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Cassie turned, her chin at an angle that Antonia recognized. Cassie rarely dug her heels in, but when she did, she was as stubborn as her father. “If I’d told you Lord Ranelaw came to Surrey, you’d have found some excuse to stay in London.”
“At least you admit the scheme.”
Cassie had the grace to look shamefaced. “It wasn’t a scheme.”
Antonia arched a skeptical eyebrow. “No?”
Cassie fiddled with the pink ribbon at her bodice. “Lord Ranelaw asked if I attended the Scanlan ball. I told him we left Town for two weeks. It’s not my fault he followed us.”
Us? Oh, no. Not us. The disreputable Ranelaw pursued her charge, and if Antonia wasn’t careful, he’d get her. “Cassie, he’s handsome, he’s charming, his attentions would turn any lady’s head. Even a lady as sensible as you.”
Cassie still looked mulish. “You’re treating me like a child.”
Antonia shook her head. “No. But I more than most know what you risk.”
“His intentions are honorable.”
Antonia’s heart sank. She told herself it was because she hadn’t realized things reached such a pass. Honesty compelled her to admit some of her dismay stemmed from wanting Lord Ranelaw herself, for all the good it did her. “Has he said so?”
The girl shrugged and began to brush her hair with the heavy silver hairbrush her father had given her for her twelfth birthday. Cassie was good-hearted and far from stupid, but Antonia couldn’t forget she was also impossibly spoiled. If this became an issue of her will versus Cassie’s, trouble loomed. For years, she’d been Cassie’s confidante and companion. Most of that time, the task had been ridiculously easy.
Clearly Antonia made up for that now.
“Cassie?” When the girl didn’t answer, she deliberately kept her voice level. “Has Lord Ranelaw mentioned marriage?”
During the fraught pause, her mind flooded with mad, passionate memories of Ranelaw kissing her. Once she’d been green enough to believe a man who kissed a woman so desperately could have no interest in other conquests.
Eventually Cassie reluctantly shook her head. “No, it’s too early.” She continued in a strident tone as if convincing herself as much as Antonia. “He’s behaving as a respectable man does when courting a woman. If his intentions aren’t aboveboard, he wouldn’t be so public.”
“Cassie, he’s too old for you. He’s too experienced. Even if he plans marriage, I can’t see you happy with him. A man like that doesn’t know the meaning of fidelity.”
The girl tossed her head. “Don’t you think I’m woman enough to keep him in line?”
“Cassie . . .” Antonia paused, at a loss for words. The problem was she did mean that. She wasn’t sure anyone was woman enough to curb Ranelaw’s roving eye. She fell back on something she’d said before. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Her response angered rather than mollified Cassie. “Just because you lost your head over a pretty face doesn’t mean every other girl will.”
Antonia stiffened, wounded by Cassie’s sneering tone. Cassie had never been spiteful, but she’d noticed changes in the girl in London. Such general admiration would overset anyone. Until now, Antonia hadn’t realized how far the damage extended.
She told herself Cassie didn’t mean to be hurtful. But as she read the angry defiance in the girl’s face, she couldn’t quite convince herself that was true.
“I know you think I’m overly careful, but . . .”
“I’m not a wide-eyed innocent,” she said resentfully then flounced away. “I know more than you think.”
Antonia felt a twinge of guilty fear. Was her charge aware of the prickly sexual awareness between her and Ranelaw?
Surely not. In public, Ranelaw was careful to conceal his interest in Antonia.
Dear God, save her from this nonsense. There was nothing to conceal. His interest wasn’t real.
“Cassie . . .” she began just as Bella bustled in. Again surely it was her guilty conscience and nothing concrete that Bella’s glance seemed sharper than usual.
“Are you ready to dress, miss?” The maid immediately picked up the troubled atmosphere, and her gaze darted between Antonia and Cassie with avid curiosity.
“Yes. I’ll wear the lavender silk.” Antonia heard relief in Cassie’s answer.
Antonia smothered a sigh. It was best she stopped. Any more and she risked their first serious quarrel. Over a rogue like Lord Ranelaw.
