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“As you wish,” he said. “Now I have work to do. Lots and lots of work.”
* * *
When Joshua learnedfrom Newell that Cassandra was staying in that night, he joined them at dinner for the first time. Isaac entertained them all with tales of re-learning to ride, Lucy entertained them with tales of shopping with the duchess, and Emily told tales of the theater. Cassandra said little, sitting at the other end of the table from him, with a gentle smile that slipped when their eyes met.
After dinner, he went back to work, ignoring the look Cassandra gave him. But their music and laughter invaded his study, cheerfully disrupting his peace. That must be what it was like at Warwickshire. What was the place called?
Sunne Park. Stupid name.
Long after their noise had stopped, he went to his bedchamber and undressed. He pulled on his dressing gown, under the baleful glare of Cassandra’s cat. The cat had taken to sleeping in his bed, as he had taken to sleeping with Cassandra. And now he would do it again: Go through that door to where she awaited him, hold her, love her, forget himself in her, until his whole world narrowed down to her and the way they made each other feel.
He did it because he wanted to be with her. She did it because she wanted children. And once she had what she wanted, she would leave.
He tumbled onto the settee, not moving even when Cassandra rapped on the door and came in, wearing her stupid bed jacket with its ugly bow.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Just thinking.”
“I do that. Staring at the fire, thinking. I’ve learned it does not help at all.”
He grunted. She waited.
“Shall I leave you?” she finally asked.
“No.”
By the time he thought to retract the word, she was already seated at his side.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” she said. “You’ve been quiet all evening.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you coming to bed?”
“I might…”
He waved a hand at his own bed. Her smile faltered.
“You’re tired of me?”
“No. No. I just…”
He just wanted to spite her, petty, selfish bastard that he was. No reason to be confused. It was all very simple: They were enjoying each other for now, and then they would go back to their normal lives. Him amid the noise and industry of Birmingham; her amid the noise and warmth of family.
She tucked her feet up under her, pressed against him, and curled her fingers in his hair. He had become too used to her.
“I forgot to thank you earlier,” she said. “For intervening with the duchess. Although she is unhappy about it.”
“Treyford is unhappy with your intervention too. He still wants nothing to do with us. All your amiability cannot fix that. He will never change, and he thinks you are annoying.”
“I don’t much care what Lord Treyford thinks, to be honest.”
“Mrs. DeWitt! I am shocked!”
She eyed him defiantly. “You were right and I was wrong. I am disgusted at the way he and Lady Treyford have not said a word in your defense. You are a hundred thousand times better than he is, and he can claim no credit for that at all.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “I say, Mrs. DeWitt. I think you might be starting to like me.”
