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To Cassie’s surprise, he seeme

d to stiffen at her joking inquiry. “Naught of anything, really,” he said finally. “There were people I had to see. I am still a soldier, Cass.”

“I did not intend an inquisition, Edward,” she said, sipping at her coffee.

“Of course you did not. Are you feeling all right, Cass?”

“Indeed, I am the picture of good health.” She giggled suddenly and pressed her napkin over her lips.

He arched an inquiring brow.

“I was just thinking about your mother. I think she would be more inclined to approve of me if I displayed enough sensibility to lounge the hours away with a vinaigrette in my hand.”

He smiled faintly. “Illness is one of her few joys, I fear. She thinks me a most undutiful son for giving the army much more attention than her. I understand from her letters that my agent, Mr. Prudeck, has shown himself to be a boorish oaf who refuses to show proper deference for her fragile nerves. I must remember to give the fellow a raise in his salary.”

Cassie thought about meeting Lady Delford with her belly swelled with child. It was on the tip of her tongue to inquire whether Edward had yet written to his fond parent when she noticed that he was staring beyond her at nothing in particular. Instead, she asked, “What plans have you for the afternoon, Edward?”

“The afternoon?” He pressed the napkin against his lips. “I must leave you again, Cass, but not for long. Major Andre and I are meeting with some other officers, and General Howe, about the spring offensives.”

“Perhaps when you return we could go riding. I should like that very much.”

“But you are pregnant.”

He was clearly aghast at such a suggestion, and Cassie hastened to reassure him. “I am not sick, Edward, merely indisposed some mornings. I promise not to beg you for a race.”

He rose and fastened on his sword before he answered her, a frown drawing his brows together. “We shall see. It will probably rain, you know.”

Cassie sighed, knowing a put-off when she heard it.

“Edward?”

“Yes, Cass?”

She rose from her chair and walked over to him. “I—that is, if you would rather that we did not wed—”

He interrupted her harshly. “Of course I wish us to wed. No more silliness from you now, my girl.” He patted her cheek gently. “Rest while I am gone.”

“Yes, I shall.”

Cassie looked about the small sitting room after Edward had left, feeling almost as closed in as she had on The York. Rain pattered against the windows, and all fond thoughts of riding were dashed.

She picked up a pamphlet that lay on the table. It was the infamous Common Sense that Mr. Beatty had raved about, and she shook her head, bemused. She thought the high-flown phrases rather ridiculous. She raised her eyes at the sound of a light tap on the door.

She rose slowly to her feet, wondering if it was Mrs. Beatty, come to take the luncheon dishes away.

“Come in.”

Cassie was surprised to see Jennifer Lacy, the young woman she and Edward met the day before.

“May I speak to you, Miss Brougham?”

“Certainly, Miss Lacy, do come in.”

“You remember my name.”

“Yes, it is a talent of mine.”

Cassie motioned Miss Lacy to a chair and seated herself opposite upon the settee.

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