A False Proposal (11 page)

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Authors: Pam Mingle

Tags: #False Engagement, #House of Commons, #Parliamentary election, #historical romance, #Regency, #Crimean War, #fake engagement, #Entangled Select Historical, #On the shelf

BOOK: A False Proposal
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“If we’d been caught…” Cass said.

“There would have been hell to pay,” Adam finished for her. “Your brother would have forced me to marry you.”

Bloody hell
. That was an insensitive thing to say. He’d blundered badly and he’d pay for it. How could he have gotten so carried away after vowing to keep his distance from her? He’d risked her reputation and no doubt hurt her with such a callous remark.

This wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen again. He couldn’t marry Cass, or any other woman. So what the hell did he think he was doing?


Cass was glad it was dark enough that Adam couldn’t see her face clearly. Not well enough to detect the hurt she knew must be reflected in her eyes. He sounded as if marriage to her would be the worst thing ever to befall a man. It was the way he’d said it, the emphasis he’d placed on certain key words.
Forced
me to
marry
you.

But not for the world did she want him to know how she felt. “What a disaster that would be!” she said, faking a laugh that came out squeaky and high pitched. Suddenly, Cass shivered. In those few words Adam had spoken, her aloneness was defined. Stars spilled into the night sky, their brilliance seeming to mock her sudden despair.
Oh, Adam, why
couldn’t
we be happy together?

Jack had Jenny. Adam had his pick of the myriad eligible young ladies and widows, like Eleanor Broxton and Leonora, who continually sought him out. With Cass he was merely dallying, because he knew her and assumed she would jump at the chance for some attention from him. It was a safe assumption. She’d practically thrown herself at him before, and flinging all caution to the wind, had done so again.

And whom did she have? Cousin Louisa
.
Yes, her cousin would always be there. They would provide companionship for one another as each grew old. In fact, since Louisa was so much older than Cass, she pictured herself nursing the woman through bouts of illness and infirmity—
Stop this right now, Cassandra Helen Linford. You’re being mawkish.
Oh, why had she been so determined to attend this gathering? She had been happier, or at least more at peace, living in the country by herself. She hadn’t really recovered from Bentley’s death and the blame she’d heaped upon herself for his suicide. Perhaps she never would.

Her hair. She must see to it. Cass did what she could without a mirror, in the dark. She felt Adam’s eyes on her, but refused to look at him. She’d meant to steal some time for herself, and instead she’d allowed Adam, who didn’t even seem to care about her, to…to take liberties with her person. She was furious with herself for her lack of self-control. For letting her guard down.

Without even glancing at Adam, she said, “I’m going in.”

He reached for her. “Wait! It’s too soon.”

But she did not turn around. Let him stew. What did it matter if somebody saw her? She would hardly be compromised if she were caught strolling by herself. When she reached the house, she entered through the front door and made her way to her chamber. Agnes helped her undress, and she slipped into bed. Before extinguishing the candle on the night table, Cass vowed to give Adam a wide berth for the rest of the week.

Chapter Twelve

Cass was standing before Adam wearing only her chemise. He ripped it off of her, top to bottom, so that she was completely naked. Then his wicked fingers began to massage her breasts. She gasped with pleasure, feeling heated and damp at her center. One thought rang in her ears.
Kiss me.
Kiss me.
But she couldn’t quite see him, not the real man. Only some faceless figure she sensed was Adam. She waited, breathless, for his caress.

“Morning, ma’am.”

Who was intruding? Barging into her room while she and Adam were…Oh, no. She’d been dreaming, a most pleasurable dream from which she’d rather not have awakened. Agnes bustled toward the windows and began opening drapes. “Would you like breakfast in your chamber? Or I can help you bathe and dress, if you’d rather take your meal with the other guests.”

“What?” Cass said, voice trembling, still lost in the dream.

“Sorry, ma’am. I’ll come back in a bit.”

Cass pulled herself up. “No, no, Agnes, it’s all right. I wasn’t quite awake when you entered. I shall eat in my room,” she said. “Tea and toast, please.” At least that would give her time to compose herself.

Furious with Adam after what had transpired last night, Cass couldn’t believe she’d dreamed of him so vividly, and in such an alarmingly erotic way. She realized he had disturbed her dreams more than once, she’d jerk awake, hot and sweaty, and, she was ashamed to admit, aroused. It was best to break her fast in her chamber. That way she could avoid seeing him for the present.

When Cass did venture downstairs, she noticed that Adam wasn’t with the others in the main drawing room. For a man who was hosting a house party, he seemed to be extraordinarily unconcerned about his guests, who were discussing an afternoon jaunt. Indifferent to the plans, Cass opened a Fanny Burney novel, but was unable to concentrate. Eventually, the other ladies began penning letters, embroidering, or reading; the men departed to play billiards or cards until it was time for their planned outing. Cass hadn’t seen Jack either, and when Jenny sat down next to her, she asked where he was.

“He’s with Adam, I think. In the library.”

Cass drew back, surprised. “Is he? Whatever could they be discussing for so long?”

“Can’t you guess?”

Cass laughed. “Of course. The election. I should have known.”


Adam sat behind his desk fiddling with a quill, shaping the nib with a penknife, while he and Jack talked, rather randomly, about his election to Commons. Jack had pulled down a volume of maps and was examining one page, running his finger around coastlines and borders, pausing every so often to give a location a decisive tap. Adam knew he and Jenny were taking a wedding trip to Italy.

“I assume you sent the letter about me to Sir William?” Adam asked.

His friend looked up and smiled. “Of course. I assured him of your many unparalleled qualities, reminded him of your roots here in Surrey, and let him know that you had my support.”

“And?”

Jack had picked up a magnifying glass and was bent over, studying, from what Adam could see, the Amalfi Coast. “Got a polite note back saying he’d consider you and requesting the honor of your esteemed self at his home.” He dropped the glass and looked up. “You’d better arrange it.”

“Of course. I’ll ride over sometime in the next few days.” He threw down the penknife and scowled. His father’s dealings with Sir William would complicate everything. Adam had been operating under the false assumption that the two men were old friends. Now he knew they were anything but. And when he paid his call, would Broxton mention his demand that Adam court his daughter? Even if he hinted at it, it would be damned uncomfortable. Maybe he should be the one to mention it, get it out of the way, but there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t amount to falsehoods.
Damnation
.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “Is there some difficulty in talking with the man?”

Adam sighed. He supposed he’d better come clean to Jack. And that included everything, even the false betrothal to Cass. “When we met at White’s, I mentioned my father wanted to see me.”

When Jack didn’t say anything, Adam went on. “The news wasn’t good. He owes Broxton thousands of pounds in gambling debts.”

“Christ almighty.”

“There’s more.”

Jack’s brow shot up. “Go on.”

“Sir William wants me to marry his daughter, Eleanor. The one who’s here at the house party. If I agree, he’ll forgive my father’s debts, and the old man can start putting money back into the estate, which desperately needs it. You’d be shocked to see how ramshackle it looks, Jack.”

“I am sorry to hear it.”

Adam took a deep breath and said, “I told him I was engaged to Cass.”

When Adam’s comment registered, Jack leaped to his feet. “The hell you say.”

Adam put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Just hear me out. I knew I had to have a rock solid reason why I couldn’t marry Broxton’s daughter. Being engaged to someone else seemed unassailable, and Cass sprang to mind.” She sprang to mind a great deal lately. And that wasn’t all that sprang. Visions of what had happened in the conservatory the night before…but he shouldn’t be thinking of that. At all.

Jack began pacing. “There wasn’t a single other woman in that bacon-brained head of yours? You had to choose my sister, who has already suffered through one disastrous betrothal? Bloody hell, Adam. What were you thinking?”

“That’s what is at issue, isn’t it? I didn’t have time to think.”

“How did you leave it?”

“I agreed to invite Eleanor to the party, but said under no circumstances would I consider breaking my engagement.” His friend was watching him closely, and he had a look on his face Adam didn’t trust.

“I say, old man,” Jack began. Adam had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“Have you never thought about marrying my sister? She’s a damn sight too good for you, but you two used to be so close. I’ve always suspected she harbored a secret
tendre
for you.”

Adam’s mouth went dry. His throat seemed coated in ashes. “Beg pardon, but what did you just say?”

“You heard me. Why not offer for Cass? Make it real instead of a sham. She’s a wonderful girl, and would be an excellent mother. Because of what happened with Bentley, she’s a bit reserved, but she could be coaxed out of that, given time. And affection, naturally.” He hesitated before going on. “You do have affection for her, do you not?”

Jack deserved to know his feelings regarding marriage. He had the feeling that after last night, Cass already did. “Of course I do. I’m fond of Cass. Always have been. But marriage is out of the question for me.”

Jack lifted a brow. “But why? Given your political aspirations, I rather thought you’d be seriously considering taking a wife. Someone who would make a proper hostess for all those dinners and soirees you are going to have to put on once you’re an MP.”

Adam avoided a direct answer. “I’m looking for a wealthy widow. Somebody like Leonora.” When Jack grimaced, Adam continued. “Not her, of course. But a woman experienced with planning dinner parties and balls, and one who would be content with…something less than marriage.”

“What if that plan doesn’t work out?”

“I may convince Deborah to take on the role.”

A corner of Jack’s mouth ticked up and he eyed his friend skeptically. “Opposed to love, are you?” he asked. “Just on principle, or has something happened to put you off?” His sarcasm stung, as Adam knew he’d intended it to.

For the first time, Adam felt his temper rise. He fought against it. “Not at all, for most men. Just not for me.” The circumstances of his parents’ marriage were not known to anyone, even Jack, and Adam wasn’t about to explain. Naturally his friend, probably half the
ton,
if he were honest with himself, knew his mother and father lived apart, and that Adam and his father were estranged, but that was the extent of their knowledge. Nor did he wish to discuss his certainty of becoming, as he grew older, like his father. The less said the better, about any of it, in Adam’s opinion.

The rumors and innuendo had always been out there, though. Maybe Jack knew more than Adam believed, and he was goading his friend to make a clean breast of it. But Adam refused to rise to the bait.

“By God, you’re a hard headed bastard,” Jack said. He muttered something under his breath and lowered himself into a chair. “So what do you expect me to do?”

Adam hesitated. A plan had been forming all along; he simply hadn’t wanted to come out with it. He’d need Jack’s help to put it into operation. “What if I asked Cass to pretend we’re betrothed? Just until after the election. Then, after a few months, she would cry off.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. What possible reason could she have for crying off? She, of all people.”

“Women cry off all the time. Nobody need know the reason.”

“You know the gossips, Adam. They’ll have no compunction about asking her why. Especially after what happened with Bentley.”

Adam waved an impatient hand at his friend. “We have plenty of time to come up with a believable reason, one that won’t reflect badly on Cass in any way.”

“Of course, this is presuming she’d go along with this scheme. I have a strong suspicion she would refuse.” He lowered his head into his hands. When he finally looked up at Adam, he said, “As well she should. This can only hurt her.”

Jack was right and Adam knew it. Feeling defeated, he kept his mouth shut. He would simply have to admit the lie to his father. It didn’t mean he’d have to marry the Broxton girl. He could show an interest in her—hell, he already had—and treat her with respect. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy Sir William. And the more he thought about it, using Cass to further his political ambitions seemed crass. Jack’s voice startled him out of his reverie, but it was his words that shocked.

“Ask her.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Explain the situation and ask her. If she has any sense, she’ll say no. But Cass has a mind of her own, and she’s quite interested in politics. It may be that I’ve got it all wrong and she
will
want to help you.”

“And I had just concluded it was a bad idea,” Adam said.

“I didn’t tell you, but she was miffed that we didn’t inform her of your plans to stand for election, that she only found out at the dinner when everybody else did. She likes to be included in political discourse. You heard her talking about the Perceval assassination—I’d wager she knew more about it than most men in attendance.”

Adam chuckled. “Probably more than most men in England. So you’re withdrawing your objections?”

“I don’t like it, and I hope she turns you down. But I agreed to support you. Put the idea to her and see what she says.”

Adam was no longer convinced that Cass wouldn’t be hurt, maybe irreparably. But she might see it otherwise, and desperation forced his hand. “Agreed. I’ll need you to be present when I ask her.”

Jack rose, a dark expression stealing across his face. “One stipulation, Grey. You must act the gentleman in all your dealings with my sister. Do you take my meaning?”

Adam stared, not certain he did.

“Come on man, you know what I’m talking about. If I see you, or hear of you, taking liberties with Cass, you can be sure I’ll call you out. Or I may not bother with that. I may just strangle you on the spot.”

Adam was speechless. If Jack knew about the liberties he’d already taken with Cass, he’d be a dead man. It was possible that Jack’s admonitions would give him the strength to keep his distance from her. Though being in the same house with her, seeing her every day would be torture if he agreed to this demand. Sadly, Adam couldn’t seem to control himself when she was near. He was weak, cowardly, and obviously ruled by his cock. What if his rampant desire for her was an indication he was turning into his father?

“Don’t just stand there with your mouth open. Do you understand? Your engagement will be a sham, so no stolen kisses, secret embraces, or touching of any kind.”

“Fine,” Adam bit out. “But people may think it a little strange if we’re not the least bit affectionate with each other.”

“They can go to the devil,” Jack said, glaring at Adam.

“You’re being unreasonable, but of course I’ll honor your conditions.” What choice was there? Adam offered his hand, and they shook on it.

Afterward, when Jack had left, Adam moved to stand by the window behind his desk. What on earth had he gotten himself into? How ironic, that he would be “betrothed” to Cass and instead of bringing them closer, it would drive them apart. He half hoped Cassie would turn him down, because that would be the end of it. He might be done for politically, but at least he wouldn’t have a guilty conscience. If he put her out of his mind, perhaps he could forget about his chilling fear that the older he grew, the more Benjamin Grey’s tendencies were taking root in him.

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