“Is that not manipulating the deck?” Cassian arched a brow.
“In some ways,” Henry chuckled. “But it comes down to superior breeding, and believe me, Tressingham, he has the best breeding.”
“Unlikesomeothers,” Margaret Hartwick muttered.
The pointed jab rolled off Cassian like water over a duck’s back. He had heard worse, so he ignored it. He had no impression the woman liked him, and he could bet his last shilling that she still felt Whitmore was better for her daughter, even with the wicked things he was doing to her.
My mother told me that the placement of my birth can force me to be the villain in many people’s eyes. I never cared before, and I’ll be damned if I do now.
“Mother,please,” Cecilia whispered desperately.
“No, Cecilia,” Cassian replied. “Let her have her say. I can take whatever criticism she has. I much prefer we get things out in the open so we know where we all stand.”
Henry’s gaze flitted between the two, “I do not think this is the appropriate time nor the place for this conversation.”
Bullheaded, Cassian overrode him, “No. Speak your mind, Your Grace.”
Margaret whipped her head at him. “You are a dangerous, immoral scoundrel. For years, you have terrorized the ladies inLondon without a care. You’re a scoundrel with a devil-may-care attitude, and you’ve ruined many a name and reputation, and I do not appreciate how trivial you see life,” she blustered, her nose tilted up condescendingly.
“Mother!” Cecilia was horrified.
Turning to her daughter, Margaret’s tone was scathing. “I know you want to see the best in him, Cecilia, but you cannot change him. God above, I knew my decision to let you read those fantasies would come back to haunt me.
“The reformation of rakes is the stuff of fiction, written only in the Miranda Press. A woman can no more change a man’s heart than a leopard can its own spots, especially when pertaining to a degenerate like him.”
Her father frowned and spoke up at last. “Margaret, dear, I know you are disappointed with the match, but such insults are rough on the palate.”
Not once through the duchess’ tirade did Cassian flinch, but Cecilia looked mutinous.
“Enough!” she snapped, standing.
“Cecilia!” Her mother gasped. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Going home,” she said firmly. “I will not allow you to disparage Cassian as if he were a reprobate. He is not vicious or mean like Gabriel, but you choose to do nothing about him, yet take Cassian to task. It is hypocritical, and I will not sit by and do nothing anymore.”
Her mother went pale, but an odd warmth bloomed in Cassian’s chest at her protective stance. “Cassian, please,” she said to him. “We are leaving.”
This time, her mother was on her feet too. “Cecilia, thisinsolenceis beyond the pale!”
“Yet it’s not,” Cecilia snapped back smoothly. “I’ve realized that I cannot bite my tongue when things I feel passionate about come along. I understand that my marriage was not the most favorable, but enough is enough. This is not at all Cassian’s culpability. It is unfair of you to denigrate him while your own daughter was the one at fault.”
Her mother’s face soured while flags of embarrassed red bloomed on Margaret’s cheeks.
“So, yes, I will not sit and allow this unfairness to continue,” Cecilia finished curtly. “So, please excuse us. I do hope you can realize your bias and address it, and I won’t accept an apology until then—respectfully, of course. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
Her mother stared at her as if she had never seen her before. Cassian stared as well, but a smile curled at his lips. Cecilia was getting bolder.
“I apologize on behalf of your mother,” Henry grumbled at last, his face tight while disapproval was rife in his eyes. “Yourmotherand I will be having a very pointed conversation after this.”
“Henry!” Her mother’s tone was chiding, but Henry was no boy. Cassian was sure the man would reel his wife in.
Standing, Cassian tugged his jacket down. He inclined his head, “Good evening to you.”
As he strode away from the box, he felt himself in an odd position. Being at odds with himself over something so juvenile and asinine was not a sensation he was familiar with.
As they entered the carriage, he shucked his jacket and stuck a finger into his cravat’s knot to loosen it. Cecilia was upset and gazed out the window, her jaw tight.
He let half the journey pass before he finally asked, “Was that the first time you have stood against your mother?”
