Snowbound With The Baronet (6 page)

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Authors: Deborah Hale

Tags: #Romance, #England, #Love Story, #Regency Romance, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Snowbound With The Baronet
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Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra saw Sir Brandon rise from his place among the men. Hard as she tried to focus her full attention on his cousin, her pulse began to race and her flesh buzzed with heightened awareness as he strolled toward them.

The intervening years had done nothing to make him
less
attractive—quite the contrary. His features had grown sharper and bolder, his bearing more assured. No doubt his military service had challenged him in a way no woman ever could. Cassandra was certain he had risen to the challenge admirably.

If only they
were
meeting for the first time today, as he had asked her to pretend, without the troubles of the past to spoil their acquaintance...

What then?
Reason demanded. Even if they had never met before, how could she begin to compete for his attention against so many ladies in Society who were younger and more vivacious? Ladies who possessed generous dowries and were not encumbered with family responsibilities? Even if, by some miracle, he did prefer her to all of them, how could she agree to a union where all the advantage would accrue to her, with nothing but burdens upon him?

In spite of those considerations, when Brandon Calvert sank onto the window seat beside his cousin, Cassandra’s heart seemed to quiver in her chest rather than beat.

“I hope you ladies do not object to my company.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur that fell on Cassandra’s ears like a secret caress. “I admire a fine horse as much as the next man, but I can only converse about the creatures for so long.
Any
other subject would be most diverting.”

“Lady Cassandra and I were talking about London,” his cousin informed him. “She hopes to bring her youngest sister out for the Season.”

“If not this year, then certainly next.” Cassandra’s gaze faltered before Sir Brandon’s. “Perhaps by then the war will be over and there will be a bumper crop of returning officers seeking wives.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she wished she could take them back.

“Like my cousin.” Miss Calvert gave a trill of high-pitched laughter. “He is fortunate to have resigned his commission early and beat the rush. But you must not count on him as a suitor for your sister. If I have any influence in the matter, he will be married well before she makes her debut.”

Cassandra struggled to hide her dismay. She reminded herself that she wanted Brandon to be happy in the way a loving wife and family could make him. Yet the thought of him belonging to another woman gnawed at her heart. The notion of having him as the husband of her beloved younger sister threatened a lifetime of grief she could not bear to contemplate.

In response to his cousin’s remark, Sir Brandon’s handsome mouth tightened. “I do not need anyone matchmaking on my behalf, Imogene.”

Was he referring to
her
as well? Cassandra resented the notion. Did he suppose for one moment she would push her sister at him after having previously refused his offer of marriage?

Perhaps Sir Brandon repented his severity, for he seemed to make an effort to moderate his tone. “I shall be the one trying to find
you
a suitable husband among the gentlemen at Everleigh, as I promised your mother I would.”

Miss Calvert wrinkled her delicate nose. “I wish your idea of a suitable husband was closer to mine.”

“There is more to a good match than a title, a fortune and a handsome face,” her cousin insisted. “Don’t you agree, Lady Cassandra?”

If he had doused her with a pitcher of ice water, he could not have caught Cassandra off-guard any worse.

“I... er...” she sputtered, vexed with him for putting her on the spot. Was this his idea of behaving like new acquaintances? “Having never been married, I am hardly qualified to offer an opinion.”

She concluded her reply with a faint note of triumph. She had managed to evade the verbal trap Sir Brandon had set for her. However, if she expected him to let her off so easily, Cassandra soon realized she was mistaken.

“A very diplomatic answer.” His blue eyes flashed with good-natured mockery. “You were not always so judicious with your opinions on any subject, regardless of your personal experience.”

“Perhaps I have grown more prudent with my advancing years,” she quipped back. This reminded her of the way they had once bantered during their courtship.

“That would be a pity. Your boldness was one of the things I always admired about you.” Sir Brandon’s lips arched into a half-smile which had a sweetly devastating effect upon Cassandra.

It made her want to shove his cousin out of the way, lunge at him across the window seat and kiss him breathless.

Fortunately, Imogene Calvert broke in on their exchange before Cassandra lost her head entirely. The girl sounded vexed that they were not paying sufficient attention to her. “I expect Lady Cassandra agrees with me, but does not wish to offend you, dear Bran. A man like Lord Alanham, with a fortune, a title and good looks would make a splendid catch. I cannot think why you do not approve of him.”

Cassandra’s gaze flew to lock with Sir Brandon’s. She recalled Lord Alanham from her time in London Society. Did poor Miranda still secretly pine for
her
former suitor the way Cassandra had for hers?

Lord Alanham? The mere mention of that name drove the beginning of a smile from Brandon’s face, as if he had bitten into an apple and found it full of worms.

When he detected a flicker of recognition in Cassandra’s dark eyes, his features settled into a scowl. Prior to her unexpected rejection of his proposal, the only point of friction between them had been his persistent disapproval of her sister’s suitor.

In response to Imogene and Cassandra’s stares, he muttered something vague about not judging a book by its cover.

Every lady of their acquaintance considered Lord Alanham perfectly charming, just as all their schoolmasters once had. But Brandon had glimpsed another side of his old schoolmate. As a consequence, he would never trust the fellow. But honor forbade him to tarnish the reputation of even his worst enemy without solid evidence of wrongdoing.

Could it be his antagonism toward such a seemingly agreeable gentleman that had soured Lady Cassandra’s feelings for him? If so, it increased his dislike of Alanham even further.

He braced for her to join his cousin in defending the fellow.

“Social standing and financial security are advantages any sensible woman must consider when she contemplates marriage.” Lady Cassandra’s tone sounded defensive. “And a handsome face is not to be sneered at.”

Brandon had expected her to offer just such an opinion. Yet that did not diminish the sting of hearing her praise a man he detested. He prepared to contradict her.

But before he could summon the words, Lady Cassandra continued, “However one must not forget that position and wealth can be lost and time will take its toll on even the handsomest face. A kind heart and honorable character are advantages that will last and even improve with age.”

Brandon’s jaw fell slack, though perhaps that was better than grinning like a fool.

“Forgive me, Miss Calvert!” Lady Cassandra’s attractive features twisted into a rueful grimace. “I did not mean to subject you to a sermon or a lecture. It seems I am still as opinionated as your cousin accused me of being, even when I have no experience upon which to base my beliefs.”

“I did not accuse you!” Brandon protested, though he sensed she was only teasing. “I reckon your opinion is a very sound one.”

“Of course you do.” Imogene rolled her eyes. “Because it agrees perfectly with yours. If I did not know better, I would think you had coached Lady Cassandra. Besides, who is to say Lord Alanham does not possess those other qualities as well? I wonder if people sometimes think ill of those who are more popular and attractive out of jealousy.”

Did some part of his dislike of Lord Alanham spring from envy? Brandon’s conscience refused to grant him more latitude than it would to anyone else. On the contrary, it was far harder on him. Unable to defend himself in case he might not deserve it, he met his cousin’s charge with silence.

Not so Lady Cassandra. “Surely you cannot suppose your cousin has any reason to envy Lord Alanham on point of looks, Miss Calvert. And if he does not have quite such a wide circle of friends, everyone who has the honor of acquaintance with him holds him in the highest esteem.”

Her voice rang with righteous indignation that left Brandon pleasantly bemused. These hardly sounded like the sentiments of a lady for a suitor she had spurned. If he did not know better, he might suspect Cassandra Whitney held him in
more
than high esteem.

But he did know better, his sense of caution reminded him. He’d once fooled himself into believing she felt more for him than she had. It was not a mistake he intended to make again, no matter how great the temptation.

“Of course I wasn’t referring to my cousin.” Imogene performed a rapid turnabout. “I only meant to express my surprise that he would discourage me from thinking of his lordship in that way.”

Brandon hoped Imogene would not turn the conversation back to the subject of his marriage prospects. It had provoked him to a state of near-panic earlier, when he’d feared she might mention his intentions toward Isabella Reynolds. Though he had not confided his plans to ask for the lady’s hand, Imogene seemed to sense his interest went beyond casual flirtation.

But what would it matter if Lady Cassandra learned he had a new sweetheart? Brandon’s heart balked at using that word in connection with Miss Reynolds. He liked the lady and considered her a safe, suitable choice for a wife. His feelings for her were not clouded by sentiment any more than hers were for him. His feelings for Lady Cassandra were quite another matter... or could be if he did not keep them well under control. Hopefully he would not have to exercise that control long enough for it to be severely tested.

“Come now, Imogene,” he said, “It is not polite for us to monopolize the conversation. What of you, Lady Cassandra, will there be a gentleman or two at Noughtly Hall who might meet your high standards and merit a little encouragement on your part?”

Perhaps if he knew she had a suitor waiting for her, it would prevent his thoughts from straying in directions they should not.

“Gentlemen at Noughtly?” Lady Cassandra shook her head. “I would be more likely to see a unicorn! But you are right to accuse me of having high standards. Far higher than I merit, no doubt. That may be why I am so firmly on the shelf.”

She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. Did it carry a faint undertone of regret, Brandon wondered, or was he only hearing what he wanted to hear?

“You do not look
that
old,” Imogene assured Lady Cassandra in a patronizing tone that set her cousin’s teeth on edge. “I am certain there must be plenty of gentlemen who would be delighted to marry you.”

Brandon bit his tongue to keep from agreeing, for fear he might sound too eager. That would never do when he was on his way to propose to another woman.

“That is kind of you, Miss Calvert.” The corners of Lady Cassandra’s lips arched upward in a tormented parody of a smile. “But I would far rather have no husband than the wrong one. There is nothing so capable of destroying one’s happiness as a miserable marriage. I may not be able to speak from experience but...”

At that moment, Mr. Martin concluded an amusing story which drew a great swell of laughter from the other men.

It drowned out the rest of Lady Cassandra’s words except to Brandon, who had leaned forward with his ears poised to catch them, “... I certainly can from observation.”

Did she mean what he thought she meant? Brandon knew her late father had been married at least three times. The odds that one of those unions had been unhappy were high, if his family’s experience was anything to judge by. Why had Lady Cassandra never mentioned it to him during their courtship?

For an instant he was inclined to resent her reticence. Then he recalled that he had never told her any of his family’s secrets, either. During their courtship, they had formed as close an acquaintance as propriety allowed. Usually her stepmother or some other respectable chaperone hovered nearby. That was hardly conducive to soul-baring. Besides, he had wanted her to think well of him and not shy away from marrying into a family whose respectable façade concealed a shameful underside. Was it possible she had found out somehow or guessed the truth? Could that be the true reason she had refused to wed him?

Those questions plagued Brandon and made him wish he’d gotten to know her better. But there could be no opportunity for that now. For the sake of peace, they had agreed to behave like new acquaintances who knew nothing about one another.

When the other men’s laughter subsided, the group on the window seat resumed their conversation. By unspoken consent, they confined themselves to impersonal subjects. Brandon’s sense of caution approved, but his curiosity itched to learn more about Lady Cassandra Whitney than she had revealed to him during their decorous courtship.

Chapter Five

W
HAT A STRANGE
dream she’d had.

As Cassandra groped toward consciousness the next morning, she recalled the details with intense clarity. She’d been on her way to Noughtly Hall when she suddenly found herself storm-stayed with Sir Brandon Calvert.

Her imagination lingered on the sharp contours of his features and the deep, constant blue of his eye. She had dreamed of him before but always looking as he had when she’d last seen him. How had she managed to picture the way he might have matured in four years?

With a self-indulgent sigh, she tried to sink back into her dream and enjoy Sir Brandon’s company for a little longer. But the waking world began to intrude. This bed did not feel like the one she shared with Vi. She was not wearing a nightgown, but the shift she wore beneath her dress during the day. Had she and Mrs. Davis reached Noughtly Hall? How strange that she could not recall it when her snowbound dream was so clear in her mind.

But if she had arrived at Noughtly, her sleeping sister should not be snuggled against her providing welcome warmth.

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