Caleb leaned in, as did Griffin. “What do you propose?” they both asked in unison.
The edge of Lady Cassandra’s mouth lifted into a devious little grin. “A courtship unlike any other.”
Emotionally exhausted, Mary started back toward the house, fishing rod in hand. She wasn’t sure what she would say to the duke when she saw him again since nothing she’d thought of so far could properly convey her heartache. Worst of all, she feared there was nothing he could ever say or do to make things right between them again.
Wishing he’d left the house while simultaneously hoping he was still inside, Mary entered through the kitchen, returned the shawl she’d borrowed to the chair on which she’d found it, and approached the parlor. She still had no answers when she opened the door and almost collided with Cassandra, who was coming the opposite way with the tea tray in her hands.
“Oh. There you are,” Cassandra said, steadying herself against the door frame. “I was just thinking I’d come out and look for you if you weren’t back in another ten minutes.”
“I needed some time to think and to simply process everything that’s happened this afternoon.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Cassandra stepped past her and walked toward the kitchen.
“I see His Grace has left the parlor,” Mary said with a quick glance inside the room. “And he took his brother with him, I take it?”
“Indeed he did.”
Mary couldn’t believe it. “They can’t both stay in that small cottage. There’s not enough space, never mind an additional bed.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about any of that any longer, Mary. His Grace and his brother have both returned to London, so everything can finally go back to normal.”
“But…” Mary’s stomach twisted in a most unsettling way. It couldn’t be true. Surely. “He has not completed his work in the attic yet, Cass.”
“Actually, he says he did so last week and was only staying on because it was hard for him to leave you. But then you said what you said and well, here we are.”
“But…he didn’t even bid me farewell.”
“He wanted to,” Cass said, “but with the weather being what it is and darkness sure to set in within the next couple of hours, they wanted to be on their way, so I said I’d tell you on their behalf.”
Their behalf. Not his.
Mary didn’t like it at all.
“But—”
“That’s three buts in under a minute, Mary.” Cassandra set the tray down and turned to face her. “Are you certain you wanted him to leave?”
“I never said anything about him leaving,” Mary said, surprising herself with the level of her indignation.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked as she poked her head through the doorway. “The children are hoping for warm milk and biscuits, so I’ve come to prepare some.”
“Mary’s having second thoughts about asking the Duke of Camberly to leave,” Cassandra said. She handed Emily a pot to heat the milk in.
“I never…” Mary blew out a breath of frustration and counted to ten. “I never told anyone to leave.”
“It was implied,” Cassandra said.
Emily glanced at Mary as if observing a painting that hadn’t come out right. “Did she not like the part about Mr. Crawford being a duke?”
“Not particularly,” Cassandra said out of the corner of her mouth.
“Because he lied to me,” Mary told them both. She pulled the biscuit tin off the shelf and began placing biscuits on a plate with angry little movements. “He knew I hated his kind, so he deliberately hid it from me.”
“Actually,” Emily said, “he didn’t know that at all when he met you.”
“Very well. He learned of it along the way, but that does not change the fact that he deliberately hid it from me.”
“Do you think there’s a chance that by the time he realized how much he liked you, it was too late to tell you the truth?” Emily asked.
