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Cassian kept his hands balled at his sides, forcing himself not to plant a fist in the man’s shocked face.
“A gentleman departs when a lady tells him to.” Cassian stepped closer, backing the knave farther into the hallway. “Go. Now.”
The coward seemed to see something in Cassian’s expression that convinced him, and he began to storm off. Then he stopped, turned, and cast Cassian a glare.
From his position a few steps away, he shouted, “Daphne, I didn’t mean?—”
Cassian stepped into the library and slammed the door shut.
He heard her let out another shaky sigh before he turned to face her.
“Are you all right?” He reached for her instinctively, a hand on her arm.
They were close enough that when she reached up and pressed her palm against his waistcoat, he wasn’t certain whether she was pushing him away. But then her fingers curled around the edge of his coat’s lapel, holding him in place.
Some of his fury at the wastrel he’d found her wish eased at that. He’d stay with her as long as she wanted him to because he was exactly where he wished to be.
“Good heavens,” she whispered, “I’ve never kicked a man before.”
“He deserved that and more.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. Unshed tears glittered in her lashes. And it twisted something inside Cassian to watch one slip down the pink-flushed slope of her cheek.
He forced himself not to touch his fingertip to her skin.
Swiping at her cheek, she let out a shaky breath. Then she released him and took a step back. “I am well, Lord Windham. Or I soon will be.” With a hand pressed to her middle, she worked to steady her breathing. Then she focused her attention on the closed door.
Cassian immediately realized the impropriety of shutting himself inside with her. “Perhaps we should head back?—”
“No, I…need a moment.”
“Would you prefer that I go?”
“Propriety dictates that you should.” She stepped forward, as close as she’d been a moment ago. “But I haven’t thanked you yet.”
“You needn’t thank me.” Cassian couldn’t resist matching her movement and inching a bit closer.
“And I haven’t explained that I did not arrange to meet Mr. Moreland.”
“You needn’t explain yourself to me either.” But he did file the man’s name away in his mind.
“I came seeking a moment alone, and he found me. Or perhaps he followed me. I confess I didn’t know he was in attendance this evening. We are acquainted .” Her emphasis on the word held a bitter note.
“If you fear he’ll trouble you further, I’ll have a word with him.”
“I want nothing more to do with him.”
Cassian nodded. “Then he won’t come near you again.”
She studied him a moment, assessing, just as she’d done the night they’d met. As if she wished to know how he meant to put a stop to Moreland’s attentions.
Though she didn’t ask the unspoken question, he vowed to do whatever was necessary to ensure the knave never troubled her again.
“I feel like a fool.”
A shiver seemed to rush through her, and Cassian slipped off his evening coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She blinked up at him as if shocked by the gesture.
“Why would you, Miss Bridewell?”
She hesitated.
“If you don’t wish to divulge more, I understand.” The lady had no reason to confide in him. And, of course, he didn’t deserve her trust.
“For some reason, I find that I want to.” Her eyes fixed on his. “Though I’d beg you to never speak of it to anyone.”
“Of course. You have my word.”
She licked her lips and drew her brows together. “I did encourage him once. Not tonight, but not so long ago either.” Dipping her head, she studied the carpet under their feet. “He was charming.”
Head tipped up, she gave him a look that said like you . But, of course, she would be thinking of the man she believed him to be.
“I was ridiculously smitten.” The admission caused her to swallow hard.
A rogue flare of jealousy welled up in Cassian—a nonsensical feeling. She was not his and never could be.
“I was reckless,” she said more softly.
Cassian took a step closer. “He did not deserve your affection, Miss Bridewell, but you cannot berate yourself for your feelings.”
“Can I not?” Her eyes glittered with emotion. “I should have been discerning. Less trusting. Less naive. I came into the Season so hopeful for romance that I fell for the first man to show me a scrap of attention. Now that my wits once failed me so entirely, I don’t trust myself at all.”
“Hopefulness and innocence aren’t failings,” Cassian insisted. “Treachery is.”
Good God, had he ever been more of a hypocrite in his life? Part of him wanted to warn her that she should not trust him . A greater part of him wanted to confess everything because he ached to be a man she could trust.
She seemed to mull his words. “Well, at least I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never again be such a fool. And I mean to warn every lady I know about men like Moreland.”
“Men were deceivers ever.” Cassian winced. The Bard’s wisdom rarely failed.
Her eyes, still glossy, lit with bit of amusement. “Mr. Shakespeare’s wisdom does seem instructive here.” After letting out a sigh, she added, “Which is why I shouldn’t have agreed to assist you.” She shook her head as if to emphasize how much she regretted it.
“I shouldn’t have asked you. I only wanted to…” Cassian caught himself, but the truth was all but clawing its way up this throat.
“To what?”
“To get a lady’s perspective on the whole matter. Your perspective.”
Their gazes held a moment too long.
“You may not be who I thought you were, but you do seem sincere.”
He gritted his teeth. All this talk of treachery and sincerity had his gut in knots. He wanted to tell her…
What? That it was her company he craved? That she was the only one he wanted in his arms for each dance he stumbled through?
He hadn’t ever properly courted a woman. Hadn’t ever had cause to consider it. The navy had been his life and succeeding in his profession had consumed all his time, but for a handful of dalliances.
Julian was the one for whom marriage was a necessity, so Cassian had never given much thought to it himself.
Now, he had nothing to offer a lady like Miss Daphne Bridewell.
Hell, she didn’t even know his name. She was lovely, kind, protective, loyal.
She deserved to be courted properly. To be loved deeply. To be adored.
There was only a fortnight left in the Season, but he needed the ruse to end. Lying to everyone and tormenting himself with this impossible attraction to a young woman who’d already been ill-treated by a deceptive man? No.
He’d go back to Scotland. He would leave things cordial with Lady Selina, leaving no doubt of his—Julian’s—interest, and then his brother could write to her of his intentions once Cassian left London.
He’d send a telegram to Julian and tell him as much first thing in the morning.
“We should return to the ballroom,” she said quietly. She’d been watching him while he’d been lost in thought. “But we should go separately.”
“Of course.” Cassian understood propriety even if he’d rarely had cause to adhere to its rules. “Why don’t you precede me? I’ll wait a while and then return too.”
“Thank you for what you did, Lord Windham.”
“I believe it was your kick that did it.”
She gifted him with a lovely smile, then it faded as her brows furrowed. “Why did you happen upon this room?”
“I was looking for you.” It felt liberating to admit that simple truth.
“Oh.” She searched his eyes.
Cassian wondered if she saw it all there—how often he thought of her; that he’d dreamed of her last night; how he was drawn to her despite every reason he shouldn’t be.
“Of course,” she finally said. “You came for advice regarding Selina.”
“Actually, I?—”
“As a thanks, I’ll tell you this. Tomorrow a group is going to Kew Gardens, including Selina. Lord Knowles organized the outing, and I’m sure he’d be willing to add you.”
Cassian tapped his fingers against his leg. He’d just decided to be done with this whole thing, but now she’d offered something Julian would have jumped at.
“Are you going?” he asked.
“Yes, Selina invited me.”
That sealed it. Before he stopped this farce and returned to Scotland, he’d have one more chance to spend time with her and in a place he’d long wanted to see.
“Then I shall see you tomorrow.”