“Not as such.”
“Not as such,” he repeated thoughtfully, slowly. His eyes glinted, amused. “I think that’s aristocrat for ‘no.’”
“My hand and my cheek, he has,” she said, irritably. “He’s certainly capable of it.”
He smiled at that again.
Her blush renewed itself.
For heaven’s sake, she’d never been a blusher before.
“Are there anyotherkisses you want to mention?” he tried.
“Not unless you want to mention all of yours.”
He grinned at this, crookedly.
And this, for some perverse reason, this made her smile.
She frankly didn’t want to spend any time wondering how he’d gotten so good at kissing. Talent, experience, and the fact that he liked it a good deal, she supposed. All the reasons she was good at watercolors.
Although it always helped to have a muse to really surpass oneself.
“Since there will be two waltzes tonight, and he hasn’t given it away, I wonder if perhaps you ought to dance with Giles to get a sense of how he’s feeling in the wake of your momentous news. And while you do that, I’d like to spend a little time in the library with your father and his friends.”
“Very well. A sound plan. Why the library?”
“Because I like your father and he ought to be able to face his friends over his daughter’s sudden engagement to a previously unknown American. And by that, I mean I’d like him to be proud to be associated with me. And also... because many of his friends are wealthy and influential and could conceivably become my friends, which is splendid, because it’s wonderful to have friends, and could potentially be useful one day.”
He smiled at her widened eyes.
“I meant it when I’d said I’d have an empire, Lillias. Not just for my sake. But for the sake of the family I raise. For generations of Cassidys to come. My family will never want for anything, and we will never take anything that isn’t our due.”
There was an unaccountable quiet thrill in hearing him speak this way. He sounded deadly serious.
Who would be “the Cassidys” if their plan to arouse Giles’s spirit of competition succeeded?
She felt a strange sense of restlessness, almost panic, at the notion that she would never know.
She didn’t doubt he’d charm all the viscounts, barons, earls, and heirs who managed to crowd into the library. “Everything is valuable,” he’d said. How rich and different and interesting, somehow, the whole world seemed when viewed through that lens. She wanted to sort through everything she knew and assess it in that light.
“And if I do make a good impression, it will inspire the spirit of competition in Giles should he hear of it, which he no doubt will, gossip being what it is.”
“Well, I commend you for your strategic thinking, Mr. Cassidy.”
“That means everything to me.”
She gave a little laugh. Oddly, she wasn’t entirely certain he was joking.
After another little silence, during which Hugh continued studying her with that intent little frown between his eyes, she said, “Did you plan to marry Amelia when you return with her to America?”
For nearly an entire rotation of a ballroom he didn’t answer the question. “She was what I envisioned when I imagined the kind of wife I’d have.”
“I think that’s ‘Hugh Cassidy’ for ‘yes.’”
He laughed shortly. Not entirely amused.
She was reluctant to press him. She certainly had the right to do it. But strangely, she wanted to protect him. She sensed he’d been gravely hurt, and that his vulnerability was even more guarded than her own, and possibly equivalent to his strength. And as she’d told him that night on the roof, the notion of him hurting for any reason was distasteful.
