“I cannot put myself in your shoes,” Mary said. She placed her hand over Cassandra’s. “If I were to lose Caleb, I’d be devastated. But having said that, I do believe in second chances. And I think this is yours, Cass.”
Cassandra took a deep breath and returned her cup to its saucer. “Maybe.” It was the best response she could give without torturing herself or her friends with her muddled emotions. She and Timothy hadn’t been married, and he’d now been dead for over a decade. Most people would probably say it was past time for her to move on.
But it wasn’t so simple. Not when she’d known Timothy all her life. Their parents had been close friends, and he’d attended Eton with her brother. As she’d grown older, what had begun as admiration for the older boy who could make coins appear and disappear as if by magic and who always had a joke ready to make her laugh had evolved into the fiercest kind of love she’d ever known. During the year leading up to their engagement, he’d become her best friend, her closest confidant, and the single most important person in her life.
Losing him would probably have killed her, had it not been for Penelope. So she thanked God for her daughter’s existence, and every night before falling asleep, she whispered the pledge she’d made to Timothy while she’d been lying in his arms.I am yours and you are mine, forever and always, no matter what.
“Are you ready?”
Cassandra started. She’d been so lost in the past she’d forgotten her surroundings completely. She blinked and looked up. Devlin was standing next to her seat, waiting for her to respond.
“Yes. Of course.” Aware all eyes were on her, she rose and accepted his escort. Together they took their leave of everyone before heading outside to the awaiting carriage. They would be spending the night at Mivart’s Hotel while Penelope remained behind at Camberly House.
Devlin helped Cassandra into the carriage then took a seat beside her on the bench. As the conveyance rolled into motion, he reached for her hand. Cassandra tried to relax but her stomach fluttered like mad in anticipation of how the evening would unfold. Would he remember their agreement or would he expect her to do her wifely duty? He could force her if he chose to. He’d have every right. No one would fault him. But Devlin wasn’t that sort of man, so she knew he’d respect her wishes eventually. She just didn’t want to argue over it.
“It’s been a busy day,” he said, wrapping his fingers more securely around hers. “We’ve scarcely had time to talk.”
“I know.” She chuckled, the sound thinner than she would have liked. Hoping to hide the evidence of her unease, she quickly added, “Your mother’s efforts paid off though. It was a beautiful party with excellent food.” While Mary and Emily had both pitched in and Cassandra had done her part as well, the dowager duchess had been the driving force behind the wedding arrangements.
“I think she’s very relieved to have married me off. And,” he added with a hint of deep appreciation, “to the loveliest woman in the world, no less.” Leaning closer, he told her softly, “You are an exceptionally beautiful bride, Cass.”
“Tha—thank you.” And now she couldn’t speak properly. Taking a long slow breath, she tried to steady her nerves. “You made a handsome groom. That blue color suits you very well.” She cleared her throat and fought the temptation to kick herself. Which would be a difficult feat to accomplish anyway since—
“I’m not going to press my advances, Cass.”
“Wha—what?”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re so tense right now I worry you might implode, and the only reason I can imagine for such a state is anxiety over what to expect. Am I correct?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”
Grinning, he scooted away from her slightly. “We have an agreement, so unless you’ve decided to renegotiate…” He paused until she shook her head. “I won’t force the issue. Which is why I’ve arranged for two adjoining rooms tonight instead of just one. If you’re amenable to the idea, I thought we might talk, have some dinner, and maybe play a game of cards before retiring to our respective beds.”
“That would be lovely, Devlin.” Her voice cracked this time, not because of her nerves but because he’d managed to touch a place deep within her soul. Her eyes pricked, forcing her to turn her attention toward the window and the scenery beyond. “Thank you,” she whispered, even though no words could convey the scope of her appreciation.
“Think nothing of it, Cass. My only concern from now on is to make you and Penelope happy.”
The emotion filling her heart overflowed and tears spilled onto her cheek. Whatever doubts she’d had about marrying Devlin were swept away and replaced by assurance. He was the kindest, most selfless man ever to walk the earth, and she was the luckiest woman alive to call herself his wife.
After checking into the hotel,Devlin and Cassandra decided to take a walk through Vauxhall Garden instead of spending the entire evening indoors. They stopped to eat dinner in one of the supper boxes before going to watch the infamous Cascade and firework display.
At some point they even began discussing the tactical errors Napoleon had made during the war. It wasn’t the sort of conversation they’d ever engaged in before, and Devlin was impressed to learn that Cassandra knew her political history remarkably well. So much so he was loath for their discussion to end. But when they returned to the hotel and he escorted Cassandra upstairs, she slowed her pace as they approached their rooms.
“It’s been a lovely day,” she said. “The wedding was perfect and I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together this evening.” They reached her door and drew to a halt. “You mentioned cards earlier, but I’m actually quite tired.” She bit her lip before hesitantly asking, “Do you mind if I retire instead?”
“Of course not,” It was in truth rather late and he was pretty exhausted himself. “Perhaps you’ll share your views on the War of 1812 tomorrow?”
“Only if you’re prepared for them to be controversial.” She followed the comment with a cheeky smile, and he almost cheered because she’d obviously managed to relax in his presence.
The camaraderie they’d returned to and the additional gumption she’d revealed pleased him beyond compare. She was slowly making him realize she had a boisterous streak, permitting her to joke and tease in the best way possible.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said in response to her comment. An odd, not exactly uncomfortable but somewhat inquisitive pause followed. She bit her lip and he wondered whether to say something more. Eventually, he decided to raise her hand to his lips for a reverent kiss, after which he wished her goodnight and promptly removed himself to his own room.
Roughly twenty minutes later, he remembered that he’d forgotten to tell her to knock on his door in the morning when she awoke so they could go down for breakfast together. One glance at their connecting door and the sliver of light beneath confirmed she was still awake. So Devlin put his shirt back on and knocked.
It felt like eternity passed before he heard her voice on the opposite side. “Yes?’ The question was muffled.
“I wanted to tell you to—”
