Viscount Lakehurst might think he liked her now, but with time, Cassie feared those feelings would evaporate.
She turned back to him. “I disappointed Darkford. I fear I should disappoint you, as well. There is something lacking in me.”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” she said sadly. Tears ran gently down her cheeks.
Lakehurst rose and pulled her from her chair. He wrapped his arms about her, gently pressing her head against his chest. “I don’t believe you could ever disappoint me; however, I respect your fears,” he murmured. “And I have fears, too,” he said.
She gave a watery chuckle. “You with your size, strength, and position in society? You are bamming me, my lord.”
“I could wish that were true. No matter. My intent was not to make you cry. But I do want you to know, I like being around you. How about we leave it at that for now and see what happens?”
She nodded against his chest.
“It has been a long, tiring day. Sometimes emotions get the best of us when we’re tired.”
She stepped back, and he let his arms fall to his sides. “I should retire.”
“We both should,” he said.
Cassie started for the door, then stopped and turned to look back at him, the mammoth man with the gentle manner. He stared at the rug on the floor.
“Thank you,” she said.
He raised his head. “For what?”
“Just for being who you are,” she said with a warm smile before she left the room.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Come Together
The next morning, while Lakehurst was meeting with John, Henry, and Carlyle to discuss the day’s tasks, they heard wagons roll into the yard before the castle. The men came out of the stable to see who’d arrived. Some locals from the village climbed out of the wagons, pulling out tools and cleaning supplies with them. On horseback came the Reverend Mr. Fortesque dressed in solemn black, wearing a high white stock and cravat, a low-crowned black beaver hat and a multitude of shiny gold buttons down the front of his jacquard-patterned black waistcoat.
This was a moment Lakehurst wished he could raise one eyebrow in the way his grandmother did. Mr. Fortesque had more the image of a Mayfair clergy than a country clergy. For Lady Darkford’s benefit, no doubt, Lakehurst mused.
Lakehurst sent Henry into the castle to tell the ladies while he walked forward to greet Mr. Fortesque and the newcomers he’d brought with him.
Mr. Fortesque dismounted and tossed the reins to Carlyle.
“As you can see, my lord, I spread the word that the marchioness would like assistance in putting the castle to rights. The villagers always liked Lady Darkford, so many are happy to see her returned and welcome the work.” He frowned slightly. “The village has not been as prosperous since the Marquess died,” he added.
There was something about the way Mr. Fortesque spoke that had Lakehurst feeling like the man read from a script.
“No, I don’t suppose it has not, judging by the condition of the castle when we arrived.”
“The Gallaghers didn’t tend to the castle properly?”
Lakehurst laughed shortly. “Hardly. They were taking the funds sent for the castle upkeep for deposit in their own pockets.”
Mr. Fortesque’s brows drew together in surprise. “Embezzling?” he asked. It was the first thing he said that sounded unscripted.
“Just so. They secretly left early in the morning the day after we arrived. No doubt they knew it would not take long for us to discover their thievery.”
“Always thought they was slimy,” a man who came in one of the wagons said. Others around him muttered agreement.
Mr. Fortesque looked at them disapprovingly. They looked down at the ground, avoiding his eyes.
