“So, we are both defying our families.”
His lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Apparently. But it will be a good marriage, Cass. I know it isn’t what you would have wanted, but we will make it work.”
“And how do you know what I wanted? I do like you, Soren. If our regard for each other can survive a dog drawn on a slate, well, then, we might be happy.”
“That is my hope.” He barely acknowledged her attempt at humor. Instead, his gaze had moved from the doorframe—and to her lips.
He hoped for something more, too. He wanted to kiss her, and yet he held back, something he hadn’t done that morning.
Just the thought of the kiss they had shared brought heat to her blood. Her breasts seemed to press against the light material of her dress—
Cassandra kissed Soren before he could kiss her. She sought to control the moment. She didn’t aim for his mouth but for his cheek. She kissed him the way one would a cousin. A quick buss and nothing like the morning’s kiss—because after an evening of knowing looks and talk of a “special suite,” she was overwhelmed.
Then, before he could respond, she opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it firmly behind her. She collapsed against the door. Her heart raced as if she’d taken a great dare.
Seconds turned into a minute and then two. He was still there on the other side of the solid wood. She could sense his presence.
She rested her ear on the cool wood. She could swear she heard him breathing. Was it her imagination or did she catch a whiff of his shaving soap?
He spoke, his voice quiet and close to the door. “The hardest part of the future, Cassandra, is leaving what is known and trusted to move forward with courage. I know this is not the way you expected your life to unfold, but sometimes, expectations should be abandoned.” He walked away.
She listened to his booted steps echo on the hardwood floor and wondered what he meant. Was he talking about the kiss? Or did he sense her deeper turmoil?
Soren was no poet, and yet his words had perfectly captured the conflict inside her.
Or was he speaking of himself? Did he, too, wonder if he was making the right decision? After all, he was selling his title for money.
They would soon know, because, on the morrow, they would both be stepping into their futures.
Chapter 9
So, she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her the way he had that morning.
That was the reason she’d taken the matter into her own hands. Soren understood her motive as clearly as he knew his own name. What puzzled him was what she was afraid of. What she was thinking. Cassandra never acted without forethought, sometimes too much forethought.
For his part, kissing her had been all he could think about over dinner.
The kiss they had shared on the dueling field had made a difference. She’d responded to him. She’d not been experienced, but she had not held back. He wanted to believe her natural curiosity extended to the bedroom. This was a good thing, because Soren had no desire to be a monk and he wanted his wife to be his lover.
He understood the dangers of marriages of convenience. His parents had had one and they had come to detest each other. His mother had been from a good family of modest fortune. They had scraped together a sizable dowry to launch their daughter into Society. Soren knew it had been hard on her to watch her lazy albeit noble husband invest her money in silly schemes or gamble it away.
Meanwhile, his father had discovered he’d married a woman who was doomed to be perpetually disappointed. She was never satisfied, something that increasingly weighed on Soren.
He was their only child although he had a bastard brother and two bastard sisters. He wondered if Cass knew? It seemed to be a big secret in Cornwall, a place where secrets never stuck.
His half sisters were suitably and happily married. His half brother had a commission and served on the Peninsula. Soren had seen to their successful prospects. Not his father.
But there were things he needed to discuss with Cass, and they were topics that might not please her—such as his first marriage and his son.
Soren had no doubt Cass would find his mother a trial, just as he did. However, he hoped she bonded with his son. He’d mentioned Logan that morning to her. He’d told her that he wanted to save Pentreath for his son and she’d not made a comment... except now, on reflection, Soren wondered if she had fully understood what he’d meant. She might have thought he was speaking aboutason in general, such astheirson once they married.
He’d been preparing for bed. He now sat on the edge of the mattress, working over this new problem. It was quite possible Cass hadn’t registered much of anything that was said, what with the duel and the proposal.
Absolutely, now that Cass had agreed to marry him, he must speak to her about Logan before she heard any rumors. His son was his sole motive for doing what he must to save Pentreath. He was also the reason Soren needed to return home soon. Considering he’d had no choice but to leave Logan in his mother’s care, he’d already been gone too long.
So, when to talk to Cass?
There would be no time before the ceremony. Nor would he run the risk of Cass crying off. She was that independent-minded.
