She'd thought of telling him she'd make no demands, that no matter what happened he'd have no obligation toward her or any potential child. But by then the amorous mood had cooled, and the idea of tackling such details had seemed exhausting.
A knock sounded at the door. Suspecting who it was, Mary answered with a groan.
“I brought you a cup of tea,” Cassandra said.
Mary listened to the sound of her friend closing the door and crossing the floor. The bed dipped moments later, and Mary peeked out from under her arm and met Cassandra's gaze.
“Did something happen with Mr. Crawford last night?” The question was gently posed without the slightest judgment.
Mary wasn't sure what to say, except, “We kissed.”
“And?” Cassandra prompted.
“It was spectacular,” Mary admitted, “until I flung myself at him like the worst sort of lightskirt, and he told me I deserve better.”
“Mary...” Cassandra cupped her cheek and stroked it lightly with her thumb. “That just means he's a descent man.”
Mary scrunched her whole face and cringed. “Exactly!”
Cassandra paused. A couple of seconds passed, and then understanding dawned in her eyes. “You're worried your forwardness may have altered his opinion of you?”
“How could it not?” Turning her face away, Mary stared at the wall.
“Because of how much he obviously likes you. Whenever he looks at you, his eyes light up.” Cassandra shifted and the mattress rocked against her weight. “He's also a man in his prime, Mary. To suppose he'd be put off by any physical response on your part would be absurd. Rather, I imagine he was striving to protect you, because although I know I've been encouraging you to let passion guide you, losing your innocence is no small matter. I think you would have regretted a quick tumble in the parlor, and I am convinced Mr. Crawford knew this as well, even if you disagree.”
“I'm not so sure I do anymore.” Expelling a tremulous breath, Mary sat up and leaned against the headrest. She accepted the tea Cassandra gave her and took a long sip. “At the time, I was desperate to remove every barrier between us so I could feel his hands on my skin. The need to be touched by him, to join with him in the most basic way, was so overwhelming it robbed me of all common sense.” She shook her head, still stunned by the powerful effect he'd had on her. “It was as if I were starved, and he were the key to my survival.”
Cassandra smiled. “I know what you mean.” She tilted her head. “Don't you think he felt the same way?”
Remembering, Mary could not deny the possessiveness of Caleb’s embrace or the scorching hot kisses he'd placed against her skin. “Maybe,” she allowed.
“Maybe?” Cassandra gave her a dubious look.
Mary sighed. “It doesn't matter.”
“Of course it does, Mary. Right now, it is the only thing that matters considering the subject we're discussing.” Inhaling deeply, Cassandra held the breath for a beat before expelling it. “His reaction to your” –she waved a hand— “over eagerness and your absolute certainty that he now thinks you a harlot.”
“Have you seen him yet this morning?” Mary asked, deliberately circumnavigating that comment.
Cassandra nodded. “He rode into the village just before I came to see why you're still in bed. He said he needed to run a few errands and purchase more nails for the planks in the attic.”
“So there's no risk of seeing him if I come down for breakfast?”
“No.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You could have said so when you walked in ten minutes ago, Cass. I'm so hungry I might eat you if you're not careful.”
Cassandra laughed and scooted back so Mary could rise. Cassandra's laughter faded and she seriously asked “Do you realize how silly you're being?”
Mary paused in the process of opening her wardrobe. She stood there, completely still, staring at her dull collection of drab-colored clothes. To one side, hung the white gown she'd worn last night.
“Yes,” she said, answering Cassandra's question, “but the embarrassment I feel is crippling.”
“I can see that, Mary. But ignoring Mr. Crawford isn't the answer.” Cassandra went to the door and opened it slightly. “Not when he wants to talk to you. I believe he said there was much for the two of you to discuss when I quizzed him about what happened.”
Mary turned toward Cassandra with a sharp inhale, but her friend was already slipping out into the hallway and then the door was closing, and before Mary knew it, she was alone.
Sighing, she picked out a moss-green gown with long sleeves and a square shaped neckline. It was simple yet elegant and suited her well, which was perfect, for although she wasn't ready to face Mr. Crawford just yet, she did want to look somewhat attractive when she eventually did.
