Page 5 of Dare to be Wicked

“You need not do anything, not yet. Take pleasure in seeing your friend again, talk to her of everything you’ve done and let these weeks unfold as they will. You are among friends and family. There is time, Cassius. Maybe you will realise it was merely cold feet and she is the one you want above all others, and you may propose with a happy heart, or it may be that she too will be relieved. You are not the only one who has changed during your time apart.”

Cassius nodded and let out a slow breath. He had been out with his father when Eliza and her family had arrived, and the ladies had immediately gone to change out of their travelling clothes.

“Prue has gone for a lie down, but I suggested a walk about the gardens to Bedwin and the girls.” his mother said. “I always prefer to stretch my legs after a carriage journey, and it will give you a chance to introduce the friends you brought with you in an informal setting. I imagine they all will be awaiting us by now, so we had best not delay.”

“It will be good to see everyone again,” he said, offering his arm. “The children must have grown up so much.”

“They have indeed. Fred is becoming a fine young man, and Harry quite a handful. Rosamund and Victoria promise to be every bit as lovely as their sisters, naturally.”

Cassius guided his mother out onto the terrace where their guests awaited, seated beneath a shady awning. A tea tray was set out with jugs of lemonade and plates of cakes and biscuits displayed prettily among cut glass bowls of sweet peas and roses. The duke, who had been leaning against the balustrade, straightened and smiled warmly as they approached.

“Harriet, your hospitality is as wonderful as always. We so look forward to our visits to Holbrook.”

“And we to having you all here. Jasper will join us shortly, and he is very much looking forward to seeing you again.”

Bedwin nodded his approval and turned to Cassius. “Well, young man, your travels appear to have agreed with you. How good to see you, and looking so well.”

“I am well, sir, and it is a pleasure to be home and in such excellent company.”

Movement to the duke’s left caught Cassius’s attention, and he turned his head to discover Eliza smiling at him. She was as neat as a new pin, her presence as calm and reassuring, as dearly familiar as the scent of rain on an English summer day.

“It is good to have you home, Cassius,” she said softly.

All at once his anxieties fell away, replaced by the simple pleasure of seeing his friend. They had been playmates since they were little more than months old, and no amount of fallings out and childish bickering had ever impacted on a relationship that had steadied them both through the ups and downs of their lives.

“Eliza.” Cassius put out his hands to her and Eliza took them. He looked down for a moment, seeing her slender fingers engulfed by his much larger hands, her skin ivory white against his golden tan. She wore a pretty muslin gown with a small, printed pattern, and a cap of white tulle and lace and ribbons hid most of her glossy dark hair. When he met her gaze, her green eyes lit with pleasure. “It is good to see you again.”

She smiled a wide, radiant smile that made him grin.

“Ah, and here is Lottie, late as usual,” Bedwin said with a chuckle.

Cassius turned his head to greet Eliza’s naughty little sister. Two years Eliza’s junior, she had driven Eliza to distraction when they were younger, always pleading to be a part of their secrets and their games, but Cassius had always liked her and enjoyed her mad schemes. Most of the trouble they’d been caught in as children had been of Lottie’s devising.

“Lottie,” he began, but whatever he’d been about to say he could not fathom as his gaze settled on her and his breath caught in his throat.

He could not breathe, could not think. Time froze as a creature exploded onto the terrace, so vivacious and vibrant that everyone else seemed to be a paper cut out. She burst out of the doors in a flurry of skirts and petticoats, everything about her alive, everything in motion, running to him with every expression of joy. Before he could speak or react, she had flung her arms about his neck and Cassius was enveloped in softness and a frothy excess of femininity. Acres of lace and silk and rustling petticoats foamed about his legs like a gentle sea, and instinctively his hands went to her waist and… oh. what a waist. She was slender and yet curvaceous in all the right places, her hips flaring and… and her breasts pressing against his chest. Desire slammed into him, hot and fierce and totally unexpected, wrong-footing him so he did not know what to do, what to say. The scent of her rose about him, delicate and yet maddening. The barely there perfume of jasmine tinged with something green, something fresh and spring-like, and—oh God—the scent of a woman, not a child, not a girl, a woman.

Who in the blazes was this creature and what had she done with Lottie, the little girl with scabby knees and arms and legs like sticks? Where was that girl with freckles and an infectious laugh that made him laugh too, no matter how blue devilled he was?

“Cassius!” she cried, such delight in that one word it was as though he’d given her the most splendid gift imaginable. “Oh, how we’ve missed you! How wretched of you to have been gone for so very long, and you hardly ever wrote to us. What have you been doing all this time? Have you had all the adventures you’d hoped for? Are you a marvellous artist now? Are you the talk of France? Did you go to Paris and have lots of scandalous love affairs?”

“Lottie,” her father protested. “Calm yourself, child. Put the poor man down and don’t be so impertinent, you wretched creature. You might remember you are a young lady. However is the poor man to answer a single question if you keep adding another before he can draw a breath?”

“Sorry,” Lottie said, chastened, colour flushing her cheeks.

To his regret, she unwound her arms from his neck and took a step back. He hated the look of mortification in her eyes and wanted to take it away, but she carried on, quieter now.

“I’m so sorry, Cassius. I did not mean to embarrass you. I got carried away. Only it’s so wonderful to have you home again.”

Cassius stared at her. His heart was thudding too hard behind his ribs and he felt giddy and disorientated, as if he’d been hit with a brick. The world had changed around him. This new version of it looked the same but was not the same at all, and neither was he.

“That’s all right,” Cassius said, finding his tongue at last, which appeared to have been temporarily nailed down. Good God, what had happened in the time he’d been away? Was this… this goddess truly Lottie, the girl he’d known all his life, the girl he’d helped teach to ride and laughed with and pulled out of more muddy puddles than he could count? When had she transformed from the gawky, awkward little scrap of mischief he’d known into… into….

His heart gave a definitive and uncomfortable thud behind his ribs, and Cassius knew without a doubt that he was in a world of trouble.

Nicolas Alexandre Demarteau leaned against the wall, regarding his half-brother, Louis César de Montluc, the Comte de Villen, with amusement.

“Arrêtez,” Louis said, catching his eye in the mirror.