“Heaven forbid I should ever be persuaded to such domestic bliss!” Cassian shuddered. “I most certainly do not lack for company of the female kind, if that is what you are both so concerned about. I merely enjoy the simplicity of a life in which I arrive on the precise hour I so desire because my wife did not misplace my cravat, or stickpin, or boot, or whatever.”
Benedict shook his head with a wry smile. “I used to share that sentiment, my friend.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “And now?”
“And now, I know that rules are not to be followed to the letter.”
Cassian let out a dramatic sigh at that. His wife’s influence, perhaps. The Duchess of Frostmore had never encountered a rule she could not break.
“I, for one, do not grieve the passing of my old life,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “It lacked… a great many things.”
“Well, I would much rather enjoy the vast expanse of my bed, even if I were to marry, which I very much do not intend to do in the near future,” he added.
He caught the two men sharing a look before they burst into chuckles, looking at him with a sort of galling amusement that rankled more than he would care to admit.
“Why, are youterrifiedat the thought of sharing your bed with a woman, Cassian?” Sebastian grinned.
“Ye gods, of course not. Nothing like having a soft, willing woman by your side, but…” he let out a sigh. “You gentlemen know how it is. First, you let a woman linger overlong in your bed, and the next thing you know, you are escorting her grandmama on afternoon calls.”
There it was again.Thatlook. It was as if Benedict and Sebastian had come to some understanding that Cassian could not grasp.
“One day, Cassian, a woman will come into your life and keep you in bed until you forget how to shoot a pistol,” Sebastian said with a smirk.
“Ridiculous!” he shook his head. “You are both completely and utterly ridiculous. Marriage has not only made you both dull and soft, but it appears to have addled your wits as well.” He sighed and motioned for one of the servants to take his pistol. “Very well then, I shall leave you, gentlemen, to it.”
“Going so soon?” Sebastian mused.
Cassian nodded. “I have a prior engagement, I am afraid.”
“Could it be a young lady?” Benedict queried with a mischievous grin. “One with a grandmother who needs escorting on her afternoon calls, perhaps?”
“I can only hope to be spared the fate that has befallen you both,” he replied with a grin. “I fear I have neither the patience to linger in beds nor to escort ailing grandmothers. I shall leave thosetasks to you both. Gentlemen,adieu.”
He tipped his hat toward his friends and walked away from the shooting range, ignoring the pain that seared up the length of his leg. Cassian cursed under his breath, never missing a step.
Very well, if he had to suffer, then no one else would be the wiser for it. Not his friends or anyone in theton. Once more, he thanked whatever gods may be that he did not have a wife privy to his secrets.
Cassian climbed into the waiting carriage, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the door frame. This damned injury. Five years, and still it followed him like a ghost from the battlefield.
Thankfully, he had already reserved the entire afternoon at an exclusive bathhouse. The steaming hot waters would be just the cure for his thrice-cursed leg.
As soon as the carriage pulled up in the discreet entrance at the back, Cassian all but sprinted for the changing rooms, hastily disposing of his garments in favor of a silken robe that had been prepared for him beforehand.
The bathhouse had been a godsend in the early days of his injury, providing him with the much-needed relief from the ache that wracked him day and night. Even when the pain had faded to an occasional affliction, he made sure to schedule the weekly appointment in its healing waters.
Cassian let out a soft exhale as he stepped into the steaming hot waters of the bath. The rest of the establishment had been emptied of all other guests, a privilege only an aristocrat of his fortune and standing could afford. With no one else in the steam-filled enclave, he dropped the silken robe a short distance from the edge of the bath, within easy reach. He had just begunto lower himself into the soothing waters when the unmistakable sound of footsteps pervaded the silence.
And then, as if his friends and the heavens were not done mocking him yet, the most damnable sight burst through the haze.
A woman.
How the hell did she get inside?
“How the hell did you get in here?”
Juliana froze at the sound—low, irate, shocked, with more than a touch of arrogance. It was the sound of a man used to issuing orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question. It slipped unbidden through the portal of her ears, skittering along nerves she had never thought existed.
“I… I—”
