“Certainly. But has it ever occurred to you that men don’t like being ignored?”
“Ignoring you has been near impossible since you showed up in my kitchen of all places and promptly proceeded to try to talk me into something I don’t want to do.”
He tilted his head. The edge of his mouth lifted to form a somewhat roguish smile and heaven help her if her heart didn’t beat just a little bit faster. “You blocked me at every turn, Cass, making it near impossible for me to make my case. Not to mention that you ran away, leaving me with no choice but to cross the greater part of southern England for what should have been a half hour chat at your brother’s home in London.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, then stopped herself since she had to admit he did have a point. She huffed out a breath. “Very well.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Very well?”
She pursed her lips, reluctant to show any hint of acquiescence and yet unwilling to be the difficult harridan she wished she was able to be at the moment. “Since you did travel all the way here, it would be badly done of me not to hear you out.”
She was tempted to add, “Even though it’s your fault we’re in this mess,” but chose to take the higher ground and refrain. As it was, she was rather exhausted from all the arguing she’d engaged in that morning.
“Thank you.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the table while studying her in a way that made her skin grow uncomfortably tight. Eventually he stood, came around to where she sat, and extended his hand. “The outdoors will offer a more pleasant atmosphere for this conversation.”
Cassandra stared at his hand, half dreading having to touch it. Unlike the night of the Camberly ball, he wore no gloves and neither did she. But to think of an excuse while he stood there expectantly waiting for her to accept his escort was impossible.
So she took a deep breath and placed her hand in his. An immediate shock of awareness shot up her arm and caused her to freeze. His fingers closed around hers with deliberate firmness, alerting her to the calluses he’d obtained from his work. Swallowing, Cassandra rose. She’d never thought of him as being the sort who engaged in manual labor the way Caleb did. As a captain, she would have expected those under his command to do the arduous tasks while he enjoyed a life more in line with Griffin’s, whose passion was building clocks, mechanical toys, and music boxes.
“I like that color on you,” Devlin said, allowing his gaze to consume her turquoise gown as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “It suits you extremely well.”
Heat rose to Cassandra’s cheeks. A flutter of nerves caused her stomach to wriggle. She forced herself to be polite while hating how easily he could affect her. “Thank you.”
“No compliment in return?” he asked when they’d gone a few paces in silence.
His voice was jovial, his scent a delicious combination of sandalwood and something earthy she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She was rather tempted to lean in closer and breathe him in, but since she knew she’d despise herself for it immediately after, she kept herself firmly in check.
“Your boots,” she told him, deliberately mentioning something safe that had nothing to do with the way he was able to quicken her pulse with one look. “They appear to be very well made.”
“So they are.” He spoke in a pensive tone underscored by a fleck of curiosity. “I ordered them for myself while I was in India. The leather is excellent quality.”
“I see.” Because really, what else could she say without delving into the intricacies of cobbling and the best sort of animal to use when crafting a pair of Hessians? Truthfully, she had no interest at all in such a subject, so she chose to say nothing more until they stepped out of the house.
Glancing up, she caught Devlin’s gaze. The intensity she found there made her so uncertain and weak, she felt compelled to repeat what she’d told him earlier just to maintain some sense of stability. “Whatever it is you think you can say to sway me won’t work. I have no intention of marrying anyone, Devlin. Certainly not for the sake of avoiding a scandal.”
“Let’s head in this direction,” he said and steered her toward the lake.
“But—”
“It’s such a beautiful day. Don’t you agree?” His hold on her tightened a little – just enough to bring her arm flush against his. “Look at the way the sun’s light spills across those flowers over there. Everything looks so vibrant and…” He inhaled deeply. “The air is wonderfully fresh and the birds are singing. There’s life here, Cass, everywhere as far as the eye can see.”
“It’s the same at sea, is it not?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “In a way, I suppose. The seas and oceans are certainly full of life, but it’s different when it’s beneath you. One doesn’t see that life or interact with it as one does on land.”
“And yet you continue to leave.” A couple of birds took flight as she and Devlin approached.
“I suppose I’ve developed a taste for travelling. Plus, a seafaring life does have its appeal.”
“How can being confined to a single vessel for months on end be better than having the freedom to walk for as many miles as you wish, to enjoy a picnic with friends, to go for a ride or...” She twirled her free hand. “Or to simply know all these things are possible the moment you walk out the door?”
“You’re only considering the time between places and even then there’s a humbling vastness one tends to forget when one cannot see further than to the next village.” His voice had taken on an almost dreamy quality that held her attention. “But out on the water, the distance is endless and we so small, it opens one’s eyes to one’s place in the world. Then, once the destination is reached, a new world filled with unfamiliar sights, people, and senses beckons to be explored. And it becomes startlingly clear that we English, who pride ourselves on being so cultured and learned, are shockingly ignorant.”
What he said made sense. “I suppose knowledge is limited to one’s experiences, unless one takes the time to read about the experiences of others.”
He frowned and twisted his mouth a bit as if in thought. “You’re right, but you’re also misunderstanding me.” When she glanced at him in question, he explained. “I’m not suggesting the English don’t know about other cultures or lack the ability to appreciate them. What I’m saying is that other cultures make our own look bloody ridiculous.”
Cassandra’s lips started to twitch and for some absurd reason, Devlin apologizing for his curse only made it worse. Within two more seconds, she was choking back laughter, without even knowing why. His comment hadn’t been especially funny, yet something about his iteration, the use of profanity, and his facial expression made it hilarious. Imagining a haughty lady and gentleman worrying over afternoon tea or whether to stand or sit in each other’s presence while fighting off mosquitoes in some foreign land also helped.
