Seduction on a Snowy Night Page 15

  “Don’t be absurd. We would never play a ‘grand joke’ on Douglas when he’s off fighting for his country.” She crossed her arms over her bosom. Her very attractive bosom. “I suppose you’re just angry that you were fooled, too. But we didn’t know you had anything to do with it, or perhaps we wouldn’t have continued it for so long. In fact, I’d greatly appreciate it if you would keep our subterfuge secret now, too. And not tell Kitty that I revealed it to you. I promised her I wouldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t discuss it tonight.” She looked back at the maid and lowered her voice. “I’m exhausted, and thanks to a certain individual, I won’t even get to sleep in my own bed. So I hope you’ll forgive me, my lord, if I retire.”

  “Of course, my lady,” he said, matching her tone as he made an exaggerated bow. “By all means.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed her lips before she squelched it. “Thank you.” Then she curtseyed and went into the bedchamber, closing the door behind her.

  He stood frozen a long moment, shaking his head. Never had he met a more infuriating female. Or a more fascinating one.

  Cursing himself for that unwise thought, he marched downstairs to his own bedchamber. Bad enough that the woman he desired—the one with smoky gray eyes and golden-brown curls escaping her hairpins—was the one who wasn’t an heiress. But now that he’d let himself get carried away kissing Cass, he would have a hard time settling for Kitty.

  He would have to start to put some distance between himself and Cass. And start focusing on Kitty. He would do that tomorrow.

  Too bad he couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses.

  Chapter 5

  Cass awoke very late, no surprise there. With a certain gentleman’s kisses filling one’s head, it was hard to fall asleep. By the time she’d slipped into slumber, it had been near dawn. Now she felt like a slugabed.

  All of a sudden, she sensed someone watching her. She turned her head to the door and saw Kitty peeking around the corner of it.

  “Oh, thank heavens you’re finally awake!” Kitty cried. “I thought you were going to sleep all day. I’ve looked in on you half a dozen times at least!”

  Cass sighed. There were days when her cousin’s boundless energy wore on her. This was one of those days.

  She rolled over to put her back to the door. “Go away,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t mind her,” Kitty said. “She’s always grumpy in the morning. She doesn’t mean it. Come on in.”

  The realization that Kitty was talking to someone else made Cass bolt upright in the bed and catch the covers up to her neck. What the devil?

  Then, with a mixture of disappointment and relief, she realized the person Kitty was ushering in wasn’t Heywood but a young woman holding a breakfast tray. Of course it was—even Kitty wouldn’t be so foolish as to usher a man into Cass’s bedchamber. And Cass wasn’t disappointed that the person wasn’t Heywood. Not in the least.

  Liar.

  Kitty plopped down on the end of the bed. “Gwyn, this is Cass. Cass, this is Gwyn, Heywood’s half sister.”

  She’d already guessed that. Gwyn was a younger version of her mother, only taller. And with green eyes instead of blue. But she had the same jaw as her mother and Heywood, the same crooked smile, and the same nose.

  Gwyn was gazing on Cass with a bemused expression. “Lovely to meet you. I would apologize for having been party to your cousin’s waking you from your slumber except that Kitty has spent the past two hours singing your praises and making me positively eager to meet you.”

  “Kitty has a tendency to gush about the people she loves,” Cass said. “Don’t get her started on her brother, Douglas.”

  “Too late,” Gwyn said with a smile. “But we already knew about Douglas, since Heywood sings his praises, too.”

  Cass would have remarked on that if not for the welcome aroma that had captured her attention. “You wouldn’t by any chance have coffee on that tray, would you?”

  “I would, indeed,” Gwyn said as she set the tray on the table next to the bed. “Kitty made it clear that you prefer coffee to tea. Just like Heywood, as a matter of fact, although he claims that his preference comes from serving in the army for so many years. You aren’t by any chance a secret member of the Twenty-Fifth Hussars, are you?”

  Cass laughed as she poured a cup and then added cream. “No.” She could see she was going to like Gwyn. “And if I were, I wouldn’t admit it. How could it remain secret otherwise?”

  Gwyn chuckled, but Kitty was not amused. “Hurry up and eat your breakfast,” she said. “Heywood has invited us to go dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh!”

  “Where on earth is Heywood getting a sleigh?” Cass asked.

  “Papa brought ours from Prussia,” Gwyn explained as Cass ate a slice of buttered toast and sipped coffee. “Sleighs are common there, so Mama tried to talk him out of bringing it here by pointing out that it never gets cold enough in England to use one. But he swore that Lincolnshire had plenty of winter weather.” She gestured to the window. “Apparently he was right.”

  Cass took her coffee over to the window so she could look out. “Heavens,” she whispered. “That’s quite a wonderland of snow, isn’t it? Almost as much as we get farther north.”

  “Yes,” Kitty said, her voice trembling, “so we can’t go home anytime soon. It’s quite concerning.” Then she brightened. “But it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you. So get dressed.”

  “In what? My ball gown and dancing slippers?” Cass asked, though she too would love a ride in a sleigh.

  “No need to worry about that,” Gwyn said. “Mama and I have pulled together some clothes for you two, since we’ve pretty much got both heights covered. And if neither of you shares our shoe sizes, we’ll borrow boots from a servant who does.”

  With that, Cass and Kitty had two maids trooping in and out, bringing riding habits and walking gowns and whatever the well-dressed lady might need for a jaunt outdoors.

  Before long, Cass, Gwyn, and Kitty were dressed in riding habits as they headed downstairs to the coat closet to find warm outer garments. As soon as they’d chosen cloaks and scarves, they were joined by Heywood and his brother Sheridan, the Duke of Armitage. Cass would have known the duke anywhere since he was a thinner, more serious version of Heywood, with greener eyes and browner hair. Heywood performed the introductions, though it seemed to Cass that the duke was too distracted to pay them much mind.

  Heywood, however, seemed cheerful, and he looked quite different in daylight. Now she could see that his brown hair was actually sun streaked and, like his tanned skin, spoke to his long sojourn in Portugal. Last night it had also been too dim, even in Armitage Hall, to see that his eyes were of a hazel so warm it mirrored his smile.

  So warm that it made her heart race, which couldn’t possibly be healthy.

  “I trust that you ladies slept well?” Heywood asked, though he was staring right at her, turning her insides to mush.

  Before she could answer, Sheridan snorted. “I’m not sure how anyone sleeps well during an abduction.”

  Her gaze narrowed in on Kitty, who blushed. “I-I know we weren’t supposed to say anything, but I was tired and the duchess was so kind. . . .”

  Heywood gave a rueful shake of his head. “Turns out you were right, Cass. Mother got the truth out of her. This morning the entire family threatened me with bodily harm if either of you finds yourself embroiled in scandal as a result of my actions.”

  “But they know the situation, right?” Cass asked, unaccountably disturbed at the idea of his family criticizing him.

  “We do,” Sheridan put in. “And we’re more than happy to support the tale that you and your cousin were coming home from the ball when you were caught in the snowstorm.” He stared at his brother. “Are you certain Malet won’t ruin their reputations by revealing the truth?”

  “Not until he’s sure he’s lost any chance with Kitty. And since he kn
ows by now that I took them, he also knows that I will tear him apart publicly if he even attempts to smear them. I know his secrets, too, after all.”

  Kitty smiled weakly. “At least we’ll get a sleigh ride out of this mad affair, right, Cass?”

  “Indeed.”

  “The two of you are far too forgiving,” Gwyn said. “If it had been me, I would have entered this house screeching bloody murder.”

  “We know, Sis,” Heywood said dryly. “You screech bloody murder if Thorn cuts your allowance by a single guinea.”

  “Not true!” she said in mock protest. “It has to be two guineas at the very least.”

  Sheridan rolled his eyes. “On that note, I believe I will go.”

  “You’re not joining us for the sleigh ride?” Gwyn asked.

  “Afraid not. I have too much work to do. The sleigh only fits two, anyway, and Heywood is more than happy to carry each of you around one at a time.”

  Gwyn sniffed. “I don’t need Heywood to drive a sleigh. I can drive one of our guests around myself.”

  “Ooh, take me!” Kitty cried. “You said you would show me the ruins.”

  Cass stifled a groan. That left her to ride with Heywood alone. What the devil was her cousin up to now?

  “If we’re going to the ruins,” Gwyn told Kitty, “we’ll need much warmer outer garments than we’d planned.”

  “In that case, while you and Kitty paw through the closet some more, Cass and I will take the first go-around.” Heywood looked at Cass. “That’s assuming you didn’t have your heart set on touring the ruins, too.”

  “I merely want to see how the snow looks in sunlight. And to test your sleigh’s mettle, of course. I don’t care about the ruins.”

  He grinned. “That’s good, since I have no clue how to find them. After all, I’ve only been at Armitage Hall a few days.”

  “Why, sir,” Cass teased him, “I believe you’re the first man in England to admit that he gets lost occasionally.”

  “Oh, don’t let him fool you!” Gwyn called out from the coat closet. “He’s as irritable as any other fellow when his navigational prowess is challenged. He used to drag us all over Berlin—on foot, mind you—while insisting he knew where he was going.”

  “I did know where I was going,” Heywood said, sparing a wink for Cass. “You lot simply couldn’t appreciate the value of taking the scenic route in order to tour the city.”

  Gwyn emerged from the closet with a fur muff in one hand and a wool scarf in the other, which she held out to Cass. “You’ll probably need these, too, especially if Heywood decides to take any ‘scenic routes’ in the sleigh. It’s cold outside.”

  As Cass wrapped the scarf about her neck and put her hands in the muff, Heywood snorted. “You’re just jealous that I’m a better driver than you, Gwyn.”

  “In your dreams,” she said gaily. “You’re only saying that because we don’t own a second sleigh. If we did, I’d race you and make you eat those words.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” he murmured to Cass as Gwyn returned to the closet. “She can’t drive a gig, much less a sleigh.”

  “I heard that!” Gwyn called out.

  He was still chuckling as he led Cass out the door. She was smiling herself. His banter with Gwyn made her wish she had an older brother. Her cousin Douglas wouldn’t suffice—he was her age and hadn’t been home in years. But she could tell from watching the duchess’s children that they were comfortable with one another. Loved one another. It made her wish she’d had siblings of her own.

  Then Heywood placed a hand in the small of her back to help her into the sleigh, and all thought vanished into the ether. Goodness. She was glad she’d chosen a very thick cloak for their jaunt. Otherwise, the warmth from his hand would melt her clear to her toes.

  Her reaction to him was foolish, really. He couldn’t possibly have any real interest in her, those kisses notwithstanding. Why, he probably kissed women like that all the time. But still, the thought of riding beside him left her breathless.

  That would not do. The last time she gave her heart to a man, she’d had it badly battered. So this time she must take better care of it. Which was difficult when Heywood joined her in the sleigh, his hard body right up against hers. Had his brother said that the sleigh only fitted two? He’d lied. It only fitted one and a half, particularly when one of the people was a heavily muscled army officer. She and Heywood were squeezed so tightly together that she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

  Good Lord. Her blood was pumping just at the sensation of being pressed to him, no matter how chastely.

  He must have felt it, too, for he refused to look at her as they glided down the drive between two snow-covered lawns toward a line of birches that separated the estate from the main road. The sleigh bells jingled merrily and the horse trotted sure-footedly along the drive.

  “Where are we going?” Cass asked as they neared the main road.

  Now that they were alone together, he looked somber. “You’ll see. It’s not far.” He dragged in a heavy breath. “So why don’t you tell me how you came to be writing the letters from Kitty to her brother?”

  Devil take it. She’d hoped he’d forgotten. “It’s . . . um . . . rather complicated.”

  “All the best deceptions are,” he said coldly.

  “It wasn’t like that.” Cass debated how much to reveal. But if she were to convince him to keep the secret on Kitty’s behalf, she should probably tell him all of it. “Back when Douglas first left home, Kitty was only eight. She’d had trouble learning to read and write as it was, but she desperately wanted to correspond with her brother, to cheer him up.”

  Cass stared down at the muff encasing her hands. “She tried to do it herself, but her handwriting was illegible, her grammar was abominable, and she didn’t know what to say.”

  “Douglas would have understood, I’m sure. She was still a child, after all.”

  “A child whose father had rigid standards for his children that she couldn’t meet. Since I was four years older than she, I sort of took over the duties of a governess.”

  “At twelve?”

  She shrugged. “I convinced him that I was perfectly capable of schooling Kitty. That way she and I could hide the fact that she . . . had problems with learning.” Realizing she sounded disloyal, she added hastily, “Kitty is the sweetest, most generous woman you could ever meet, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that she’s not, well—”

  “Very bright.”

  Cass sighed. “The trouble was, she was still terrified of disappointing her father and mortified by her difficulties with writing. She always had to give the letters to him to be franked, and he always took the liberty of reading them.”

  “So you took over her correspondence to make sure she appeared to be clever.”

  “Exactly.”

  His face showed none of what he was thinking. “But Squire Nickman has been dead now for two years. Surely you could have explained all of this to Douglas.”

  “And have him know that it wasn’t really his sister writing him so faithfully? Have her suffer the humiliation of having her flaws discovered? I couldn’t do that to her. After her father died, she started to blossom. Where she would hardly speak in his presence, she now voices her opinions readily to anyone who will listen.”

  “Rather like you.”

  She eyed him balefully. “My point is, she has become a different woman since her father’s death. She’s not nearly as self-conscious. Besides, once we’d embarked on that scheme, it was difficult to go back. It didn’t seem necessary to trouble Douglas with the depth of our deception while he was away fighting for our country.” She shifted to look up at him. “Why does it matter to you? Why do you act as if you have somehow been betrayed?”

  “You’ll understand shortly,” he said, though his expression gave away nothing.

  They pulled onto the main road instead of touring the estate as she’d expected. Unencumbered by ruts or other carriages, the sl
eigh fairly flew along. A short while later, they turned down a different drive, headed for another house.

  Heywood drew up in front of the smaller, run-down home as if he knew it well. Crumbling cornices, missing roof tiles, overgrown ivy tipped with snow, and front steps in disrepair were signs that its owner had deserted it.

  “What is this place?” she asked. “It isn’t the ruins Gwyn was referring to, is it?”

  He gave a choked laugh. “No. Those are just manufactured to look that way. These ruins are real—the manor house of my estate, Hawkcrest.”

  “Your estate?” she said, hardly able to credit it.

  He gazed upon the house as if torn between pride and despair. “My father left it to me after his mother, my grandmother, left it to him. It was always the property given to the second son, and as such was unentailed. I’m told it used to be quite fine.” Drawing a folded paper out of his greatcoat pocket, he handed it to her. “You can get some sense of how it looked then from this.”

  Wary of his solemn mood, she opened the sheet of paper to find a sketch of a lovely Palladian home, with pretty gardens nearby and ivy growing up its walls of red brick. “How different it was!”

  “Years of neglect have reduced it to a shambles. Uncle Armie was supposed to be taking care of it for my father while we were abroad, but clearly he chose to ignore it.” He faced her, bitterness etched in his features. “Of course, he didn’t mind pocketing the rents he was supposed to use in maintaining the house.”

  “Rents? It has tenants?”

  Dragging in a heavy breath, he nodded. “He neglected to repair their homes as well. Bloody arse.” He caught himself. “Excuse my language. It’s just that each time I look on it, I’m hit by anger and despair all over again.”

  “I can understand that,” she said. “It’s unconscionable for anyone to neglect a pretty place like this.”

  He smiled at her. “Would you like to see the inside?”

  “Oh, yes!” She paused. “As long as timbers won’t rain down on me, that is.”