“Andmint,” Carter’s brows danced as he reached for an apple and tossed it in the air. “It lifts the spirits, does it not?”
“You have outdone yourself this time,” Cassian chimed as a sixth sense rippled over the back of his neck.
He studiously ignored the lady meandering down the aisles and stifled the instinctive thrill of the hunt that rushed through him, since he knew the lady. Tall and slender frame, the willowy silver blonde was dressed in rich amber, her bonnet secured beneath her chin with a blue bow.
“Your Grace,” Charity Winslow, the daughter of the town’s mayor, also an earl, dipped out a sensual curtsy. Blonde and demure, she had perfect manners and a spotless reputation in the town. “I have not seen you in quite some time.”
His brow ticked up, “Your father and I met three weeks ago, and you helpfully carried in his correspondence.”
Her pale blonde ringlets quivered as she blinked. “I’d forgotten that. My apologies.”
“Cassian,” Cecilia came to his side, her gaze laden with caution and curiosity as it landed on Charity. “Pardon me for interrupting, but the town crier and the mayor of the town sent a message for everyone to meet at the square.”
“I see,” Cassian replied. Nodding to Charity, he said, “Cecilia, this lovely young woman here is Charity Winslow, daughter of Winston Winslow, Earl Renford, the mayor.”
Cecilia waited for the woman to follow the social convention and curtsy—but it never came. Instead, the girl looked to Cassian in confusion, and then back to Cecilia, a small laugh on her lip.
“Pardon me for my ignorance, but His Grace has never mentioned you…?”
Those calm words had the effect of a stinging slap across the face, but Cecilia did not reel from it. Perhaps the news of Cassian’s marriage had not fully permeated the town yet—as unlikely as that was.
“She is my wife,” Cassian elucidated. “I am surprised you did not know that. Surely, your father must have told you.”
“Oh—” The lady blinked, “Oh, I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It is no fault of yours,” Cassian replied, “I suppose word does not spread as fast in a small town as it does in the greased streets of London. Have you ever been to a London ball, my lady?”
“Once,” Lady Charity said. “Sadly, my companion was not as gregarious or as handsome as you are, Your Grace.”
Cecilia’s brows shot to her hairline, but then she forced her face into a stoic slab of politeness. Inside, however, she felt irritated at the girl's brazenness and was honestly galled at her blatant flirting.
“I hate to tell you, my lady, there is no other lord as sociable or handsome as I am,” Cassian replied, his tone almost a purr.
Cecilia wanted to smack the back of his head for playing into her game. When the lady looked to Cecilia—clearly to see if their repartee had struck a nerve—she kept a calm face, never letting her smile slip even in the face of a subtle—and not so subtle—snub.
“I do hope it is permissible that if I do attend another ball, I will be fortunate enough to find a lord as superior as you are,” Lady Charity continued with faux humility. “I may be left forever wanting, but I am so glad I have met you in person, Your Grace.”
Unbidden, an image of Cassian pleasuring the lady the same way he had done to her mere days ago simultaneously sank her stomach and made her blood boil.
Clearing her throat, she turned to Cassian, “We must get to the green, or we might be late.”
As they walked away, Cecilia felt a ripple over the back of her neck and knew—she had no need to guess—that the lady was staring at her.
Oh, wonderful, now I have another enemy in the village while battling another in London.
“Do you really think news has not gotten to the town, or is it that she has another agenda?” Cecilia asked innocently as they backtracked from the meeting hall to the direction of the market and the square.
“What agenda?” Cassian replied.
“It is quite clear that she is infatuated with you.”
“Why would you think that?”
They came to the cobblestone walk that led to the square of the town. “Because it is the same way I used to look at Gabriel.” Cecilia’s face twisted with self-disgust.
Cassian slid a look to her. “If I miss my guess, it sounds to me as if you are a tad jealous.”
They arrived at the green while the townspeople were trickling in as well. In the middle of the common green was a makeshift podium, and a short man was mounting the steps.
