“Yet the storm didn’t stop the other lord.” Stuart arched an eyebrow in judgment. “Either way, you broke her heart. You should leave this place and never see her again. That is the only way she can be happy.”
The longer he argued with the butler, the more irate Collin became. “I think differently. I believe that the only way either ofus will be able to put our painful memories to rest is for us to follow our hearts. She was falling in love with me back then, just as I was coming to love her.”
“She will never have you,” Stuart snapped. “Not now.”
Anger rose inside Collin, and although he felt like punching the insolent man in the face, the throbbing pain in his head told him to let the matter rest. Stuart was only trying to defend Cassandra, which was what Collin would do if roles were reversed.
His thoughts crashed to a halt. Did this mean Stuart was in love with her too?
The realization made Collin hitch a breath. Stuart was most definitely in love with her. Cassandra was a sweet woman with the kindest heart, or at least she had been that way. Collin knew he would be able to bring out her good traits again if given a chance.
He rubbed his forehead. “Stuart, I do understand how you feel, but rest assured, I don’t want to hurt her any more. I want to repair the damage between us the best way I know how.”
Stuart grumbled underneath his breath, spun back around, and flew down the stairs. Although Collin was relieved to have the pointless argument stopped, his mind began to open. The man’s departure seemed very familiar. The color of his brown hair, and especially the bald spot on the back of his head. The dark blue of the butler’s uniform also seemed very memorable.
In a flash, Collin’s mind completely opened. He was hiding behind a tree as he watched Cassandra exit her carriage after he had followed her when she came uninvited to his brother’s wedding. Someone hit him on the head with a thick tree branch. Before losing consciousness, Collin glanced behind him to see a man running away—a man who had a bald spot on the back of his head.
Growling, Collin hurried after the butler. Anger fueled his every step. He would get to the bottom of this. Clearly, the servant was not happy that Collin had taken over Lloyd’s estate, or that Collin was still here.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he listened intently. Where had that man gone?Cassandra!Oh, of course. Stuart would go straight to the lady of the house and try to make her side with him instead of Collin.
He quickened his step and raced toward the parlor, hoping she was there waiting for him. When she wasn’t, he rushed to the music room. It was empty as well.
He stopped to catch his breath as he tried recalling where every room was located. Cassandra’s bedchamber was probably toward the east of the manor, but on the second level, just as his room. Yet the servant had run the other way.
Floating through the air was Cassandra’s magical, angelic voice. He followed the sound, and it led him to the dining room. She stood talking to one of the kitchen maids. He stopped again, not wanting to interrupt.
Although she hadn’t been raised as the other ladies of theton, Cassandra was, to him, the very essence of a marchioness. The lift of her chin, the way she squared her shoulders, and the way she spoke made him proud. Her very presence took his breath away.
She wore a different gown than earlier. It appeared that she wore a traveling dress. She was probably as determined to leave as he was determined to keep her with him.
When Cassandra looked his way, she paused in mid-sentence. After a few silent moments, she turned to the maid and motioned for the girl to leave. The maid curtsied and left.
“Forgive me,” he began. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I do have something very important to tell you—something that I just remembered.”
Slowly, she moved toward him, clasping her hands to her waist. “The way my housekeeper explained your conversation, she made it sound like youdemandedto see me.” She glanced at the grandfather clock against the nearest wall. “I was here on time, but you, my lord, are ten minutes late.”
Heavens, he had missed her spunky personality, even though he was certain she tried to act stubborn at the moment.
“I will admit, I instructed your servant in a demanding voice, but it was only because I could not tolerate the way she spoke to me. Your servants need to learn respect, and quickly.”
She stared at him as if bored with the topic. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“I remembered something.”
“But I thought your memory had returned. What could you have possibly remembered now that you had not earlier?”
He glanced up and down the hall. “Where is your butler?”
“Stuart?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged and gracefully walked toward the parlor. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
He moved closer and lowered his voice. “He was the one who whacked me over the head with the branch.”
Gasping, she stopped. “Impossible! Why would you accuse him of such a thing?”
