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“Oh dear, Cassie,” her aunt cried, “your bonnet is heading for the water.”
Raven almost laughed. The ploy was hardly subtle. He wasn’t sure whether the lady wished to protect him from the duchess’s insults or to stop him from making a rash reply.
Lady Cassandra tried to rise from her chair. Raven put a hand over hers. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “I believe that’s my cue.” In a louder voice, he said, “Let me.” He rose and strode across the lawn. A fitful gust lifted the straw hat and sent it over the low lip of the sunken fountain into the water. He looked for a stick or a rake, something with which to snag the floating bonnet before it went under.
Lady Cassandra appeared beside him. She handed him a thin pole. “A stake from the foxgloves. I don’t expect you to sacrifice your boots for a very old bonnet.”
He took the pole and braced himself, leaning out over the water to catch the bonnet. Cold spray hit his face. He blinked, steadied his grip and slid the tip of the stake under the crown of the bonnet. With a quick tilt of the stake, he secured the hat and drew it to the fountain’s edge.
Lady Cassandra knelt and took hold of one of the drowned ribbons, pulling the hat from the water. She started to rise, but her leg buckled under her, pitching her forward. She gripped the stone edge of the fountain. Raven caught her elbow, and helped her to her feet.
“Thank you,” she said. “For saving my hat.”
“Was it necessary to risk it? Are you afraid your grandmother’s insults will drive me off?”
She raised a brow. The breeze molded her gown to her figure and whipped strands of dark hair across her cheeks. “Hardly, though you seem to have a knack for drawing her fire. I just prefer that no actual blood be shed.”
He laughed. “What do you advise then?”
She took a deep breath. “Tell her that she may revoke the lease at any time if you violate its terms.”
Raven sobered. It wasn’t a game he played. His plans depended upon securing Verwood, and he would not be driven off by a woman who insisted on the ancient privileges of her birth. “That would be most inconvenient.”
“She won’t do it. She won’t pay the least attention to the hall once … you’re in residence. She simply wants to … hold onto a certain sort of power in her world.”
If Lady Cassandra wanted him to sympathize with her domineering grandmother, she would be disappointed. “The power of rank? If I invite my grandfather to pollute the hall, will that violate her terms?”
“I hope you will invite him. The terms can be … managed. Try not to be stiff-necked about it.”
“You think I’m stiff-necked!” He glanced over at the dowager duchess.
She laughed, and her eyes brightened. “Exactly. And do try the sponge.”
He offered his arm, and this time she took it. They returned to the tea table. The duchess was standing. Honoria was stabbing a large piece of sponge with a tiny fork.
“What have you two been talking about?”
“Lady Cassandra has pointed out some terms that may make the lease more acceptable to you, ma’am.”
“Has she?” The duchess shot a sharp glance at her granddaughter. “Don’t imagine, young man, that I don’t know my way around a covenant. You will occupy Verwood by permission and under such terms as I approve.”
Raven’s jaw was tight, but the dowager’s pride wouldn’t matter next to Amabel’s delight. “I would not have it otherwise.”
“Very well. Have your man make the additions to the agreement.”
“Once Trimley has modified the covenant, and once you’ve had a chance to read it over and sign—”
The duchess waved away his words. “Just remember, young man, that Verwood will never make you a gentleman. And you must get Cassie’s approval for any renovations. I want that in the covenant.”
“Grandmama, are you sure?”
The duchess turned back. “Of course, I’m sure. I’ll be off now. You’ve kept me from my horses long enough.” She turned to Honoria. “And you have had quite enough cake, Honoria. Come with me.”
Honoria dropped her fork and rose to follow the duchess.
When the other two were out of earshot, Lady Cassandra turned to Raven. The breeze still tugged at her skirts and blew her dark hair about. “Satisfied?”
“Impatient.”
