He doubted any of her Longstone suitors had kissed her like that. He did not wish to possess her like some. Nor put her on a pedestal—she was a woman, not a trophy or a fragile doll—like that lad George, who had pleaded for her in the pouring rain.
Wade wanted her forwhoshe was, exactlyasshe was. Cassandra Staunton was fully-grown and in command of her own life. He wanted her at his side by her own choice…or not at all.
He settled her down onto the lane. When her skirt hems brushed the cobbles, and he felt certain her feet were planted firmly on the ground, Wade turned her loose.
She caught his hand. They laced their fingers as they walked toward her darkened cottage.
“I’m going to Cornwall,” he told her, “and I want you to come with me.”
***
She looked at him, stunned. Hadn’t he been listening? Hadn’t he heard a word she’d said, or did he simply disregard her feelings on the matter?
“I cannot be your wife, Wadebridge.” No matter how tempting…
He pressed her hand. “This time, I am not asking you to be my wife.”
“What, then?”
His dark eyes met hers, positively black beneath the brim of his hat. He called to her like the void, and she had to remind herself to be sensible. She’d once seen a dynamite hole when the railway first blasted its way through the dales. The darkness was beautiful. Cassandra felt the same strange pull now as she had when staring into that craggy abyss.
“Come as you are,” he said. “Come to Cornwall because youwantto. Be with me.”
“As your mistress, then?”
The duke shrugged. “As my lover.”
“Wadebridge, I can’t. I am frigid.”
He turned to her, gripping her hand hard. “Don’t ever say that! There is nothing frigid about you. You’re warm, and passionate, and—yes—sensual. I know you have desires, Cassandra, despite what other people believe. There are many ways to love one another. We’ll find what works for us.”
“Even chastity, Your Grace?” Surely, she’d call his bluff. No man could want herthatmuch.
“It will be as we wish it to be. Whatever makes us happy.” He stepped as close as her cage-crinoline would allow. She’d have to explain to Honoria tomorrow why the hoops were warped. “But I guarantee that chastity will not make you happy.”
He knew her too well, for twenty-three years of denial had only sharpened the ache. She needed love, passion, and companionship. She wantedhim.
Cassandra swallowed. Her throat felt tight and dry. Suffocating. “I’d be ruined.”
“In whose eyes? Not mine. Not your sisters’. If you dare let the opinions of gossiping neighbors dictate your life, then you are not the woman I thought you were,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “Those who love you want the best for you. They’d never consider you ruined for following your heart.”
Octavia and Honoria would understand, yet the villagers would judge her misbehavior. “If I am to be your mistress…your lover…I’ll need an assurance, Your Grace.”
He raised one black brow. Did he think her mercenary to ask? “Name it.”
“I want my sisters taken care of. I want your word that our arrangement will not hurt Octavia’s position as governess at Caswell Hall or her chance of marrying Lord Althorne.”
“Simon loves your sister. Nothing we do shall change that—and rightly so.”
Good. She dreaded being her elder sister’s burden. Life as a duke’s mistress would mean financial independence. “Then I ask for Honoria’s security.”
“I shall settle something on both of your sisters, if it will ease your mind. Honoria may even come and live with us, though I doubt she’d want that.”
No, indeed. Her younger sister would be glad to have the cottage to herself for a change. “Doubtless, some freedom would do Honoria good…”
“You’ll come, then?” Wadebridge asked. “You’ll leave with me?”
Cassandra gently extricated her hand from his grasp. “I have to think about it, Your Grace. I should at least sleep on it. After all, this is something I can never come back from. If I do this, I am as good as pledging my life to you without the safeguards of marriage.”
