting her thoughts, louder than the first and accompanied by an attention-getting stomp. Kassie looked up at the stall’s other occupant, the sleek Thoroughbred who had allotted a portion of his sleeping quarters to her last night.

“Good morning, Star,” she said with a tired smile. “And thank you for sharing your bedchamber with me.” She looked away, tears filling her eyes. “Under the circumstances, it was my only tolerable choice.”

Star snorted his agreement, and Kassie rose stiffly, setting Percy upon the ground. Her legs felt wobbly and her head ached dreadfully, both from crying and from lack of sleep. Pieces of straw clung to her hair and her gown … the beautiful gown that just hours earlier she had proudly worn to her first Sherburgh ball, and now it hung in disheveled ruin.

Kassie brushed off the dirt as best she could, fully aware that she was in desperate need of a bath. But she was not yet ready to face a houseful of curious guests, well-meaning servants … and Braden. Especially not Braden.

Kassie felt ill.

“Who’s there?”

She jumped at the sound of Dobson’s booming voice. “It is just I, Dobson,” she called back quickly.

Seconds later the young groom stood wide-eyed and openmouthed before Star’s stall. “Yer Grace? Oh, m’God!” He rushed in, his face a mask of fury. “What ’as ’e done t’ye?” He looked her over anxiously. “Where are ye ’urt?”

Kassie was appalled. Was the whole staff privy to her dishonor? And what did they think had transpired? Yes, Braden had hurt her … terribly. But certainly not physically; never that.

“I’m not hurt, Dobson, truly,” she began, an embarrassed flush staining her cheeks. “He would never harm me.”

Dobson cast a scathing look at the glistening horse at Kassie’s side, “ ’e must ’ave done something, Yer Grace, t’mess up yer gown like that! I told ye never t’try and ’andle ’im without me or ’is Grace ’ere.”

Realization struck. “Star?” Kassie stroked a hand instinctively down the horse’s neck. “You thought that Star had hurt me?”

“Well, who else, Yer Grace?” Dobson looked puzzled.

Kassie shook her head. “Star would never harm me, would you, boy?” She reached up to stroke the Thoroughbred’s sleek mane and was rewarded with an adoring whinny and a warm nuzzle.

Dobson’s mouth fell open. “Well, I’ll be …”

Kassie didn’t understand his shock, but she had enough on her mind this morning without worrying about Dobson’s imaginary fears. “I’ll be back for a visit later today, my friend,” she murmured, giving Star one last loving pat. “All right?”

Dobson could swear that the normally wild, unmanageable stallion nodded his assent.

“I’ll be out of your way now, Dobson, so you can get on with your day. Come, Percy.”

Kassie strolled through the dewy grass, thinking how beautiful and peaceful Sherburgh was at this time of day. Pale lemon-colored sunlight drifted from the heavens. Dawn in the country … nature in all its gentle splendor.

Gentle. Instantly a picture sprang to mind … a picture of Braden’s face when he made love to her … the tenderness in his eyes … the heated words he breathed against her skin … the reverence of his touch. No. She had not imagined it.
Lady
Abigail was wrong. It was there, and it was something far more intense than mere affection. And yet, if that was so, a little voice inside her cried out, why did he need Abigail Devon?

A low growl from Percy made Kassie start.

“What is it, boy?” Kassie asked nervously. The friendliest of dogs, Percy rarely growled at anything or anyone. And he
never
bared his teeth so. … She was on the verge of assuring him that no one was about when she was struck by the sudden sensation that she was being watched. Her head flew up, and she searched the acres of grass through uneasy eyes. The estate seemed deserted.

“There is no one here, Percy,” she declared aloud, more for her own sake than for his. Abruptly Percy stiffened, letting out a loud warning bark. Kassie felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and her heart began to pound faster. “What do you see, boy?” she asked fearfully, wishing they were closer to the house.

Percy barked again, louder this time.

“Who’s there?” Kassie called out, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Silence was her only answer.

“Who is it?” she demanded again, fear constricting her chest.

Again, nothing.

An undefinable wave of panic swept over Kassie. Someone was out there; she could feel it. And whoever it was wanted to remain unseen. And he was watching her.

“Come on, Percy,” she urged, already beginning to run. “Let’s go back to the house.” Blindly she raced off, praying that she could outrun whoever was out there. Her feet flew out from under her, her breath coming in short pants. She felt the scratches inflicted by passing branches, but an innate sense of self-protection spurred her on and refused to let her rest. Percy just behind her, she fled the danger that awaited. She was but several hundred feet from her goal when a strong hand caught her arm.

“Let me go!” she screamed, struggling to free herself.

“Kassandra? What is it? What’s happened?”

At the sound of Charles’s voice huge waves of relief swept over Kassie. She sagged against him, grateful for the strength of his arms as they held her up.

“Have you been hurt?” he asked anxiously. When she didn’t respond Charles shook her gently.

“No,” she whispered, glancing behind her. “Not hurt, just frightened.”

“Why are you frightened?” he demanded. “And where have you been? The entire household has been frantic looking for you!”

Kassie blinked. “They have? Why?”

“Why?” He raked his fingers through his thinning hair in exasperation. “You were gone from Sherburgh all night! Braden was crazed with worry!”

Kassie’s jaw tightened. “Oh, was he? I didn’t think my presence would be missed … under the circumstances.”

Charles looked puzzled. “Circumstances? What circumstances?”