Devlin blinked. Penelope had spoken softly and yet so deliberately, it was impossible not to pay attention.
“Penelope,” Cassandra murmured. “This isn’t an appropriate subject of conversation for us to have at the table.”
“Maybe not,” Penelope grumbled, “but that doesn’t make my point any less valid.”
“I agree,” James said, in response to which the rest of the children nodded like tiny members of parliament giving their opinions.
Cassandra sighed while Devlin did his best to hide the smile forming on his face. “Be that as it may, my position on the matter is firm.”
“You say that as if this is all about you and what you want when—”
“Enough, Penelope.” Cassandra’s words sliced the air. Her daughter’s mouth transformed into a tight line.
“Perhaps we should try to fly the kites after breakfast,” Katherine suggested.
“You had a father,” Penelope told her mother while jutting her chin up and straightening her back. “He might not have been a very good one, but I’m sure he was better than nothing at all.” She shoved back her chair and stood, eyes shimmering with the threat of tears, her face a deep shade of red.
Devlin had to admire her perseverance and her courage. To stand up against a parent so publically when one had been raised in a world built on manners and etiquette required some serious resolve. Curious to see Cassandra’s reaction, he returned his attention to her and saw she’d gone horribly pale. His heart stuttered slightly and his stomach made an uncomfortable dive. Penelope’s words had clearly hurt her, and as much as Devlin appreciated having the girl as an ally, he could not let that pass.
“Penny,” he said, his words too loud in the silence, “apologize to your mother.”
“But—”
“Do it now, please.” He caught the girl’s gaze and held it, conveying to her without the use of words that he was grateful for her help but that he believed she’d crossed a line.
She swallowed and gave a quick nod. “Forgive me, Mama.”
“Of course,” Cassandra said, but she spoke as if her mind was no longer present.
“May I be excused?” Penelope asked.
When Cassandra didn’t answer, Katherine gave her consent, upon which Penelope grabbed her plate and glass and quickly exited the room. The rest of the children eyed each other as if to discern the overall mood and whether or not it would be all right to speak.
Eventually it was Henry who said, “I think your idea to fly the kites is a great one.”
“We could make it a competition,” William said.
“Based on who can fly the highest or which one stays airborne the longest?” Sarah asked.
The conversation continued until everyone was done eating, the children’s chatter growing increasingly boisterous as they began to plan out the teams. “But I don’t want to be with Clyde,” Henry grumbled as he followed the rest of the children out into the hallway later. “His kite crashed the last three times and…” The rest of his words trailed off as he disappeared to some other part of the house.
“Well, I suppose I’d best go and find those kites,” Katherine said. She stood and picked up the tray filled with empty serving dishes. When Devlin started to rise, prepared to offer assistance, she shook her head discreetly and shifted her eyes deliberately toward Cassandra.
“I’ll help,” Cassandra blurted. She reached for the teapot only to have it whisked out of reach by Devlin who offered a wide open grin in response to her thunderous glower.
“I’d like to have another cup if you don’t mind.” And since his aim was to keep her from leaving, he deliberately poured for her while Katherine slipped quietly out of the room. The door closed with a soft click, leaving him utterly alone with a fetching virago.
Chapter 5
It wasdifficult for Cassandra to describe precisely what she was feeling. So many emotions, from anger to disappointment, to heartache and humiliation, churned inside her, whipping up memories so long buried she was half tempted to board the next ship out of England and never return. Ironic that the man she wanted to escape the most had the power to make this wish come true. She looked at him while trying to figure out what exactly to say.
What could she say that had not already been said? She’d told him to leave, but he was still here, she’d asked him to drop the subject of marriage, yet he’d brought it up in front of everyone. The infuriating man had even managed to make an ally of Penelope, who was most likely upstairs right now in her room, crying because she wanted something Cassandra couldn’t provide.
“You had no right,” she said, the pain Penelope’s words had caused like an open wound still raw to the touch.
“You’re correct,” he said, holding her gaze from across the table, “but it was the best way, perhaps even the only way, to make you listen.”
She crossed her arms with a snort. “Has it never occurred to you that women don’t like to be forced to do a man’s bidding?”
