Liza, the serving girl, brought plates of roast mutton with red currant jelly, summer vegetables, and a tureen of brown gravy for the table. She seemed equally fond of Cassandra and more than a little in awe ofhim. The child nearly spilled a platter curtseying and ‘Your Grace’-ing.
Even Mrs. Harris, a large, ruddy-faced woman, came out from her kitchen to compliment Cassandra’s pretty frock and inquire if everything was cooked to their tastes.
“It is lovely, Mrs. Harris,” his companion said, blushing. “Thank you. You are always so skilled at selecting the very best ingredients. Even Honoria said you had a keen eye for choosing mutton. I’d be honored if, someday, you would help me.”
Mrs. Harris beamed. “You’ll find me every Monday at the shops, my dear. You’re more than welcome to join me. Indeed, I’d be happy for the company.”
With that, the woman hustled back to her kitchen, leaving them to enjoy their supper in peace. Wade was impressed by the cuisine here at the White Lion. He’d not had a bad meal, and this roast mutton and gravy might’ve been the best yet.
Good, hearty, simple fare—skillfully prepared—rivaled any of the complicated, elaborate,expensivedinners he’d been served at his club. Even Cassandra’s cold pork pie had proved tastier than his own chef’s recipe.
He smiled at her as he cut into his meat. “If you learn to cook mutton like this, buttercup, you’ll never be rid of me.”
She laughed. Every head in the dining room swiveled in their direction. Cassandra Staunton was a beautiful woman, but she had a laugh that could charm the hardest of hearts. Her warm spirit and good nature was plain to see.
“I cannot afford a haunch large enough or decent enough to do this justice, but I shall endeavor to learn. At any rate, working alongside Mrs. Harris will be an interesting experience. Now, I’ve something to look forward to on Mondays.”
An industrious lady like Cassandra needed something to do, some productive way to fill her days, so that when she took time away to enjoy herself, she did not feel guilty.
He could offer her more than a tidy cottage to organize, laundry to wash, or meals to dream up. He could offer her a life beyond Longstone, though he feared that would never be enough. Somehow, he—a worthless, dissolute, waste of a dukedom—must make this incredible woman’s dreams come true.
She spooned gravy onto her plate and asked, “What did you do with yourself today?”
They had not met earlier, as had been their custom. Wade remembered that she had a busy day of washing, wringing, drying, ironing, and folding. He’d stayed away to give her time to complete her chores.
He knew she would’ve been annoyed if she neglected her tasks.
“I rose early, ate breakfast, and went for a walk among the dales to clear my head. Then I wrote a letter to my mother—we never miss a weekly report.”
She paused, brows knitted. “Forgive me, but I did not know the duchess was living.”
“Mother has not been the Duchess of Wadebridge for twenty years. She remarried when I was a boy.”
“Oh, I see.” Cassandra did not pry further, but the inevitable questions loomed.
Wade felt an acute, aching need to tell her the truth. He wanted Cassandra Staunton to choosehimover all others. Surely, she would be the one person in all the world to see him, to love him, and to accept him.
“You should know that I love my mother dearly,” he said, fighting through the tightness in his throat. He took a long drink of wine to wash away the sandy feeling that had suddenly gathered in his windpipe. “But she is a simple woman. I mean that quite literally, as she is not intelligent. My father died before I was old enough to even form a memory of the fellow, and my mother was deemed incapable of bringing me up and preparing me for my role in life.”
Cassandra sat very still. Indeed, the only movement at the table was a soft waving of candlelight across her face. She must’ve sensed he was sharing something he rarely told anyone. She did not judge, but listened as he laid his secrets bare.
“At the age of six, I was handed into the custody of the Wadebridge trustees. I was sent away to school, and Mother remarried a humble country squire not long after. They have four children, live quietly in Devon, and are—by all accounts—a happy family.”
He hated those old autocrats who’d taken him from his mother, a warm and loving woman. Wade sent her money regularly, wrote weekly, and visited her once or twice a year. She fawned over him, refused to listen to a word of scandal involving him, and was deliriously proud of the man she’d believed he had become.
He loved her, and she loved him, but the dukedom had robbed them both of a happy youth. Wade had been a lonely boy forced under the scrutiny of cold, unfeeling, impartial guardians. He had not known the joy, warmth, or freedom afforded to his half-brothers and -sisters.
Cassandra gulped down her own wine. “You must’ve been miserable.”
An understatement. “Fortunately, I made friends with Althorne and his brother whilst at boarding school. I could not spend holidays with my mother’s family, and dreaded the seclusion of my ducal estate, so I tagged along with the brothers back to Caswell Hall. I spent every Christmas and each summer among the dales.”
“Your place of happy memories.”
Wade nodded. That buttercup meadow loomed large in his memory. Whenever he had faced the trustees, he’d pictured jolly, carefree times far away from those hard-hearted custodians.
“I should like you to meet my mother someday,” he said. “What she lacks in intellect, she makes up for in humor, charity, and enthusiasm. She could never manage a dukedom—I do see that now—but she is an excellent mother to Martha, Mary, George, and William.” He tossed back the last of his wine and liberally refilled his glass. “If I had been an ordinary child, I would’ve had a better life.”
“But you were not an ordinary child. Indeed, Wadebridge, there is nothing ordinary about you. Your mother could see that. She probably understood her limitations, and did what she believed was best to give you the life you were born to. Shewasa duchess, if only for a little while. Surely, she knew what a difficult road you had ahead of you.”
