The Accidental Countess (12 page)

Cass turned to face Lucy with wide eyes. “What do you think? Garrett and Owen!”

“Garrett won’t be an issue.” Lucy went back to perusing the menu. “I don’t think pickled beets sound good at all. Do you, Jane?”

Jane sat on the sofa in the center of the room wearing a light blue day dress. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and glanced up from her book. “Not at all.” She shuddered.

“Apparently, Mother adores them. Why am I not surprised?” Lucy rolled her eyes and drew a line through the pickled beets.

“Forget the pickled beets!” Cass tossed her hands in the air. “I must think. Garrett
will
be an issue. Lord Berkeley says Garrett knows we’re over here. He’s not stupid. He must have guessed we’re up to something, especially if Berkeley told him about the false identities. It’s not possible Garrett is going to stay away.”

“I’m afraid she’s right, Luce,” Jane replied. “I’ve little doubt Upton will be over here the minute he can put his horses to.”

Lucy waved her quill in the air as if brushing away the matter. “Garrett doesn’t scare me one bit. We’ll just tell him something to keep him quiet.”

“Something? What something? And what about Owen?” Cass viciously tugged at her gloves.

“Stop it, Cass. You’re going to ruin that perfectly lovely kid leather. And as for Owen, there’s absolutely no reason why he would come here. Lord Berkeley was quite certain he hadn’t mentioned the party to Owen.” She turned back to face Jane. “What do you think about pears?”

“Pickled pears?” Jane asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No. Just pears,” Lucy replied.

Jane shrugged. “As long as they’re not pickled, I’ve no objection.”

Cass stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to throttle both of them. “It’s not that simple. I think we need to go to Garrett, find him, tell him what’s going on, and secure his promise to help us.”

This time Jane didn’t look up from her book. “Best of luck with that.” She snorted.

Lucy tapped her quill against her cheek. “Actually, Cass may have a point. It may be a problem if Garrett just barges in here and begins asking questions.”

At her friends’ silence Jane looked up to see them both staring at her. “What are you looking at me for?”

“You have to do it, Janie,” Cass began.

Jane snapped her book closed and let it fall to the cushion beside her. “You must be jesting.”

“No. I’m not. It has to be you.” Cass resumed both her pacing and her glove tugging in front of the fireplace.

“Why me?” Jane asked.

“Because Lucy cannot leave her own house party, and Garrett won’t listen to her in any case.”

“Oh, thank you, Cass,” Lucy said.

“You know it’s true,” Cass replied.

Jane’s eyes were wide. “And you think he’ll listen to
me
?”

Cass flew over to the sofa and kneeled at her friend’s feet. “Don’t you see? You have the best chance of convincing him, Jane. You’re so good at arguing your point and you’re so clever and wise and—”

Jane smiled at her and patted her cheek. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re merely attempting to flatter me in order to get me to do your bidding.”

“Yes. I am,” Cass agreed, nodding. “But it’s true.”

Jane tugged Cass by the hand and pulled her up to sit next to her. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. “I truly have no earthly idea what you think I might possibly say to Upton of all people to get him to agree to go along with any of this.”

“You must at least try, Janie. Won’t you try, for me?” Cass asked, batting her eyelashes at Jane innocently.

“It is your turn,” Lucy added, abandoning the menu. “I seem to remember the last time such a mission came up, I was forced to go to Derek’s town house in Bath and tell him that Cass was sick.”

“Yes. And look how that ended,” Jane replied. “With you married to him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucy replied. “It’s not as if
you’re
going to marry Garrett.”

Jane nodded once. “Precisely why I should not be the one to go. Thank you, you’ve proved my point.”

“Janie, don’t listen to her, you may marry Garrett if you wish,” Cass replied with a small laugh.

Jane tossed her hands in the air. “I do not have any intention of marrying Upton. For heaven’s sake, I—”

Cass put up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m only jesting, Jane. Please. Please try. I’ll have Lucy’s coach put to for you. Go over there, visit him, see what he’s up to. Try to find out if he truly intends to come over here. Oh, and ask him to convince Owen to stay away, too, if you please.”

Jane breathed hard through her teeth. “If I go over there, I’m going to confess to everything and bribe him to keep silent. I am much more comfortable with a direct approach.”

Lucy scooped up the menu again, and Cass smiled and patted Jane’s hand. “Sounds divine. Use whatever means of persuasion you must.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cass hugged her shawl close to her shoulders and popped open the French doors that led to the terrace. She had to get away from the group of partygoers in the house. It was a beautiful autumn evening. A bit of a chill hung in the air but the stars twinkled overhead like a row of diamonds in the black velvet sky. The smell of freshly fallen leaves whispered through the wind.

Cass glanced back into the brightly lit house. It was all so unreal. Like being trapped in a play. Everyone was calling her Miss Bunbury. She’d nearly begun to believe that was her name. With every mention of the false name, all she could think about was how she was a liar. She had to get out of there, and just breathe.

She strolled out into the night and gazed up at the stars. Then she followed a few of the stone steps down into the gardens. There were candles there, sprinkled throughout the pebbled pathways. Cass made her way to her favorite stone bench and sat down. She leaned back and took a deep breath, and then another. In addition to the leaves, the crisp air smelled of burning logs. The light wind ruffled the curls at her temples.

She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined … How would everything be in two weeks’ time? Surely, this entire farce would be over by then. Would Julian and Pen be planning their wedding? Would Julian hate Cass for her duplicity? She shook her head and took another deep breath.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The deep male voice wafted on the cool breeze.

Cass started, and her eyes flew open, but she already knew who it was. She’d memorized his voice. Julian was standing there, not ten paces away, crushing out a cheroot beneath his boot.

“Oh, no, Ju … Captain Swift, not at all.”

He strode closer. The candlelight highlighted the deep planes of his cheeks, glinted off his steely gray eyes. “May I?” He gestured to the bench.

Cass gulped. “Of course.”

He slid onto the bench next to her, bracing his palms on the cold stone. The warmth of his body so near her own sent a shiver down her spine. There was that scent again, too, clean and strong and … Julian.

“Enjoying this fine weather?” he asked, shaking her from her thoughts. And just as well. Surely, he’d be suspicious if he found Miss Patience Bunbury sniffing at his coat, not that she hadn’t considered it.

Cass straightened her shoulders and pulled her shawl tight. “Yes. I felt it was entirely too warm in the house just now. I do so love the outdoors.”

“I do, too,” Julian said. “Especially in the country. I’ve been waiting years to sit outside at night like this in the English countryside.”

Cass nodded.
I know.
He’d mentioned it in his letters. She’d memorized them, knew each of them by heart.
“My fondest dream is to sit under the stars in the country, breathe the fresh air, and not worry about death and destruction and war.”
That particular bit had been in a letter he’d written to her perhaps two years ago. It had been winter.

“The war must’ve been awful for you,” she ventured. Of course it had been awful for him. Cass knew that. But Patience didn’t. Or would she guess?
Excellent. Patience is a nitwit
.

Julian pulled his hands from the bench, braced them on his knees, and stared off into the darkened hedges. “I was one of the fortunate ones.”

Cass swallowed. It still hurt to think about how close he’d come to never returning. “Because you lived?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper.

“Yes, because I came back.” He paused for a moment, closed his eyes, breathed the night air. “It was not my plan.”

Cass wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?” It was not his plan? He’d never mentioned anything like that in his letters.

He opened his eyes again and shook his head. He smiled slightly but it was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The one he used in ballrooms and public places where people asked him too many questions. She hated that he was using it with her. “Ah, much too grim a subject for such a festive night,” he said.

“Tell me something else about yourself then,” she said. She’d originally asked because Miss Bunbury wouldn’t know, but the answer surprised her. What else didn’t she know about Julian?

He grinned. “I’m rubbish at cards, you’ve already borne witness to my poor dancing skills, and I am the kingdom’s most unenthusiastic hunter.”

Cass blinked at him. “I didn’t know that you’re rubbish at cards.”

He frowned.

“I mean … I … it surprises me, that’s all. I thought you might have played during the war. With your men, I mean.”

“The officers played, that’s true, quite a lot. But I can hardly claim I won much. It was fortunate that we never played for anything valuable. Against rules, you know.”

Cass closed her eyes. There
were
things about him, certain things that she didn’t know, it seemed. He’d mentioned the card games with the officers in his letters. She’d always pictured him winning every hand. Now that she considered it, however, he’d never claimed as much. She dared a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was the man she’d loved for so long through his letters. But he was also something else, flesh and blood, real and true and sitting beside her.

“Tell me something, Miss Bunbury.”

There it was again, the reminder that she was a liar. She wrapped her cloak even more tightly over her shoulders. “You’ve been kind enough to answer my questions, Captain Swift. I’m happy to answer one of yours.”

“How are you?” His voice was soft, caring. She’d always imagined his voice like this when she’d read his letters.

She blinked and blinked again. “How … am I, Captain Swift?” Whatever could he mean?

“In Penelope’s last letter, she told me that you’d been jilted over the summer.”

Cass nearly choked. “I … um…” That was right. Pen had mentioned that she’d told Julian that Patience Bunbury had been jilted. Mr. Albatross, wasn’t it? That was the reason why poor Patience needed her good friend Penelope at her side at the house party. Some friend she was, Cass thought with a bit of irony.

“I hope I haven’t embarrassed you by asking the question.” He gave her a small encouraging smile. It was just like Julian to ask a stranger how she was holding up. That’s what Cass loved about him, his kind heart.

“No. I … I’m quite fine. Er, at least I will be.”
Once I stop lying.
“Albus … er … Mr. Albatross. He and I didn’t suit. It’s for the best.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“How are you?” The words spilled from her lips more as a way to change the subject than anything else.

“Me?” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Yes, I’d truly like to know. It can’t have been easy for you, all those years at war.”

He let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s where I belong … belonged. Actually, now I’m not certain where I belong.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”

He let out a shaky laugh. “I recently learned that my brother is missing … in France.”

She pressed a hand to her heart. “Your brother? Your brother is missing?”

“Yes. My brother is the Earl of Swifdon. He … he was on business in France and hasn’t returned.”

“I didn’t know your brother was traveling,” she said.

Julian furrowed his brow. “You didn’t know I had a brother. How could you know he was traveling?”

She glanced away. “Oh, I … um. Of course not.” She cleared her throat. “You said he was there on business, however. So I just assumed … For the Crown?”

“He … yes. Parliamentary business.”

“And he’s missing? He may be hurt?” She twisted her fingers together.

“Yes.” Julian nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” he replied. “It’s just that…” He looked away into the darkened hedgerow.

“Yes?” she prompted. “Please, you can tell me.”

Julian groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. “I know it’s selfish but I just can’t help but think … if he doesn’t come back … I can’t…” He raised his head and shook it. “It doesn’t matter. Forgive me for being so morose. It’s unbecoming of this beautiful evening.”

Cass took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t see the tears shimmering in her eyes. Patience Bunbury didn’t know what he would have said next, but Cass did. She knew exactly, and she longed to reach out and run her fingers through his hair, comfort him, say something to relieve his pain. But she couldn’t. She clutched her shaky hands together in her lap. “I do hope your brother returns safely, Captain,” was all she could offer him.

He paused for a moment, then looked up into the twinkling night sky. “May I ask you one more question, Miss Bunbury?”

Cass nodded. “Of course.”

“What do you want out of life?”

She shook her head. He’d caught her off guard, surprised her. Partly because it was such an unexpected question and partly because she couldn’t have imagined Julian would ask such a thing of a nearly complete stranger. But it made her nervous, too. She couldn’t risk saying anything Cass might say. She must answer this question as Patience Bunbury, the woman who didn’t exist. In this case, vagueness was probably best. “Oh, the same thing as most young ladies, I expect.”

“Such as?” he pressed. “Forgive my impertinence, but I find since I’ve returned from war, I’m quite interested in knowing the answer to this question, both for myself and for others. How many people do you think truly know what they want, Miss Bunbury?”