“That night, Cassian civilly got Gabriel to agree to withdraw his defamatory words in the papers until at the end of the night, Gabriel reneged on his vow,” Cecilia went on. “So yes, he did try to protect me, and you should also know, Cassian was only defending my honor. Gabriel had meant to call me a—a,you know what, in front of his peers.”
Red flags bloomed on her mother’s cheeks. “I was not aware of that.”
“I didn’t think you were,” Cecilia replied, dropping the newspaper on the table near her. “It has become quite apparent that you do not like Cassian, but I need you to understand he is not the monster you think he is.
“The gossip sheets love to paint him a rakehell, a shameless rogue, and a wild man. And yes, he was all of those things to some degree—but that is not all that he was. I was his worst critic, but I have realized that appearances are deceiving. He is a good man. Gabriel, however, is not.”
“You cannot possibly think so,” her mother gasped.
“I do,” Cecilia nodded decisively.
“After the annulment, your father thinks it best for you to go away for a while, probably to—”
“No, mother,” Cecilia stopped her. “I will not be shipped away. I am staying here, inLondon.”
Her mother did not like her stance, and it showed on her face, but graciously, Margaret said, “I hope you understand that this might not end up the way you think it might.”
“I’ll take my chances then.”
The moment her mother left the front doors, Cecilia turned on her heel and headed to Cassian’s room. She unearthed a bottle of brandy and swallowed a bracing mouthful—and proceeded to hack up a lung.
Wincing, she glared at the glass while coughing. “Why on earth do men like this?”
Still, she sat and sipped the drink, while hearing the soft pitter-patter of a light, misty rain that had started to fall. She called for someone to stoke the fire in Cassian’s room, then, after a quick bath, returned to a toasty room.
A heavy thunder boomed—causing her to jump in fright—and the spitting rain grew heavy. “As much as I want to have him here,” she sighed, “it is dangerous to travel in this maelstrom.”
Throwing back the last of the brandy, she settled into his bed and drew his pillow to her face again, as if she had not left from that morning. Outside, the rain lashed, and the wind shrieked, yet in here she felt safe, comforted, protected.
“Wherever you are, Cassian…” she mumbled as sleep finally began to take her, “I hope you are safe too.”
CHAPTER 23
The morning was damp with a porridge-like fog settling across the land. The dour feeling started to seep into her heart as well. Cassian had not returned yet, and she hoped that he had done the smart thing and hunkered down in that rain.
“What am I going to do about this annulment…” Her words echoed in her ears as she went to her desk and found the massive mountain of letters waiting for her. “Should I have told her that Cassian had already assured me we would part ways?”
“Your Grace,” Andrews stepped into the room with a bow. “His Grace has just sent word that he will be home later and had to seek refuge in his London townhome during the storm.”
“That’s a relief,” Cecilia felt some of her worries evaporate, and the steel in her shoulders melted away. “Thank you, Andrews.”
As she waded through the mound of letters, she found one from Emma, one from her mother, and in the middle of the pile, one from Gabriel.
For a moment, she considered leaving it unread or just chucking it in the fire, but then she remembered,It must be a reply to my letter.
With heavy trepidation—what if Gabriel frankly refused to stop his malicious actions—she tore the envelope open to find a note.
Come to me, and we’ll talk. I know you cannot resist, Cecilia.
Her mouth dropped at the absolutearrogancebleeding through the words. Anger sizzled through her, and the strength of it stunned her. She could not believe this man was the same respectful, cordial man she had wanted to marry!
“The gall of this bounder!”
Dropping the note and pushing away from the table, she strode from the room and summoned Abigail. She was so angry, she almost tore the belt of her robe away. “We need to head to London—now.”
It was about midday when Cassian stepped into his home, feeling mucky from the long, wet trip. The only thing he wantedwas to have a hot bath, share dinner with Cecilia, and have her in his bed again.
He handed his coat over to the waiting footman and immediately called for his tub to be filled. “Where is my wife this afternoon?”
