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Damian smacked his hand on the table next to him. “My temperament is of less concern than your lies.”
Raithe shrugged and Cassandra hugged herself around her chest. Raithe’s eyes flicked to her before they returned to the duke. “What is of the greatest concern to me is the contract you signed.”
Damian made a growling sound deep in his throat and the noise spurred her into action. She crossed the room, standing between the two of them. “Raithe,” she said, holding up a hand for him to stop before she turned to Damian. She drew in a steadying breath. “You know I did what I did last night on the faith that we’d be wed.” If he broke his word, she’d be ruined forever. There would be no sum of money, no contract that awarded her a house. She’d have lost her morality and her future.
He said nothing as his arms crossed, his chin pulling back. She dropped her head, looked at the floor, no longer able to meet his eye. “But even more than I’ll hate myself for the shame, I can’t stand the idea of another husband who looks at me with resentment in his eyes. And it shines in your eyes now. We’ll burn the contract if that’s what you want to do.”
She’d not have another marriage like that again.
* * *
Those words made the air rush from Damian’s chest and with it, much of the resentment. Yes, he’d been lied to and manipulated, two things he couldn’t abide. But he also recognized several truths about Cassandra. And himself. He’d likely come on very strong and she was a woman without protection.
And she’d offered him an out. No yelling, no anger. Only worry clouded her beautiful face. Though he hated that she’d lied, and he was angry still, it didn’t change the fact that he wanted her or that she suited him in many ways.
Perhaps this deception was for the best. Help him to separate his feelings from their arrangement. He’d go into this like any other bargain and he’d leave that pesky tenderness behind.
“Are you mending your dress?” Raithe asked as he looked over her shoulder.
Color filled her cheeks. “It needed repair.”
Damian swore softly under his breath. He’d likely done the damage himself. “Stop sewing, please.”
Her gaze snapped up to his, confusion in her eyes. “Why?”
“A husband buys his wife all the gowns she needs.” He gently pulled the fabric from her fingers.
Confusion clouded her eyes as she stared at him. “But—”
“We’ll marry still,” he said as he turned away. Even now, he felt a pull toward her that he steeled himself against. He’d have to take some time to order his thoughts. She’d make a good wife, an excellent lover. But he’d not allow himself to care beyond that. “I’ll have to acquire a special license, which means I need to return to London. Your job is to acquire a proper wardrobe while I’m gone.”
Her eyes crinkled. “You’re leaving? When?’
“Today,” he answered, looking away. “I’ll need nearly a week to complete the journey and return with the license.”
She shifted, her hands clasping. “I could come with you.”
Under different circumstances, he’d love the idea. But he needed time without her distracting him. The opportunity to get his emotions in hand, order their future in a way he could keep from getting hurt. “I’ll be back soon enough.”
“I’ll go with him,” Raithe said. “Company always makes a journey faster.”
“I don’t need a nanny, Balstead.” He straightened, giving the other man a long stare.
Raithe shrugged then looked at Cassandra. “Keep my fiancée company while I am gone.”
Damian debated protesting further but if he were in Balstead’s position, he’d likely do the same.
“You’re engaged?” Cassandra spun back, throwing her arms about Raithe’s neck. “That is the most wonderful news.”
Jealousy, hot and sharp stabbed through him as he watched them hug. He definitely needed time.
“Thank you. You’ll love Charlotte. Charlie, everyone calls her. She’s no wilting flower.”
“I can hardly wait.” She stepped back again, her fingers grasping Balstead’s squeezing his hands.
His own insides tightened. He had to get his emotions back under control.
Chapter Eleven
