The Accidental Countess (28 page)

CHAPTER FORTY

Cass couldn’t concentrate. She was supposed to be writing a letter to her elderly aunt Meredith. Instead, she stared off into the corner of the room, the quill forgotten in her hand. She had so much to sort out in her mind. Her outing with Julian yesterday had left her more confused than before. What did she want? What did she
truly
want? She didn’t want to marry Garrett or any other man whom she didn’t love. She wanted Julian. She always had and she always would. But that was obviously not to be. She’d nearly screwed up the courage to ask him who he had feelings for, but in the end she just couldn’t.

Julian was still angry with her. She knew that. And what did it matter, really? He’d kissed her the other night because he was attracted to her. He couldn’t help himself, but it didn’t change the fact that he hated her for her lies. He didn’t feel he could trust her. She couldn’t hold out hope on that score. He couldn’t forgive her and she had to accept that. She had to let go of her old dream. It faded before her eyes. Pen might not marry Julian, but neither would she. It was a hope she’d held for so long. So very long.

Cass shook herself from the memories and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. Regardless of what had gone on between them, she knew now that she and Julian did not have a future together, not as husband and wife. She’d been a child when she’d dreamed that dream. Now she was a woman, full-grown. Childish fantasies were best left in the past.

She had to take responsibility for her life, make her own decisions. That meant that she had to get away from her mother. That was the first order of business. As long as her mother controlled her, she would not stop pushing her toward the biggest, most noble title in every room. Cass couldn’t bear that. She couldn’t live the rest of her life being trotted out to social events as she got older and older. She would never marry. She knew that now.

She leaned back in her chair and combed her fingers through her hair. What did she want? Peace. She wanted peace and quiet. The barest hint of an idea skittered through her brain.

She sat up straight. She couldn’t do it, could she? Oh, she’d threatened to a time or two before, but it had only been a jest, really. Hadn’t it?

She tapped a fingertip against the tabletop. But it didn’t have to be, did it? There were young ladies who did it all the time. It wasn’t unthinkable.

She snapped her fingers. Yes. She could! She would. And her mother would have no more control over her. But first, she needed help. She stretched out her arm and dabbed the quill into the inkpot in front of her.

She needed to write two letters. Immediately.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Daphne Swift and Jane Lowndes arrived at Cass’s house at nearly the same time. They had both received Cass’s letters and quickly made their way to the Monroes’ town house. Cass had tea waiting for them. Thankfully, her mother was out paying afternoon calls and so the three young ladies were left alone.

Daphne was wearing a pretty pink dress, and her blond hair was wrapped around her head with a few ringlets dangling near her cheeks. Jane wore her usual blue with her usual book as an accessory. Daphne had the grace to look a bit guilty over her duplicitousness about meeting Cassandra in the park. Cass had to admire her for coming over to face her.

“Are you angry with me?” Daphne asked. “For luring you to the park to meet Julian?”

“No,” Cass replied. “I’m not angry. But why did you do it, Daphne?”

Daphne shrugged. “I thought if the two of you spent time together, you’d realize how you feel about one another. That’s what Her Grace’s letter said to do.”

Cass snapped up her head. “Her Grace’s letter?”

Daphne nodded, her blond ringlets bouncing. “Yes. The Duchess of Claringdon wrote to me several days ago and said I must help to ensure you and Julian saw each other as often as possible while you were in London.”

“Lucy wrote to you?” Cass turned to Jane. “Did you know about this?”

Jane shook her head so vigorously that her spectacles popped off her nose. She caught them in both hands and immediately scrambled to replace them. “I had no idea.”

“Her Grace said I should keep it a secret,” Daphne added. “Especially from you”—she nodded to Cass—“and Julian.”

“Of course she did.” Cass took a deep breath. “Why am I not surprised that Lucy continues to meddle in my affairs even after I stopped speaking to her over her meddling?” She poured tea into the cups.

“That’s our Lucy, I’m afraid.” Jane took the teacup that Cass handed to her.

Daphne sighed. “It didn’t work, though, did it?”

Cass shook her head. “No. I’m afraid it didn’t. In fact, your brother made it quite clear that he doesn’t even want to be my friend.”

Daphne’s face fell. “He said that?”

“Yes.’” Cass nodded.

“I cannot understand him,” Daphne replied, accepting her teacup. “Why is he acting this way?”

Cass lifted her chin. She pulled her own cup closer. “It doesn’t matter. He cannot forgive me, and I understand why. I was a fool to do what I did.”

Jane took a sip of her tea. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cass.”

Cass returned her weak smile.

“I don’t understand Julian these days,” Daphne said, taking a sip. “How could he be like this to you?”

“I’ve done a lot that’s difficult to forgive,” Cass replied. “I don’t blame him.”

“I do,” Daphne said. “He’s being so judgmental. We all do things we ought not from time to time. For instance, I tricked you into meeting him in the park. You don’t hate me, do you?”

Cass smiled at the younger girl. “No, I don’t hate you, but I do contend that you owe me a favor to make up for your sneakiness. In fact, that’s why I’ve asked you to come.”

Jane tipped down her head to look at Cass over her spectacles. She gave her a wary glance. “A favor? Is that why I’m here, too?”

Cass shook her head. “No. You owe me nothing, Janie. I only wanted to beg for your assistance.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Daphne said, “but if this is about Julian, I think you need to—”

“No.” Cass straightened her shoulders. “It’s not about your brother. This is about me and what I want to do. I need to take control of my own life. I’ve made a decision.”

Jane’s face scrunched into a frown. “You seem different today, Cass.”

Cass smoothed her hands down her sleeves. “You mean I don’t seem anxious any longer?”

Jane reached over and patted her arm. “Are you all right?”

Cass took a deep breath. “I’m perfect actually. I finally decided that I’m not going to live my life under my mother’s thumb for one more minute. She’ll never stop until I’m unhappily married to a man whom I don’t love. I know that and I refuse to live my life according to her rules.”

“I don’t understand. What do you want to do, Lady Cassandra?” Daphne asked, her brow furrowed.

Cass looked at Julian’s sister. “First, you must call me Cass.”

“All right, Cass,” Daphne answered with a smile.

Cass nodded. “Daphne, I do hope you do not take this the wrong way but you seem as if you are the type of young lady who knows how to do things you oughtn’t.”

Daphne blushed just a little, but then she laughed. “Oh, I understand, Cass. And you’re perfectly right. Actually, I take that as a compliment.”

Cass smiled back at her. “You should. I’ve asked you here because there’s something I want to do that is going to take someone of your skill and determination to do it. I need your help.”

Daphne’s eyes lit. She leaned forward in her seat. “Yes?”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Jane said, shaking her head at Cass.

“Be bold,” Cass said. “I’ve been thinking about those two words. I’ve made mistakes, several of them. I’ve allowed myself to be told what to do by nearly everyone, Mother, Father, Owen, even Lucy. It’s easy for me to blame all of them, to take no responsibility for the part I played in all of this.” She lifted her chin. “But it’s not true. It’s time I stood up for myself, made my own decisions, and lived life on my own terms. I learned something being Patience Bunbury. I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect little Society miss. The world would not come to an end if I broke a rule.”

Daphne waved a hand in the air. “Oh, dear, I could have told you that.”

Cass folded her hands in front of her and rested them on the tabletop. “I intend for things to be different now. No more being controlled by the whims of others. I intend to see to it that I live the rest of my life in peace and quiet. I want to go somewhere where Society and all of its silly titles don’t matter, a place where my parents cannot marry me off to the haughtiest title as if I’m a jewel to be sold.”

Jane’s eyes were wide. “Cass, I’ve never heard you speak like this before.”

Cass nodded. “I know. High time, is it not?”

“Yes.” Jane nodded resolutely. She took a small sip of her tea.

“Tell us,” Daphne prompted, leaning forward in her seat. “What do you intend to do?”

Cass glanced back and forth between both ladies. “I intend to run away and join a convent. And you’re going to help me.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Julian tossed his gloves and hat on the table next to the front door. His outing with Cassandra in the park the other day had been absolutely frustrating. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. What did the future hold for them? How could he possibly resolve their relationship? He might be able to forgive her for lying to him but it didn’t change the fact that she was in love with Upton and seriously considering marrying the man. And Upton, that fool, was warning Julian that he shouldn’t hurt her? He was completely daft.

How could Cassie respond so passionately to Julian’s kisses and then plan to marry Upton? It made no damn sense. Was it more of her playacting? If so, how could he have been so wrong about the girl he’d written to for years? The girl he thought he knew for so long? She’d asked him if he would be her friend. He’d been truthful in his answer. He didn’t want to be her blasted friend. He wanted to be much, much more than that. Her husband. He’d stupidly said no to the question, however, closing whatever bit of the door they had left open to them. Anger had made him do it. He was a complete fool.

Nothing had changed. Nothing including the fact that if Derek returned with no news, Julian intended to go to the Continent and find his brother and Rafe even if it meant he’d die trying. In that event, at least he would finally fulfill his father’s last request.

Pengree quickly swept up Julian’s hat and gloves, but he was halfway to the study by then.

“I have some letters for you, my lord,” Pengree announced, dogging Julian’s steps.

Julian stopped and turned around. “Letters?”

The butler stopped short, too. “Yes.” He handed Julian two different sealed pieces of parchment. Pengree cleared his throat. “The first one is from the Duke of Claringdon, and the second—”

Hunt? A letter from Hunt? “That’ll be all, Pengree.” Julian pushed open the door to the study and strode inside, ripping open the letter from Hunt as he went. Was this it, the letter that would contain Donald and Rafe’s fate? Julian held his breath. His gaze scoured the few words on the page.

Swift
,

I’ll be returning to London Thursday afternoon. I will come to Donald’s house straightaway.

Hunt

The hand that held the letter fell to Julian’s side. He stared unseeing at the row of mahogany bookshelves that lined the wall. They were nothing more than a dark blur. He barely noticed the fire crackling in the hearth, the soft strains of the pianoforte playing somewhere in the house where Daphne was practicing.

Bloody hell. If Derek wasn’t telling any news, he either didn’t know anything or it was bad. If Donald and Rafe were dead, Hunt would wait to tell him in person. Julian knew that. A knife twisted in his gut. He closed his eyes. It was Wednesday. He had an entire day to wait.

Tossing both letters onto the nearby desk, he scrubbed his hands across his face and finally allowed himself to think about the worst. Mama and Daphne hadn’t mentioned it, either, but he knew they must have been thinking about it, attempting to prepare themselves. If Donald was dead, Julian would be the earl.

He clenched his fist, slammed it against the bookshelf. The sturdy wood didn’t crack, but the books danced along the shelves. His knuckles ached. He stared at them. Blood dripped to the carpet.

Damn it all to hell. This was not the way things were supposed to be. This was not what he’d been born for. He’d never wanted the title, wasn’t meant for it. His father had been quite clear about Julian’s role and Julian had already failed at it once. Now.… If Donald didn’t return …

Julian clamped his jaw. Thank God his father wasn’t alive to see it. The old man would turn in his grave if he knew his beloved first son wouldn’t live to fulfill his role as the Earl of Swifdon.

Julian stared down at Hunt’s letter.
Life is inexplicably unfair
. His own words flared in his memory. That is what he’d learned in the war. He’d told Cassie that at the house party, hadn’t he? So damned unfair. It had been unfair that he’d kept Penelope on the hook all these years. It had been unfair of him to develop a deep friendship with a woman knowing he would not be coming home. It had been unfair of him to live, damn it. Yet he had Cassie to thank for that.

He glanced around the study. Never had he felt his father’s presence more than he did in this room today. The study of the Earl of Swifdon, his father’s room, Donald’s room. It was not a place for Julian.

God. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be standing here contemplating the idea that Donald might not be coming home. Julian needed something to keep his mind off things, his fears for his brother and his constant plaguing thoughts of Cassandra Monroe.

He turned toward the door to the study. Perhaps he’d go back to the club, the boxing hall, the— His gaze fell on the second letter that Pengree had given him. It lay on the desk half covered by Hunt’s missive. Julian did a double take. He slowly pulled it out and turned it around to get a good look. It was addressed to him from … Cassandra Monroe. He’d recognize that handwriting anywhere. He ripped open the seal, brought it closer to his face and stared at it, squinting. His brow furrowed. The date was … last July. How in the world—