In the Garden of Seduction (26 page)

“Cassandra, my dear, whom have we here?”
Quintin James asked.

Simon waited for the introductions to be
made, though he was bothered by Cassandra’s hesitation. She
stumbled through the obligatory words, giving the impression of one
who is uncomfortable. Therefore, the marquess expected the look of
consternation that glided over her father’s features. He was
unprepared for the critical inspection that followed.

Simon could never remember anyone without
rank openly observing him with such cool deliberation. He felt his
temper flare in response to Mr. James’ bold appraisal. Unfair, he
reminded himself. This was Cassandra’s father. He would be cautious
with any man who showed an interest in his daughter, regardless of
his position in society.

“How do you know Cassandra?” Mr. James
questioned, shaking Simon’s hand.

“We met while she stayed in the country with
Lord Whittingham.”

“I see. Have you met Lady Camden?” Mr.
James’ voice, though still not warm, at least was cordial. He
turned to his companion.

The lady stepped forward and took his hand,
and all at once Simon remembered where he knew her from.

An ironic smile touched the woman’s lips.
“Yes, that Lady Camden.”

The marquess did not bother to feign
ignorance, for that would only complicate an already uncomfortable
situation.

“My condolences, madam,” he offered.

“Thank you, Lord Sutherfield. You are most
kind. I’m happy to make your acquaintance. You are probably
unaware, but your mother and I have known each other for years.”
Lady Camden paused then, eyeing him shrewdly. “Are you and Miss
James good friends?”

Friends? That hardly described their
relationship. Simon could not stop the sudden memory of a moonlit
rose garden and the beautiful woman he had held in his arms. He
felt Cassandra stiffened beside him, as if she too were
remembering.

“Yes, friends,” he said simply.

“Then I have a favor to ask,” Lady Camden
continued. “Quintin and I have a problem, and perhaps you can help
us solve it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Mr. James put his hand on Lady Camden’s arm,
“Moretta, maybe we should…”

“Now, Quintin, doesn’t hurt to ask.” She
turned her attention back to Simon. “Miss James needs a sponsor.
She is quality and she should know her peers. Her father
agrees.”

“And I agree,” the marquess said quickly,
ignoring Cassandra’s appalled expression. “Though I don’t think it
is quite proper for me to—”

“Of course not, dear boy,” she interrupted.
“Actually, I wanted to do it myself, however, I’m not good
ton
with my husband having exited society in such a
disgraceful manner. Then there is my relationship with Mr.
James—well, you understand. My old friends are not exactly knocking
down my door. I’m afraid my sponsorship would do more harm than
good.”

Simon ventured a glance at Cassandra whose
face had gone as white as wax. He wanted to comfort her, but he was
of the opinion whatever Lady Camden hoped to arrange might be for
the best.

“I see. How can I be of service, ma’am?” the
marquess asked, still uncertain where the conversation was
leading.

Lady Camden smiled brightly. “You are here
with Lady Eastwick this evening?”

“As you see.” Simon indicated the box across
the way with a tilt of his head.

“Do you think your sister might be willing
to do the honors?”

“Your sister!” Cassandra squeaked, her hand
flying to her mouth. She stared at the marquess through wide
eyes.

Now he understood. Simon could hardly
control the desire to howl with delight. His Cassandra was jealous.
How marvelous!

“I think Lydia would be pleased,” he said
aloud, hiding his glee. “She loves to entertain.”

“Wait a minute—this is going too fast,”
Cassandra said in a flustered voice. “My grandfather will
help—”

“For heaven sakes, he’s a man,” Lady Camden
inserted. “Isn’t he at his country estate? Can’t do it from
there.”

“But he gave me a wonderful party when I
went to visit him, didn’t he, Simon—I mean, Lord Sutherfield?” She
must have been greatly disturbed to allow that slip of the tongue.
“I’ll wait until he returns to the city.” Cassandra turned a
tortured gaze on her father. “Papa, please!”

A moment of silence followed while Mr. James
studied his daughter. “I think it’s the thing to do, my dear,” he
said at last. “If Lady Eastwick is unable to help, we need to find
someone who can. It’s only right that you take your place in
society.”

“I can’t believe you are saying this, Papa.
I had hoped you of all people would understand.”

“I promise, Miss James, you will like my
sister. Lydia is superb even for a sister.” Simon smiled, keeping
his words calm and persuasive. “Give it a try. Nothing says you
must continue with your introduction to society if you find it
unpleasant. At least, don’t dismiss the opportunity out of
hand.”

“I’ll think about it,” Cassandra said. As if
done with the conversation, she moved to her seat and sat down. “I
believe the performance is about to begin.”

Simon watched the back of her lovely head
for a moment before returning his attention to her father. “I’m
happy to have met you, sir. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

This time the expression on Mr. James’ face
was friendly, almost warm. “Yes, my lord, I expect that’s
true.”

The marquess took his leave of Quintin James
and Lady Camden, whispering his goodbye so as not disturb
Cassandra. Her back to him made it clear how she felt, therefore,
he decided not to force the issue. Even so, he was willing to wager
she knew when he departed.

He stepped into the darkened corridor, empty
now because the opera had begun. He began the trek back to his own
box, all the while mentally preparing a plausible explanation for
Lydia. Lord help him if she chose not to aid his cause.

Simon felt like dancing through the passage.
He now had something concrete to work with, even if he couldn’t
take credit for it. Please, please, Lydia, don’t let me down, he
thought.

Simon was especially happy knowing Cassandra
had been jealous of his sister. That explained her frosty reception
tonight and proved she was not indifferent. Somewhere along the
line it had become very important that she care for him. Love might
be for the common folk but it made marriage more enjoyable.

Marriage—he shook his head, chuckling to
himself. Had his thinking really gone that far? He had avoided that
trap assiduously, and now he was embracing the idea. Strange what a
beautiful redhead could do to a man’s psyche.

Simon entered his box and slid into the seat
next to his sister. “I’m late. Sorry.”

“Quite all right, dear.” Lydia turned an
amused look on her sibling. “I saw you across the way. Your redhead
is a beauty. Is that Lady Camden with her?”

“Yes.”

“Who is the man?”

“Quintin James, Cassandra’s father.”

“Cassandra? That’s the young lady’s name?”
When he nodded, she continued, “I haven’t seen her before.”

Simon detected the question in her voice.
“It’s a very complicated story. Do you want it now or later?”

“Dear brother, I’m much too interested. If
this opera were more compelling perhaps I’d wait. But then again,
perhaps not.”

Simon laughed and proceeded to fill her in
on Cassandra’s history.

Lydia drew in a deep breath and exhaled
slowly. “Leave it to Moretta Camden to find a way to complicate my
life. It’s not entirely true that I like to entertain and you know
it, Simon.”

“I’m aware. That was a white lie, I’m sorry.
But it seemed the perfect chance to help Cassandra.”

“And yourself?”

“All right, I admit it,” he said in
exasperation. “I’ve already told you I want to marry the lady. If
you do this for me it will make the situation easier. Cassandra
doesn’t know what she wants at the moment. Despite that, I hope to
convince her.”

“You are considered a catch, Simon. Why do
you waste your time trying to convince someone who is
uncertain?”

The marquess sent his sister a look filled
with longing. “There’s no telling where the heart will decide to
love, Lydia. I had no idea this would happen as it has. But I have
to try. You see that, don’t you?”

Lydia placed her hand on her brother’s arm.
“I wanted to be certain you were truly serious. You know I will
help with whatever you need.”

Simon brightened immediately. “Thank you,”
he said, his chest tightening with gratitude.

“But first things first,” she cautioned.

“Anything.”

“I want to meet your young lady. Do what you
must but bring her to me. I can’t accomplish much if we don’t do
that.” Lydia returned her attention to the stage, lifting opera
glasses to her eyes. “I suppose I ought to watch the end of this
abomination in case someone asks me about it.”

Simon stared at the stage although his
thoughts were elsewhere. Often his attention drifted to the box
across the theater, but not once did he see Cassandra glancing in
his direction.

Lydia had given him a damnable chore. He
hadn’t planned beyond getting his sister’s cooperation and, now
that he had it, Simon wondered how he was going to get Cassandra’s
cooperation. If the lady’s attitude tonight were any indication, it
wasn’t going to be easy. Not easy at all.

*****

“I don’t want to see him.” Cassandra
flounced to the chair, and plopped on the seat.

Her father stood in the doorway to her
bedchamber, a frown beginning to furrow his features. “We have a
gentleman waiting in our drawing room who has asked to see you,
Cassandra. Is it really your wish to send a rude reply?”

“Couch it in any terms you like, Papa.”

“Cassandra, he is a marquess.”

That made her angry. “You make it sound as
if the title is the man. It makes no difference to me.”

He hesitated and his eyes took on an
assessing light. “Is there something you want to explain to me,
something I ought to know? After all, you are acquainted with him,
not I.”

She dropped her gaze to her hands, suddenly
unable to meet his probing stare. Was it fair to malign Simon? A
few choice words and the young lord downstairs would be out on his
ear, regardless of his rank. The perverse thought rankled her. Here
was the opportunity she needed, and all at once she didn’t want to
use it.

“I’ll see him,” Cassandra said grudgingly.
She stopped to run her fingers through mussed hair, resenting that
she felt the need to do so.

Her father smiled. “I’d have sent him away
if you had insisted, but I’m glad I didn’t have to do it.”

“Humph,” she grumbled, following him from
the room and down the stairs.

At the drawing room door, he spoke in her
ear. “Smile. You look very grim, you know.”

“I feel as grim as I look,” she snapped,
“and deception is not my specialty.” Cassandra pushed her way into
the room.

Lord Sutherfield stood facing the window to
the garden. He turned when they entered. “Miss James, I’m glad to
see you. Lovely as always,” he greeted her with a broad grin.

“You act as if we did not see each other
last night at the opera, my lord.”

“Cassandra!”

The shock in Quintin’s voice made her
cringe. “I beg your pardon, Lord Sutherfield. I must seem rude if
my father disapproves.” As much as she tried to make the apology
sound sincere, Cassandra suspected she fell short of her goal.

Simon’s lids drooped but he did not hide his
amusement. “Miss James, please not to worry. I’m impossible to
offend.”

“A bald-faced truth, my lord,” she said,
then laughed.

Immediately, she regretted her loss of
composure, for her merriment lifted the constraint in the room, and
she didn’t want to become too comfortable. Whenever she relaxed,
the marquess took the upper hand.

Her father stirred restlessly as though the
drift of the conversation confused him. His next words confirmed
this. “Is there a jest here I’m not privy to? I sense anger, then
humor. Which is it?”

“Probably a little of both, Mr. James,” the
marquess said in a wry voice. “Miss James and I seem to be at cross
purposes most of the time. I think it’s because she refuses to like
me as much as I want her to.”

“Excuse me?” Quintin James stared at his
guest. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yes, Mr. James, I am. I would like to court
your daughter. You will want to become acquainted with me before
you make any definite decisions, but I prefer an honest
approach.”

Cassandra had had enough. “I’ve a mind of my
own, Lord Sutherfield. Perhaps I don’t want you to court me.”

Quintin backed away, his arms stretched out
in front of him as though he were warding off the feuding couple.
“I can see Lord Sutherfield and you are in need of an earnest
discussion, Cassandra. I will leave you both alone but I take my
duties as chaperon seriously. I’ll be across the hall.” He eased
out of the room, leaving the door open. “Frankly,” he could be
heard muttering to himself, “the way those two are going at it, I
don’t expect anything to happen unless it’s a brawl.”

Cassandra glared at the marquess. When she
felt certain her father could no longer overhear their
conversation, she broke the tense silence.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m wooing you, sweetheart. Do you like
it?”

“The devil you say,” she countered
hotly.

“Such language from a lady.” He winked at
her.

“It’s my father you’re wooing and you know
it. You want him on your side.”

He grinned. “Is it working do you
think?”

“Of course not. In the end he will listen to
me. I didn’t tell him what a scoundrel you are, but now I think I
will. If he understood, he wouldn’t leave me alone with you for
even a moment.” She liked that threat and she smiled at him
smugly.