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He raised his head at her soft, sad words and saw tears swimming in her eyes. He drew a deep breath. Damn. He felt the perfect bounder. After all that had happened to her, he had done little else than force her himself. But she had accepted him, she had stroked him and wrapped her legs about his hips to open herself more fully to receive him. The earl’s darkly handsome face rose in his mind’s eye and Edward saw him rearing over her, parting her thighs, burying himself in her woman’s body. He shook himself, blotting the image from his mind.
“It is I who am sorry, Cassie. Next time it will be better, you will see.”
But I don’t want there to be a next time.
“It will be, Edward,” she whispered. He pulled himself out of her and stretched his full length beside her.
He tried to think of comforting words to say, but somehow the violent emotion he had felt and his guilt at what he had done emptied his mind. Both of them needed time. He said only, “It’s been a long day, Cass. You need sleep now.”
She settled her cheek against his shoulder. Sleep eluded her for some time, even after Edward’s breathing evened. What was wrong with her? Though she did not wish to, she remembered how passion leaped in her when the earl but touched her. And once, long ago, she had desired Edward. What had changed? Perhaps Edward was right. Perhaps it was her own tension, perhaps it was his newness to her, and hers to him. But her body tensed in protest at her thoughts. She sighed and forced all thought from her mind.
* * *
Cassie stared down at the fluffy scrambled eggs and felt her stomach tighten.
“Will there be anything else you require, my lady?”
“No, Mrs. Beatty. The breakfast is fine, thank you.”
“I’ll send Will up later for the dishes, my lady.”
Cassie nodded and watched Mrs. Beatty dip her a credible curtsy.
“Captain Lord Delford sounds mighty happy that you’ve joined him.”
“It would seem so.” The sound of Edward’s whistling came loudly through the closed bedchamber door.
After Mrs. Beatty had left, Cassie pushed away the heaping plate of food and sipped at her coffee. She knew that she must tell him now. She would have told him last night, but somehow the words simply would not say themselves. So much had happened and so much was new to both of them. She cursed herself for a coward.
If she thought that Edward would not notice her lack of appetite, she was mistaken.
“If I am to give you a tour of New York, Cass, you must eat something.”
“I have boundless energy, Edward, you know that. It is just that I am not particularly hungry this morning.”
“I don’t want a skinny wife, Cass.”
She felt herself flush under his warm scrutiny.
Edward was very careful where he guided Cassie. There were areas of New York that were unsavory, others that reeked of human misery, no less than parts of London. The day was cooler than Edward had expected, and there was a light breeze blowing from the bay past the upper end of Broad Street.
“What an odd jumble of buildings.”
“Yes, a mixture of old and new. The fire was strangely fickle. See the gabled house there on your left? It was built in 1698 by a Dutchman and is now occupied by James Bryson and Moses Smith. The spire to the left of the old Federal Hall is St. Paul’s Chapel, on Broadway. We’ll walk down Wall Street, and I’ll show you what’s left of Trinity Church. Unfortunately, the wooden spire burned in the fire and collapsed into the interior.”
They reached the foot of Broadway and Edward directed her to Bowling Green. “And there, Cass, was where a statue of George III used to stand. The rebels pulled it down and melted it for bullets and guns.”
“But everyone seems sympathetic to England, Edward. Where are all the rebels?”
“The rebels are in the minority. Here in New York, they were a vocal, vicious bunch. Before General Howe took New York, a group that called themselves the Liberty Boys were responsible for much destruction, particularly of Tory homes and businesses. Many families loyal to England fled New York, and returned when we took the city. This rebellion is nothing more than a series of ragtag skirmishes scattered about this huge land.” Edward shrugged. “What will come of this is anybody’s guess.”
Cassie looked thoughtful for a moment. “As you said, Edward, this is a vast land. How can England, thousands of miles away, hope to control its destiny?”
“You are beginning to sound like Jen—, like Tory friends of mine.” He looked awkwardly away.
“Sometimes I think,” Cassie continued, gazing at him intently, “that everyone should simply leave everyone else alone. War seems such a waste.”
“True. But if what you suggested should happen, what would become of all the loyalists? I assure you that their fate would not be enviable.”
