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She reached her hand and touched his cheek. Just for a second.
“The alternative is that we had relations without the sanctity of marriage. Are you prepared for that?”
Her face spasmed, pain lancing across her features. There was his answer. They had to get married regardless of the lie between them.
“The past has a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it?”
Pain tightened like a band around his chest. “It certainly does.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Where do we go from here?”
He traced the outside curve of her arm. “We marry. We give you security, me an heir. We make the best of our future.”
“Make the best?” She let out a sigh and then stepped back. “I wish you safe travels.”
Then she turned and fled the room, not looking back.
He stood watching the door for the longest time. Part of him wanted to call her back and kiss her senseless. But another voice told him to keep his distance, allow some safe space between his feelings and her heart.
He couldn’t afford to give his affection to the wrong woman again.
Chapter Twelve
Cassandra stared out the window of the sitting room as the sun shined bright in the afternoon sky. Three days had passed since Damian had left. She’d attempted to be a hostess of sorts to Raithe’s guests.
She’d taken them on tours of the property. Introduced Charlie to the staff. But with each hour that ticked by, Cassandra had grown increasingly fidgety.
What if he didn’t come back? Her breath hitched. What if he did but never forgave her? She’d heard his words but there had been a feeling missing between them. The heat had been gone…what if it didn’t return and she was trapped in another cold marriage?
Was that her fate? To marry but never quite capture her husband’s true affections?
She turned from the window, smoothing her skirts, her stomach churning. That was when she started. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard Charlie and Ophelia enter but they stood just behind her, matching looks of concern on their faces. “Oh. My apologies. I didn’t hear…”
Charlie reached for her hand. “You were lost in thought.” The other woman gave her a kind smile.
Ophelia nodded. “We understand. Both of us struggled to…” She placed a finger on her chin, looking up at the ceiling.
Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Struggled to tame our rather errant rakes.”
Ophelia laughed and some of the tension in Cassandra eased. Their words made her feel as though she had allies. Other than Raithe, she’d been adrift and alone these past few years. “You struggled with Raithe?”
Charlie gave her a soft smile. “He was determined to remain unattached after his past, and of course, he was worried about you too.”
She looked down at the floor, wincing. “I never wanted to be a burden to Raithe.”
“You’re not.” Charlie squeezed her hand. “If anything, what you did for your first husband makes you a hero.”
She shook her head. “It only looks that way from the outside.”
Ophelia reached for her other hand, drawing her toward the door. “All heroes say that. Even in the great stories. They were doing what was necessary,” she said. “They didn’t have choices. They had to make sacrifices. That doesn’t mean they were any less heroic.”
“Ophelia loves literature,” Charlie added as they continued pulling her out the door and down the hall. “Shakespeare in particular.”
“Where are we going?” Cassandra asked as they started down the stairs.
“For a walk,” Ophelia answered. “Fresh air always clears the head and exercise soothes the nerves.”
Charlie wrapped an arm about her waist. “And talking will provide some clarity.”
