The Conquest of Lady Cassandra (37 page)

“Sir.”

He jolted out of his thoughts. Higgins stood there holding his coat. He turned and slid it on.

“I will not be home for dinner, Higgins. Tell the butler.”

Before he left the house, he went in search of Aunt Sophie. Hopefully he was wrong, but he did not think that he was.

“E
xplain again why I am writing this letter,” Southwaite said while his pen hovered over the paper. He sat at a writing table in Brooks’s.

“Because you are my friend.”

“You are not going to do anything stupid with Barrowmore, are you? Fisticuffs or some other bad behavior? Zeus, you do not think to challenge him, I hope.”

“Kendale will be with me to pull me away if it looks to be going there.”

“Well,
that
is reassuring,” Southwaite said dryly. “Tell me what I am to write. I don’t like it, but I will do it.”

Yates looked over Southwaite’s shoulder. “Meet me in St. James’s Park this afternoon at four o’clock, regarding a matter of great consequence concerning your family’s estate.”

Southwaite dipped his pen and wrote.
Please…meet…me…in
…

“You added the please.”

“I am being polite.”

“The man is a scoundrel. I do not choose to be polite.”

“My name is signing it, not yours, and I
do
choose to be polite.” He scribbled on. “He is not going to like this ruse.”

“I do not give a damn, as long as he comes. He will never agree to meet me, that is certain. I realized recently that I have never spent a minute in the man’s company without others nearby.”

“Does this have to do with your wife?”

“It does.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is about?”

“No.” Not him. Not anyone, unless there came the day there was no choice.

Southwaite signed with a flourish, then folded and sealed the letter. He handed it to one of the club’s servants to post. Then he accompanied Yates to some chairs.

“Have you become accustomed to the married state?” Southwaite asked when they were comfortable.

“I find it suits me far beyond my highest hope.”

“The rumor is that it suits your bride as well.”

“The ladies have been talking?”

“As is their habit, yes. Emma is delighted that you took the house nearby, so I expect they will be sharing secrets a lot in the months to come. As for your bride, Emma confided
at dinner the other day that Cassandra is expressing supreme contentment and thinks you are a wonderful husband.”

“How flattering.”

“I thought so. My sister then opined that Cassandra had probably been swayed because you are a very hard man, and hard men are preferable. Emma then lectured how a man who is hard is unbearable to live with, lest Lydia had heard differently.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing at all. Do I look like a fool to you? Lydia countered that she had decided she would never marry unless she knew for a fact that the man was suitably hard. At that point, Emma seems to have wondered if they spoke about something other than demeanor. She blushed to her hairline.”

“Surely Lydia only repeated some nonsense she had heard, no matter what the double entendre.”

“Undoubtedly. I did scowl at my sister, lest she meant hard in a bawdy way and was deliberately speaking recklessly to get my goat.”

“She is lucky to have you as a brother, Southwaite. You are very patient.”

“I know.” He stretched out his legs and crossed his boots. “So how did you manage to start as a man marrying at the point of a sword and end so quickly as a wonderful husband? I had to seduce and woo for months to be wonderful.”

“I merely exercised my considerable talents in making women happy.”

“She did not stand a chance then, I suppose.”

Oh, she had stood a chance. Charm did not get one far with Cassandra Vernham. “The truth is that I am besotted with her, Southwaite. I cannot get enough of her and, thank God, she does not mind. I did the right thing and ended up falling in love with my wife.”

Southwaite’s teasing smile faded. “I am astonished. Happy for you, but astonished.”

“It was hardly expected.”

“All the more reason to be happy for you. And I am glad to have a friend who is also enchained. It will make the state more bearable. I have to warn you that not everyone will be congratulatory. There are men who think succumbing is a weakness, and we are to be pitied.”

One such man entered the chamber. He saw them and walked over.

“Do not tell him yet,” Southwaite said. “Once Kendale hears you are in love, you will never hear the end of it.”

Especially if the woman was
that woman
.

“What is happening? Why did you send for me, Ambury?” Kendale asked by way of greeting. “You both look as if I caught you eating the sugar.”

Yates kicked out a chair. “Sit and play some cards while we wait, Kendale.”

“Wait for what?”

“I have a rendezvous this afternoon. I need you to come with me and make sure I do not kill the man.”

B
arrowmore wandered through St. James’s Park, looking around for Southwaite. Yates had already taken position at a spot where no one could eavesdrop without being obvious, which meant right in the middle of the grass near the canal. Kendale lounged against a tree some distance away, looking like a man without purpose or concern.

Barrowmore saw Yates and halted. His brow knit as he worked out what to do.

“He is not coming,” Yates called. “I am here instead.”

Barrowmore hesitated, then walked over. “If this is about my aunt, you should know that I have petitioned the High Chancellor to look into the matter and get it settled quickly.”

“That is not necessary.”

“You intend to relinquish her to me?”

“It is not necessary, because she has already revealed that which you hope to keep a secret by putting her away.”

That startled the smug smile off Barrowmore’s face. He recovered, but it took a long few moments during which he appeared so frightened that Yates actually felt sorry for him. It must be hell to live every day with that kind of fear.

Barrowmore tried to sound superior, but only managed supercilious. “She is not right in her mind. Whatever nonsense she spoke, her words cannot be taken seriously.”

“Her mind is not what it used to be, but most of the time she is as lucid as you are. Nor was her story told while she was not in control of her faculties. Although, your fear was not without cause. She had said things in passing that alluded to this mystery. Enough that I came to wonder enough to ask.”

“My aunt has many stories.” His jaw kept clenching and his lips thinned. “Endless stories, about princes and dukes and parties and scandals. Half are not true, I am sure, just as this one is not.”

“This one was about being with child at the same time as her sister-in-law, and going to the country together for the duration and lying in. A discreet place, because Sophie was not married. I am sure Cassandra’s mother recalls all of this story too. Perhaps I should ask her.”

“Do not dare go near her.”

“Will you put her away as well, if with age she becomes indiscreet? She must be worrying about that now.”

Barrowmore’s agitation had grown extreme. Yates could not decide if the man was going to swing his fist or crumble into tears.

“You are talking in riddles. I do not have the time for this.” He began walking away.

“Only one of them had a child who survived the first day,” Yates said loud enough for Barrowmore to hear. “Sophie. The countess took that child as her own.”

Barrowmore froze. He looked around desperately, to see if anyone was near enough to have heard. He strode back until he stood less than a foot away. “Repeat that and I will kill you, Ambury.”

“I do not think I will repeat it, but I want some answers. My curiosity is my biggest failing. When did you learn the truth that you were Sophie’s son, not the countess’s? When your father was dying, is my guess. Men like to clear the air at such times.” He pictured Barrowmore hearing the deathbed revelation and learning he was not who he had spent his life thinking he was. Shocks like that could turn a man’s character, especially if suddenly there was much to lose in addition to one’s assumed identity. Barrowmore’s behavior had been reprehensible, but at least it made some sense now.

“What he told me was that my sister had too much of her aunt in her and to watch her carefully or she would bring shame on the family. He was right about that, and I am relieved she is your problem now.”

Yates saw red on hearing the insult to Cassandra. He maintained his calm with effort. “He also told you that she was not your sister. Not because of any problem with her legitimacy, but with yours. Sophie knows he was aware of what they had done. She knows he intended to tell you.”

“I am his son, damn you. His son and heir.”

“Under the law, yes. He did not repudiate you. The title was yours. The entailed lands too. Any inheritance that designated a direct blood descendant of his, instead of the usual line of inheritance, however—it was contestable by Cassandra. It still is.”

“Are you threatening me, Ambury? So that is what this is about. You married a slut that you tumbled, and now you want a settlement after all.”

He almost reached for Gerald to throttle him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kendale go rigidly alert, then take one step. He gestured behind his back for Kendale to stay away, and found some sense within the fury that urged him to thrash Barrowmore soundly.

“I should demand the biggest settlement England has seen after the way you treated her, you scoundrel. That was your fear—that she would marry a man who would learn
the truth and go after whatever he could in her name. Better she be married to some fellow you had in your pocket.”

“If you try for anything, I will fight you every step. I will have it tied up in Chancery for decades. She will not see a penny.”

“Probably not, but she will see you humiliated, and known as a bastard before the whole world. That may be worth more than money to her.”

Enraged, almost bursting from it, Barrowmore strode away again, then turned and strode back. His fists were clenched this time. “What the hell do you want? How much?”

“No money. You need only withdraw your petitions regarding your mother and speak nothing but praise of Cassandra in the future.”

“Praise?”

“Glowing praise. What a delight she is. How much you love her. How you regret the breach of the last years. You should write her a letter to this effect, to start. Be sure to grovel and beg her forgiveness in it.”

“
Are you mad?
I am not writing or saying anything of the kind.”

“Then I will expose the truth of your birth, and you will challenge me, and I will end up killing you. That alternative is not without appeal, but for my wife’s sake and that of the others involved, I will forgo the pleasure.”

Gerald still looked like a man who wanted to hit something. Over beneath the tree, Kendale maintained an alert pose.

“Damnation, if all you want is a letter full of lies and taking on the trouble of a dotty old woman, you can have it, Ambury. But I swear if you ever tell anyone any of this, if I ever hear it so much as whispered, I will see you dead.”

“I have no interest in telling anyone. Not even my wife.”

Gerald stared at him. Yates gazed right back, looking for—he did not know what.

Gerald turned to leave.

“Do you know who he is?” Yates asked. He had to know.

“Who? Oh, you mean the blackguard she raised her skirts for. No, thank God.” A scowl formed, then darkened with suspicion. “Hell, do
you
?”

Yates looked at the brother fate had given him. He branded his memory with the way the Highburton arrogance and righteousness could get twisted, so he would never forget its dangers.

“Sophie did not say and I did not ask. I have no idea who he was. None at all.”

C
assandra snuggled under Yates’s embracing arm and fitted her head against his shoulder. She laid her palm on his naked chest. She could feel his heart beat if she paid close attention. It thrummed like a vague physical echo sounding through his body.

Autumn’s crisp air chilled the chamber, but they were cozy under down. The toile drapery around their bed held out the worst of night’s cold. She never closed the drapes all the way, however. Her new home still fascinated her. She liked being able to see the silver light break through the night at dawn from where she slept.

“Will you go to Fairbourne’s early, to help Emma?” Yates asked. He often remained in her bed until morning like this. He seemed to enjoy the peaceful hour after waking when they held each other and listened to the household start the day.

“I will arrive an hour before the auction. She does not really require my help, except to keep her from worrying.
It will kill her to be unable to do anything useful. Her brother plays his role today, and the world must assume she is no more than a patron like I am.”

“Will your aunt join you?”

The question referred to one of the more interesting developments since they had moved into the house on St. James’s Square. Aunt Sophie had come out of her retirement. Most notably, she had taken to visiting Yates’s parents. Yesterday she had agreed to receive Southwaite’s Aunt Hortense.

“I think an auction would tire her. Nor do I know that she even enjoys them. She never spoke of acquiring jewels that way.” The way she had acquired them was being rectified. Discreet letters from Mr. Prebles were on their way to various locations on the Continent. Sophie had cooperated with the plan of restitution, to the extent she could. She really did not remember where some of the jewels had come from.

He pressed a kiss to her crown. “She appears contented here, with Merriweather as her companion. Her insistence that Senora Paolini be retained as one of the cooks is not the disaster I expected, although I find the woman’s food a little odd. Not bad, mind you.”

She decided not to mention that Aunt Sophie’s interference might account for any oddities.