“What?” He barely made out the word.
Raising his voice a notch, he said, “I wanted to—”
She said something he couldn’t discern. Devlin sighed and stared at the door. He knocked again.
There was a pause and then the door handle moved. He took a step back, prepared to convey his idea the moment she opened the door completely, but the perfectly structured sentence he’d had at the ready stumbled and fell off the tip of his tongue like a drunkard as soon as he saw her.
He tried not to gape or stare or look like he’d never seen a woman before, but he feared he wasn’t entirely successful. Although it wasn’t exactly his fault when she stood before him dressed in the sort of nightgown designed to make a man want a hell of a lot more than friendship. Not that it was seductive, per se, but it was cut from muslin so sheer he could clearly make out the shape of her body beneath. Lord, how his fingers itched to reach out and touch her. Just a little.
“I…er…ah…” He cleared his throat and tried again while gazing at a spot on the wall behind her left shoulder. “I thought it might be nice to eat breakfast together in the morning.”
“Um…” She sounded uncertain and slightly confused.
“You can knock on the door once you’re ready.”
“Oh. All right.”
He frowned. Was he imagining things or was she having trouble with words as well? Hazarding a quick glance at her face, he noted she looked slightly dazed. Or tired. Hell, she’d probably fallen asleep with the oil lamp still burning only to have him jolt her awake.
“Good. I will see you in the morning then. Sleep well and don’t forget to turn down the light.”
She nodded. “You too. I mean, sleep well, that is.”
The door closed between them, leaving Devlin to ponder their awkward exchange. He scratched his head. Something about it perplexed him though he couldn’t quite figure out what. Sighing, he removed his shirt and the rest of his clothes, climbed into bed, and prayed for sleep to save him from the discomfort his wife was causing.
Chapter 7
Four days later,Cassandra watched from the parlor window of Camberly House as her luggage was loaded onto the carriage that would take it, her, and Penelope to the harbor. To avoid difficult questions and explanations, Devlin had claimed he had a lot of things to attend to before departure and that he preferred spending the remainder of his days and nights in England on board the ship.
In a way, Cassandra had been glad to avoid sharing a bedchamber with him. After seeing him in only his shirt, gaping open to allow a clear view of his chest, she hadn’t thought her brain would ever function properly again. A rush of heat settled over her skin at the memory of it, and she deliberately closed her eyes, desperate to block it out, but of course that just made it worse.
With a low groan, she turned away from the window and went to join Mary and the children, who’d all assembled for afternoon tea and strawberry tarts fresh out of the oven. Hopefully, they would be able to distract her from her body’s betrayal and from the thoughts she had no business having. Devlin might be her husband, but only by law. When it came to her heart and soul, she belonged to Timothy and Timothy alone.
“Is something troubling you?” Mary asked once the children finished eating and all headed out for a walk with one of the maids. “You look more sullen than I would have expected, considering your newly married state and upcoming travels.”
“I’m fine,” Cassandra lied and immediately added, “it’s just…” When her friend merely waited for her to continue, Cassandra confessed, “I’m not sure marrying Devlin was the right thing to do.”
Mary’s eyes widened. Her head tilted slightly to one side. “Why do you say that?”
Cassandra drew a deep breath and felt the air quiver across her lips. “Because I’ll never be the wife he deserves. I…I told him I’d never be able to…to be more than a friend and that my only reason for marrying him was for Penelope’s sake.” Lord, it sounded terrible. “He accepted all of this, but I worry I did him a serious disservice by not turning him down. I was thinking of Penelope’s future and now… I think I must be the most selfish woman in existence.” She clasped one hand to her mouth. “Oh God, Mary, what have I done?”
“The right thing, that’s what,” Mary told her. “You’re not a foolish woman, Cass.”
“My parents would argue that point.”
“They can go hang, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
Cassandra’s lips twitched and then she was suddenly laughing instead of crying as she’d expected to do only two seconds earlier. “It’s quite all right, Mary. I rather agree.”
Mary gave her a pensive look that turned her expression more serious. “You married Devlin in order to safeguard your and your daughter’s reputations. There is nothing wrong with that when the man himself was determined to make you do it.”
“I suppose he did chase after me all the way to Clearview. And I did tell him what to expect.”
“Then he has no reason to want something else. Does he?”
“Not really, I suppose.” The real problem was that Cassandra didn’t know if she could trust herself to stay loyal to a memory when a real flesh and blood man was hers for the taking.
Mary smiled and offered Cassandra a strawberry tart. “You should stop worrying and trust things to work out as they’re supposed to.”
