In the Garden of Seduction Read online

  “Roger,” she said through gritted teeth, “I was not encouraging Lord Sutherfield. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my foot is interfering with my ability to chase gentlemen this week. Please, how long am I going to have to sit here?”

  “No need to be snide, my dear. I know your foot must be paining you. Come, our blanket is ready.”

  She allowed herself to be pulled out of the carriage and into her cousin’s arms, though not without a great deal of resentment. She had been looking forward to this day, yet between Roger and the marquess it was nearly ruined.

  They stumbled toward their picnic sight and he plunked Cassandra on the ground, grunting as he did so. He straightened and smiled in relief, gratified, she imagined, that he had managed with such a load.

  “I’ll get you a plate,” he offered. “What would you like? There seems to be a little of everything.”

  “You choose.” She waved him away.

  “Right.” He started to leave then turned back to her. “It’s just you and I,” he said. “Penelope is eating with Regina.”

  And with that what appetite she still possessed disappeared.

  Staring moodily across the grove, Cassandra caught sight of Lord Sutherfield sharing a plate of food with one Miss Cordelia Henry, clearly enjoying himself. And Miss Henry was certainly enjoying his company as well. She felt the sting of jealousy and was angry with herself. I should be pleased that he’s turned that charm on someone else, she thought.

  Roger returned shortly with enough food for ten people, and Cassandra set about finding her hunger. Oddly, once she began to eat her appetite returned. She also found it unnecessary to talk with her cousin if her mouth was full.

  Apparently, Roger did not mind talking while he ate. “You know, Cassandra, I don’t wish to badger you, but you should avoid Lord Sutherfield.”

  “I told you, Roger, he approached me.”

  “Yes, I believe you,” he said, his tone pompous, “but you and I will be engaged soon, and I don’t want there to be any ugly rumors attached to my future wife.”

  Cassandra listened to this speech, her ire increasing with each word he uttered. “I have not said I will marry you, Roger.”

  “I know Uncle has agreed not to discuss our future for the moment, but we must marry. It is what your grandfather wishes.”

  He continued to eat, unperturbed.

  “Don’t you mind that your life is being decided for you without your permission?”

  He paused. “I intend to cooperate—that’s permission isn’t it? It’s my duty.”

  “I don’t see it as my duty. I see a selfish old man who will use whatever means are necessary, including using people he’s supposed to care about. If I’m to participate, don’t you think I should feel as strongly as he does about all this?”

  “Cassandra, please be reasonable.” Again he was patronizing her. “Your upbringing makes it difficult for you to understand. Let me guide you in this.”

  “But we are completely incompatible,” she said, with growing frustration. “You can’t want to marry someone who does not care for you.”

  “I’d like to think I would make a decent husband.”

  He looked hurt and she regretted having put it so bluntly.

  “You’re not that fond of me, either,” she insisted.

  “I think you are very beautiful.”

  “But you don’t like me.” She wanted to throttle him.

  “That will come in time.”

  “It will never come, I know that. If you don’t know it now, you will eventually.” She peeked at him sideways, struck by sudden inspiration. “Truth is Penelope and you are much more suited. And I think she is attracted to you.”

  “Some things are not meant to be,” was his response. He seemed so miserable of a sudden, Cassandra wondered if he truly meant what he said.

  “Roger, I can’t fight Grandfather alone. If we refuse to give in to his wishes, it will be much easier for both of us.”

  He set his plate down and turned to look at her directly. “Let me tell you something,” he said in a stern voice, “I will inherit a title and a very large estate because it is entailed. That cannot be changed. But there is very little money to go with it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Most of Uncle’s money is not entailed. It is to do with as he wishes. He will give it to me if I marry you. That money is needed to run the estate properly.” He eyed her, his manner disdainful.

  “I can’t believe he’d leave you without the resources to care for his property,” she persisted. “It means everything to him.”

  He continued to stare at her, a mulish look on his face, but he did not answer.

  “You have nothing more to say?” Cassandra wanted to give into a bout of hysterics. Dignity be damned!

  “Maybe it would be best if we did not speak until later on the subject.”

  The sanctimonious sound in his voice sent her teeth to gnashing, and that more than anything convinced her she and Roger would never suit. Any man who could set aside a heated argument for future dissection, had no passion in him—no fire. She’d as soon marry an icicle.

  “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t care if we ever speak about it again,” Cassandra said. She knew she sounded petty but could not help it.

  Roger stood up and brushed off his trousers. “I’m going to leave you until your temper subsides.”

  “And while you’re at it,” she said spitefully, “why don’t you find someone to take me home before my anger ruins the picnic for everyone.”

  He stared at her a moment, uncertain. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you have anyone in mind?” he asked, his features also pinched with anger.

  Regrettably, she did not though she was too proud to admit it. She glanced across the grove and, after a moment of anxious searching, her gaze came to rest on Harry Stiles. Surely, he would not let her down.

  “Mr. Stiles will be happy to do it.” She sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Right then.” He stalked in the direction of Mr. Stiles.

  Oh, dear. The second man today to walk away from her because she had managed to insult him, Cassandra thought wryly.

  *****

  Simon saw Roger Morley walk away from Cassandra. Clearly, the couple had been arguing, for they had been speaking to one another in an animated fashion—at least Miss James looked animated. He watched her where she now sat alone, the sun glinting off her auburn curls, and he smiled to himself. He suspected that lovely hair did indeed reflect her hot temperament. He found the idea very provocative.

  He had not enjoyed it quite as much when she had turned those lovely blue eyes on him earlier and sliced him into fine pieces. Miss James was clever. Cleverness could make a woman unpredictable, and he found the challenge appealed to him.

  She had called him a rogue. Simon’s first reaction had been anger. But a little time to reflect had allowed him to see the humor in her actions. Another more compelling reason motivated him. He had been honest when he told her he liked her.

  Cassandra James had interested him from the first time he’d seen her. She was beautiful, but it was more than that. He sensed a connection with her, something he couldn’t name but could feel. He believed she felt it, too.

  Simon brought his gaze back to his dinner companion, the lovely Cordelia Henry. She was an attractive, pleasant young woman. And not once during their lively conversation had Miss Henry called his character into question. She had instead flattered him outrageously. So, why did Miss Henry bore him?

  Most women pandered to him. Position and money were an irresistible combination, and he had both. Up to this time, Simon had never cared if a woman was interested in him or his pocketbook. Being a skeptic he usually assumed it was the latter.

  Simon watched Morley cross the grove and approach Harry. The two men spoke briefly and then Roger left, leaving Harry wearing an uneasy expression.

  T
he marquess caught Harry’s attention across the distance, and he nodded at his friend. He could see Harry wanted to speak to him and so, with as much grace as he could manage, he withdrew from his lovely companion. He came languidly to his feet and walked to Harry’s side.

  “You’re looking unhappy, Harry. What did Morley want?”

  “I’m a little uncomfortable, Simon,” he admitted. “He told me that Miss James would appreciate it if I would escort her home.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said yes, of course. The way he asked, I think she no longer wants to ride with him.”

  “Is that so?” The marquess felt his spirits rise, and he sent Harry a calculating glance.

  “Now wait a minute, Simon. Don’t look at me like that. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking Morley approached the wrong man. I will escort Miss James home.”

  “Don’t even bother, my friend,” Harry said in a dry voice. “I would be acting shabbily if I passed my responsibility along to you.”

  “Do you want to take her home?” The marquess asked suspiciously.

  “I don’t mind and that’s the truth. I’d be a fool not to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.” Harry sounded defensive. “I also happen to think Miss James is delightful. But I have no designs on her, and I admit I’d rather not be in the middle of an argument.”

  “Then let me escort her. I have no problem getting in the middle of her little tiff with Morley. Maybe she’ll need a shoulder to cry on, and I may have the very shoulder she needs.” Harry studied the marquess for several moments, uncertain. “I wish I knew what you want from her. I’d insist you tell me, but I don’t believe you know, either.”

  *****

  Cassandra sat on the hard ground, her backside beginning to feel tender from having remained in one place for so long. She hated the inactivity. She could blame herself, for she had sent Roger away. She had seen him leave with Penelope a short while ago and, though she knew it was irrational, she felt abandoned.

  Several people had come to sit with her intermittently throughout the afternoon, including two or three eligible gentlemen. And Mr. Stiles had joined her for a while, though he had not mentioned taking her home. Nevertheless, she assumed that was his intention, for she had seen Roger talk to him.

  But now the grove was beginning to clear, and Mr. Stiles had not yet come for her. In fact, she hadn’t seen him for some time. Had he forgotten her? She had already waved away several people who had asked if she needed assistance. Perhaps she had been too hasty.

  Then Cassandra saw the marquess, wearing a broad grin, his attitude cocky as he sauntered toward her.

  “Miss James, I understand you need a ride home,” he said as he reached her. He bent low in a courtly bow. “I’m at your service.”

  “Mr. Stiles is taking me.” Her voice raised a full octave before she finished speaking.

  “No, no—I’m to do it, I’m fairly certain. You don’t mind, do you?”

  He could not fool her with that innocent stare, she thought indignantly. She did mind, yes, she did.

  “Lord Sutherfield, are you certain? I could have sworn Roger asked Mr. Stiles.”

  “Now you mention it, I believe he did. Harry was called away at the last moment and I’m afraid the task fell to me.”

  Cassandra sighed then, aware that she had been outmaneuvered. She knew the marquess had arranged this even if she couldn’t prove it. She supposed he was planning revenge on her for insulting him earlier. She did intend to remember one thing for the future, though—it was one thing to tell a person exactly what was on one’s mind, and something else to have to face that person later with the words still fresh between them.

  “I’d rather not impose on you, Lord Sutherfield,” she said, but she knew her voice had lost its conviction.

  After all, who else was there to help her? She could have a message sent to her grandfather, a course of action she knew the old man would prefer. Thus, she would be ruffling some feathers if she allowed the Marquess to escort her home.

  “Doesn’t seem to be any other option, does there, my dear?” he said.

  He had been watching her, and she knew he was amused by her indecision. If he intended to be so sure of himself, perhaps she had better reconsider.

  “You could send a message to my grandfather. He will send someone for me.”

  “I couldn’t possibly do that, Miss James. It could take awhile. You’ll be here alone. I would feel responsible if anything happened to you.”

  He smiled at her, attitude guileless, and it took all Cassandra’s willpower not to smile in return. Oh, he was a rogue for certain! It would not take more than one half hour for a carriage to be summoned and come for her. And if he were so worried for her safety, he could wait with her until it arrived. But he wanted to play this game, and suddenly she wanted to play it with him.

  “I believe you could charm the devil out of tempting man.” She did smile then because she couldn’t help herself.

  “Do you think so?” he asked her. His expression turned wolfish. “I must tell you, though, I would prefer he not stop tempting woman.”

  She laughed and he laughed with her. For a brief moment they were in complete harmony. Surprised, Cassandra found herself enjoying the mutual goodwill.

  “How about it, Miss James, may I take you home now?”

  She merely nodded.

  And with little effort, he lifted her into his strong arms and briskly walked toward his carriage.

  *****

  CHAPTER 6

  Lord Sutherfield helped Cassandra into Mr. Stiles’ new curricle and climbed in beside her.

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said as she settled her skirts.

  “Your foot is not paining you?”

  “As long as I don’t put weight on it there is no discomfort.” She slid her gaze curiously in his direction, pleased by his concern.

  “Good. Let’s be off.” He flicked the reins and the curricle pulled out of the grove.

  They did not speak at first. Lord Sutherfield glanced at her, smiling in a reassuring manner. Cassandra was aware of the warmth of his body, the length of his leg next to hers, and she held herself in a stiff, uncompromising position so she did not lean too close to him.

  She felt guilty, for she had been unforgivably rude to the marquess only a few hours before. Despite that he was treating her with courtesy and kindness. She supposed she ought to apologize.

  “Earlier today…I mean…”

  He turned to look at her.

  Oh dear, this was more difficult than she thought. She cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon for my rude behavior this afternoon, my lord. I had no right to call you a name.”

  “Why, Miss James, that’s the prettiest apology I have ever received. You make me feel very humble.” He grinned at her. “It takes a big man…ah, woman to admit when she is wrong.”

  “I didn’t say I was wrong,” she mumbled. “I apologized for speaking my thoughts.” She looked at him directly, defensively.

  “That’s all right.” He sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Are you really going to marry Mr. Morley?”

  “I’ve not said that,” she said hurriedly.

  “Then you’re not going to marry him?”

  She shot him an irritated glance. “My grandfather would like me to marry Roger.”

  “Why is Lord Whittingham pushing a marriage with him?”

  “Roger is his heir. I don’t think Grandfather likes him other than that. Sometimes I don’t think he likes him at all.”

  “I confess I’m mystified.”

  She shook her head. “You have a title and lands so I imagine you understand his feelings more than I. My grandfather is distressed that his title will be lost to another branch of the family. But if I marry Roger and have a son with him then the title and all that goes with it will come to my son and, therefore, my grandfather’s great-grandson. To Grandfath
er this will rectify the line of descent.”

  “I see,” Lord Sutherfield said. “Roger doesn’t mind?”

  “Roger has no spine. He will do as he is told. Grandfather has promised him the bulk of his money—if Roger marries me. If we don’t marry the opposite holds true.”

  “I see. What are you going to do?”

  Cassandra had no intention of marrying her cousin, but she didn’t know if it was wise to admit it right now.

  “Frankly, my lord, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

  The marquess took his attention from the road briefly, searching her features. “What happened to your father, your natural father, I mean?”

  “I never knew him. He died before I was born. But I consider Quintin James to be my father. I’ve listened to the story of my origins but it has little meaning for me.” She shifted restlessly on the seat, pulling at her muslin skirt with nervous fingers. “I know you’ve heard the rumors.

  “Rumors can be unreliable.”

  “True,” Cassandra allowed. “A detective appeared on my doorstep a few weeks ago, claiming I was the lost granddaughter of the Earl of Whittingham. Papers left after my mother’s death proved that to be the case.”

  “It must have come as a shock.”

  “Naturally, but I’m not going to let it change my life. I know who I am. Just because someone has changed the rules in the middle of the game doesn’t mean I intend to play it that way.”

  “Maybe you have no choice,” he said thoughtfully. “Sometimes one cannot change the outcome no matter how hard one tries.”

  Cassandra set her jaw in a stubborn line. “I’m going to return home as soon as possible, my lord. My grandfather wants to manage my life but I won’t let him do it.”

  Lord Sutherfield sent her a calculating look. “You’ve answered my original question. You do not intend to marry Morley.”

  “Why do you care what my intentions are?” she asked him testily.