“I must speak to Lady Cassandra immediately,” Julian declared. “Is she here?”
“May I take your coat, my lord?” the butler offered.
“No, you may not. I’ll wait here.”
The butler raised a brow but made his way down the corridor, ostensibly to find his mistress. Julian paced the foyer. Had he found her in time? Was she here? If she’d run away, he doubted she’d have informed the butler.
Cassie’s parents weren’t going to like this. Not one bit. But Julian didn’t give a bloody damn. Moments later, Lady Moreland came sweeping out of the back of the house, her face a mask of disapproval and anger. “Captain Swift, Shakespierre tells me you’re here to call upon Cassandra.”
Julian returned her harsh look. “I am.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she replied with a tight smile.
“Cassandra’s not here?” he asked, his face heating, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. If that was true, he’d leave for the convent immediately.
“I didn’t say that. I said it’s not possible for you to speak with her,” Lady Moreland clarified.
He narrowed his eyes on her. “Why not?”
Lady Moreland pushed her nose in the air and gave him an imperious look that clearly indicated she was not amused with his failure to turn tail and run. “Perhaps if you came back another time.”
She made as if to usher him out the door.
Julian didn’t move. “I intend to stay here until I see Cassandra. If she’s here.”
One blond-gray brow arched. The lady spoke through clenched teeth. “Captain Swift, do not force me to call my husband into this.”
Julian nearly laughed at that. Lord Moreland was in his sixties and quite heavy. Even though Julian was still recuperating from his war injuries, he was quite certain he could easily beat the older man in a fight, and he was more than prepared to do so if either of them tried to keep him from Cassie.
“I’m not forcing you to do anything, my lady. I’m merely stating a fact.” He gave her a tight smile. “I’m not leaving until I either see Cassandra or evidence that she’s not here.”
Any semblance of nicety evaporated from the woman’s face. She turned her head sharply to the right. “Shakespierre, fetch Lord Moreland immediately, and bring two of the footmen back with you.”
Julian took a deep breath. Fine. If this was how she wanted it, this was how she was going to get it. No sixty-year-old lord and two young footmen were going to keep Julian from seeing the woman he loved.
He shot daggers at Lady Moreland with his eyes. “You might want to call the watch and the Bow Street runners while you’re at it, my lady, because I’m not leaving.”
Shakespierre took off into the back of the house again and Lady Moreland narrowed her eyes on Julian. “I cannot believe you’re acting in such a disgraceful manner, Captain Swift, but I suppose I should not be surprised.”
He placed both hands on his hips and faced her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down her nose at him. “You’ve never had quite thequalitythat your brother does.”
If she’d slapped him, she couldn’t have hit her mark any better. Something told Julian that she knew that, too. But he was done living in his brother’s shadow.
He glared at Lady Moreland. He refused to let her ruffle him. “And you’ve never had quite the pleasant kindness of your daughter, my lady. I have often wondered how you produced such an exquisite creature.”
Lady Moreland gasped. “How dare you!”
Lord Moreland and the two footmen came hurrying into the foyer with Shakespierre just then. Lord Moreland was out of breath from the exertion.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Moreland demanded.
Julian stepped forward. “I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, my lord.”
Both Lord and Lady Moreland looked as if they might faint or have an apoplectic fit, perhaps both.
“What? What? What?” Lord Moreland clasped his lapels, his jowly face turning redder by the moment.
