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Cassie shrugged. “He’s an exciting man.”
“He’s a scoundrel.”
“Perhaps that’s why he’s exciting. You’re woman enough to keep him in line.”
Cassie couldn’t know how her every word stabbed Antonia like a knife. But then her cousin had no idea quite how foolish her chaperone had been. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a dowdy spinster past courting age.”
This time Cassie laughed. “Now who’s being ridiculous? You’re beautiful. And you’ve paid for your indiscretion.” Cassie cast her a surprisingly adult look. “He called you his love.”
Blast Ranelaw and his indiscreet tongue. Antonia knew she blushed. She hoped Cassie interpreted it as a sign of outrage not embarrassment. “He calls every woman his love.”
“He’s never said it to me.”
Antonia clicked her tongue to the horses to make them walk on. “He was just awaiting his chance.”
Cassie’s voice lowered. “Antonia, I know you don’t want to tell me everything. There’s no reason you should. And I’m sorry Lord Ranelaw turned out a disappointment.”
A disappointment. Caustic humor leavened Antonia’s pain without providing the slightest relief. Yes, that was one way to describe this stabbing agony, she supposed. Her heart wanted to stop after every beat. She felt like she entered an endless, dark tunnel. Her future held no light. Ranelaw’s wickedness doused all rad
iance.
Evening closed in by the time Antonia drove into the mews behind the Demarest house. She dispatched a groom after Thomas and Bella and arranged for a footman to return Ranelaw’s gig. She felt a momentary urge to set fire to the expensive little carriage but she restrained herself. A spiteful, vengeful Valkyrie squirmed in her breast, but she refused to give expression to the screaming virago.
Eventually Cassie had forced her to listen to what Ranelaw had told her about his sister. Her cousin poured out her anger and confusion about her father’s misdeeds that long-ago summer.
Antonia desperately wanted to disbelieve what Cassie said. Godfrey Demarest, after all, had come to her rescue at the absolute nadir of her fortunes and had sheltered her since.
But the problem was she knew him well enough to picture him behaving just as Ranelaw had described. He was a careless man, inclined to pursue his passions without forethought. And he was always more than happy if someone else mopped up any unpleasant consequences. She hadn’t managed his estate for ten years without discovering his faults in fairly short order.
He was capable of great kindness if it didn’t cost him anything in time or effort. But he was also capable of weaseling out of responsibility and leaving others to cope with the ill effects. Nor had she ever deceived herself that he was anything but a man who relentlessly pursued sexual conquest. His frequent absences from Somerset sent him hying for the fleshpots. He made a cursory attempt to hide his penchant for debauchery from his daughter, but even Cassie was aware that when her father was away, he led a life of hedonistic indulgence.
He’d seduced Eloise twenty years ago. If Godfrey Demarest was prodigally irresponsible in middle age after marrying and siring a child, he must have been wild beyond belief in his youth.
Sadly, however much Antonia didn’t want to accept Demarest was guilty of seducing Eloise Challoner and abandoning her to suffer the results, something in her immediately acknowledged the truth that spurred Ranelaw to revenge.
Antonia’s heart went out to Eloise’s sufferings. How could it not, especially as she too had fallen victim to a young man’s lies? But as she’d said on that dusty road to Hampshire, Godfrey Demarest’s wickedness provided no excuse for Ranelaw to kidnap Cassie.
That she could never forgive. Just as she couldn’t forgive Ranelaw for making a commitment to her—in actions rather than words, perhaps, but nonetheless a commitment—then betraying her.
He was dead to her.
Or he would be once she muted her endless ache for him.
What if there’s a child?
She quashed the sly, whispering question. A month of Johnny’s lovemaking and she hadn’t conceived. A night in Lord Ranelaw’s arms couldn’t plant a baby in her womb. She refused to countenance the possibility.
They entered the house through the garden. “I’m engaged with the Bridesons for the opera.” Cassie sounded unenthusiastic as they walked side by side up the dim hallway toward the main staircase.
Hardly surprising the girl flagged. Antonia felt like locking herself in her room and never coming out. And she hadn’t been in serious danger, whereas Cassie had held her nerve through a kidnapping.
“I’ll send a note saying you’re indisposed. I’ll also send a note to Mrs. Merriweather saying that the family emergency was a storm in a teacup. She must wonder what crisis stole you away from the party without speaking to her first.”
Cassie cast her a grateful glance. “I’d forgotten the Merriweathers.”
“We’re going to bring you through this without a whisper of scandal.” Antonia noted how her cousin’s shoulders slumped and weariness weighted her usual light step. “Why not have supper in your room? Then an early night.”
Cassie nodded and answered in a lifeless voice. “Thank you. I will.”
