The object of his desire escorted him to the door. She returned his hat and gloves. Her face was impossible to read. If only she would give him some word of encouragement, some insignificant little sign that he could cherish in his heart.
Wordlessly, she opened the door for him.
He frowned over the threshold. The sky beyond was stormy and dark. The heavy rainclouds threatened to spill their contents at any moment. Wet or not, it would be a wretched tramp across the village green.
Before leaving, Wade turned to her. He tugged his gloves over his fingers, pulling the soft leather taut. She watched him, pressing back against the open door.
Was he crowding her? She looked as if she wanted nothing more than to sink into the faded blue paint and disappear.
“May I call on you again, madam?”
Her pale eyes searched his own dark ones. Was she looking for goodness, kindness, or one shred of decency hidden in their depths? He really wasn’t a bad man, though he rarely bared his secret self to anyone.
Wade let her look her fill, hoping she found something worthy in him.
Could he call upon her again?
At last, she answered. “I am not sure. How long will you be in the countryside, Your Grace?”
He smiled, for it was not ‘no’. Wade could give some coy response in return. He could turn on his charm, or lie to save his pride. He could rebuff her before she had a chance to embarrass him.
Once again, Wade chose to tell the truth.
How long would he remain in the countryside, waiting for her?
“As long as it takes.”
***
His Grace had stayed for one quarter of an hour, yet his visit had felt interminable. He made her nervous. He made her feel graceless and gauche when she knew that she was neither of those things.
Mama had brought her up to be a lady. She was worthy of becoming a duchess—through comportment and education, if not by birth.
Perhaps that was why Wadebridge disconcerted her so. In a different life, Cassandra very much wanted to be his duchess. She wanted to be a wife and mistress of her own household, yet it was nature’s cruel trick that she could not marryanyone, much less the Duke of Wadebridge. To even contemplate such a future was madness and far too painful to bear.
Honoria sank back onto the sofa cushions and sighed, dreamily. “I had forgotten how handsome he was.”
Cassandra hadn’t. His Grace was tall, and strong, and virile. Dark coloring made him look dangerous, yet his smile could light a fire in the coldest woman’s heart. Something warm simmered beneath the surface of the Duke of Wadebridge. She’d glimpsed it when gazing into his heavy-lidded eyes.
She moved about the room, tidying the tea tray and dusting crumbs from the place where the duke had sat. Men were often careless with their cake.
“He is in love with you,” her sister said.
Cassandra paused. Her hand hovered over Wadebridge’s discarded cup and saucer. She placed one soft fingertip over the rim, tracing where his lips had been. The china was warm where he’d held it.
She swallowed.Washe in love with her, or was it merely lust? “His Grace is a blackguard by his own admission. I am sure I don’t have to remind you of his behavior that night at Caswell Hall. Men like him never love anyone but themselves.”
“Then why is he here?” Honoria asked. “Why come all this way to court you, if not for love?”
Cassandra met her sister’s gaze. “I don’t know.”
“He is right, you know—you never trust men. You hold everyone at arm’s length.”
“What choice have I, Honoria? I cannot marry. I cannot have children. What use is growing close to someone if I will only ever end up alone?”
“Then what is the point of doing anything? Why take risks? Why bother making any effort with the opposite sex? Why not sit at home and die as spinsters?” The youngest Staunton sister rose from the sofa, skirts trembling with indignation. “You are just like Octavia! How can you be content with your lot? Haven’t you ever wanted somethingmore?”
Of course, she had. All her young life, she had dreamed of a husband, and babies, and a comfortable house of her own. She wanted a man’s strong arms to hold her. Someone to laugh with and cry with. Someone to love.
