A Lady of Secret Devotion (18 page)

“Not until I can be the one to see him taken away,” Mark said, surprising himself and Cassie by reaching out to sweep her into his arms. “Why don’t we give him something to talk about?”

His face was only inches from hers, and Cassie had to lift her chin to see into his eyes. He heard her breathing catch and was certain that she was enjoying his touch as much as he enjoyed holding her.

“What do you mean?”

“This,” Mark whispered and lowered his mouth to hers.

He hadn’t expected the feeling that jolted through him like a white-hot flash of lightning. Nor had he expected Cassie’s arms to go so eagerly around his neck. She was trembling from head to toe, but she leaned into the kiss with great abandonment.

In that moment, he thought of nothing but Cassie and how much he’d come to care about her. There was no haunting image of Ruth as he pulled away and gazed into Cassie’s eyes, nor was there any sense of regret as he had once imagined there might be.

There was only Cassie.

Mark’s kiss had left Cassie breathless and paralyzed with an emotion she could not even begin to understand. She had never been kissed by a man, but it was certainly all that she had hoped it might be. Her own reaction, however, shamed her greatly. She’d latched on to him like . . . well, she didn’t like to think of how wanton the act must surely have seemed.

“I . . . I’m . . . sorry.” She stepped back, noting that Sebastian was no longer watching from the French doors.

“Sorry?” Mark asked softly. “For what?”

“I . . . well, that is to say . . . I don’t . . . I mean I’ve never . . .” She shook her head. “Oh bother.” For once, she was unable to just speak her mind, which was probably to her advantage this time.

He laughed and looped his arm through hers and pulled her out of view from the house. When they stopped under the large white oak, Cassie sat down rather hard on the bench. She tried to gather her thoughts.

“Are you all right?” The concern in Mark’s tone made her feel guilty for some reason.

“I’m fine. I know it’s silly, but you see—” she drew a large breath—“I’ve never been kissed before. I always dreamed of the moment—of that first time.”

She forced herself to look up at Mark. She felt certain he would laugh and make light of the moment and their pretense, and she fought to steel her heart against breaking when he did so. Instead, he quickly sat beside her and shook his head.

“I didn’t know. I’m so very sorry. I never meant to take such a liberty. I just thought with Jameston watching it would be the easiest way to convince him of our feelings.”

Cassie knew that Mark had no understanding of her feelings whatsoever. “I told you it was silly. I’m fine, really. It just took me by surprise.”

“It isn’t fine. I do apologize. It was thoughtless.” He appeared agitated, even somewhat nervous.

Seeing him that way, Cassie wanted to crawl into a hole.

Why couldn’t I remain silent? What a fool he must think me. An immature old maid who goes all weak in the knees at the first touch of a man.

“It wasn’t thoughtless,” she said, getting to her feet. “We had a deal, and it was the right thing to do given that Mr.

Jameston was keeping us under such close scrutiny. But I really should go now. I’m sure Mrs. Jameston will have awakened from her nap.”

Mark jumped to his feet and took hold of her. “Cassie . . .

I . . . there’s something I should say.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine. Honestly. I was just startled, and perhaps . . . well . . . a bit ashamed for the way I acted. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he protested.

It’s just a part of our game,
Cassie told herself. She wanted nothing more than to stay there—to find her way into his arms once again, but she wanted it for real and not just because Sebastian Jameston might see them. “I must go.”

Hurrying toward the house, Cassie wanted to die a thousand deaths. Why couldn’t she have just kept quiet? Why did she have to act like an inexperienced schoolgirl?

“Because I
am
inexperienced,” she muttered. She fled through the French doors and hurried down the hall toward the stairs, only to find a human obstacle in her way.

“You give yourself quite freely to Mr. Langford. Should I suppose he has just proposed and you have accepted? Or are you just that kind of woman?” Sebastian sneered.

Cassie tried to get around him, but he moved to block her. “Would you please let me pass?” She looked up at him in anger. “I have no desire to explain myself to you. Not now or ever.”

“Ah, but when I am the lord of the manor, you will have to answer to me.”

“When you are lord of the manor, I will be gone. I am only here for your mother’s sake.”

“But couldn’t I entice you to stay even a short time with me? I assure you I can show you a far better time than poor Mr. Langford.” His eyes bore into her, leaving Cassie chilled to the bone despite the sweltering June heat.

“As I said, Mr. Jameston, I am only here to be a companion to your mother.”

“Then I shall have to find a way to persuade you to consider other pursuits. I happen to find you quite intriguing, and I have yet to be bested by a milksop like Langford when it comes to the pursuit of women.”

Now Cassie was angry. She put her hands to her hips and shook her head. “You have no right to speak with such disdain toward my suitor. Mr. Langford is a wonderful man who holds my heart completely. My love for him runs deeper than anything you could understand.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Cassie realized just how true they were. The declaration, however, seemed to stop any further aggression by Jameston. He narrowed his eyes at her, then leaned back against the stair rail to let her pass.

“Oh, then this is truly a matter of the heart and not just lust. I suppose I mustn’t stand in the way of true love,” he said in a snide tone.

Cassie hurried past him and ran the full length of the stairs to seek her consolation elsewhere. She felt a sense of relief when she reached her room and could lock the door behind her.

“Why can’t I learn to keep my mouth shut?” she called out.

“Cassie? Is that you?” Mrs. Jameston called from the adjoining room.

Cassie could see that the door was open and realized that Mrs. Jameston had probably heard every word she’d said.

“It’s me,” she replied. Squaring her shoulders, she moved across her bedroom to peek into Mrs. Jameston’s room. “Do you need me?”

The woman smiled from her bed. “Yes. I wonder if you might read to me. I’d like to hear something from the Psalms.

I know it would comfort me.”

Cassie nodded and picked up the Bible from Mrs. Jameston’s dresser. “It comforts me as well. I would be happy to read to you.”She took a seat beside Mrs. Jameston’s bed. For the last couple of weeks, she had kept vigil in this chintz-covered chair. The floral pattern had been traced and retraced as Cassie had prayed for the older woman’s recovery.

“You seem . . . deep in thought,” Mrs. Jameston said as Cassie thumbed through the pages of her Bible.

“I am,” Cassie said honestly. She looked up and smiled. “You have been much on my mind. I can hardly wait until you are fully recovered and able to take strolls in the garden or accompany me to church. I have missed our talks.”

Mrs. Jameston smiled and reached out her delicate hand. “I have missed them, as well, but I feel stronger every day. I am certain it won’t be long before we are able to resume our routine. Now, why don’t we start with Psalm 118. I find it such a wonderful chapter.”

Cassie nodded and carefully tucked her thoughts of Mark away for safekeeping. There would be time enough to sort through her heart and the effect he had on her.

CHAPTER 15

E
ven several days later, Mark still kicked himself for having kissed Cassie. The scent of her hair and the softness of her lips were still very much on his mind, as well as the realization that he had crossed a line he’d never intended to cross.

He tried to convince himself that the moment had been necessary for their ruse, but in truth he knew better. He could have simply embraced her. He could have lovingly touched her face, all while speaking to her about how that should convince Jameston that they were madly in love. But her lips . . . her eyes . . . they had driven him to that kiss.

He stared out on the street below and relived the moment. Since losing Ruth, he’d found little interest in other women. It wasn’t that he mourned her so much now seven years gone; it was more that he couldn’t find her equal. Ruth had been compassionate and gentle, yet she had the ability to stand up to him—to help him see reason when he wanted to jump into a bad situation. Most of the women he’d gotten to know since his wife’s death were shallow or overly controlling. There seemed no middle of the road. Until Cassie.

But being with Cassie was supposed to be nothing more than a game of pretense in order to capture Jameston. Cassie had agreed to the ordeal because she loved Mrs. Jameston— not because she wanted Mark to court her. Now things were seriously complicated, and he wasn’t at all sure what to do about it.

“I’ve made a real mess of this,” he said, shaking his head.

Despite his mother’s advice to win Cassie’s affections, Mark thought perhaps his feelings had been nothing more than a fluke—a sort of response to being without feminine company for so long. But when he returned from Boston and first saw her again, Mark knew there was far more to this than he could have ever imagined.

“I wanted to kiss her,” he admitted to himself. “I wanted to kiss her from the first moment of my return.”

He dropped his hold on the curtain and walked away from the window. For the last few hours he had been trying to figure out his next move, and staring out on the busy street had done nothing to lend him direction.

“And she wanted me to kiss her,” he muttered as he sat down at a small desk Westmoreland had arranged for him.

“But did she want me to kiss her for the sake of Jameston—or because of something more? She’s played the game well, but is she really that great of an actress? Or could she have feelings for me as well?”

In his heart, he felt certain she’d enjoyed the kiss. Still, she’d been shocked by it. She’d never been kissed before, and her reaction could have been nothing more than surprise.

Mark ran his hands through his hair, almost hoping he could actually push the matter from his mind. “I can’t focus on Jameston if I’m thinking about her and that . . . ridiculous . . . foolish . . . wonderful kiss.” He sighed and gathered his things. He needed air. He would take Portland and give him a good stretch of the legs. It might do them both a world of good.

“You are looking much better,” Cassie told Mrs. Jameston as they sat together in the parlor. It was the first day in weeks that Mrs. Jameston had been able to come downstairs.

“I feel much improved, although I find my limbs quite weak,” the older woman replied. “In time, I’m sure to regain my strength.”

“That would be wonderful, but the doctor did fear that your heart was damaged.”

Mrs. Jameston waved her lace handkerchief as if shooing away unwanted flies. “I’m certain the doctor was wrong about damage to my heart. I think it was probably nothing more than the grippe.”

“Let us hope so.” Cassie wasn’t really convinced, but she didn’t want to discourage her friend. “Shall we continue reading
The Wide, Wide World
? I know we usually read in the morning, but the afternoon light is quite nice in this room.”

“In a moment. I want first to know that you are all right.

You’ve been preoccupied these last couple of days. Has Sebastian been bothering you again? I know he’s had many people in and out. Mrs. Dixon keeps me informed.”

Cassie had hoped to keep the matter from Mrs. Jameston, especially since she didn’t know what Sebastian had been up to. “I’ve found I can hold my own with your son.”

“He’s a cad, Cassie, and if I know my son, he’s merely planning his strategies. One of the last lengthy conversations we had was just before I fell ill. He was arrogant and self-assured, but also demanding, wanting to know why I couldn’t simply release his inheritance to him and sell this huge house. He wants everything he can get his hands on—even my mother’s jewelry and the pieces his father bought me. He even suggested I turn everything over to him and let him care for me, but we both know how that would go.”

“Why does he think himself entitled? He treats you cruelly and then expects you to put your life in his hands?” Cassie shook her head and put down the thick volume she held. “I don’t want to speak ill against your son, Mrs. Jameston, but I cannot help it. He has said things that have been . . . well . . . rather threatening.”

“I’ve no doubt of it,” Mrs. Jameston replied. “I suppose . . .

I suppose it would be better if you left me.”

Cassie leaned forward and patted Mrs. Jameston’s hand.

“I am not leaving you. I do not fear for myself. I fear for you.

He’s always talking about when this shall all be his. He speaks of being my master once you are gone. I do not like the way he talks about you. I must say, Mark—I mean Mr. Langford— feels the same way.”

Mrs. Jameston smiled. “What of your Mr. Langford? Are things becoming serious between the two of you? I believe it will just be a matter of time before he proposes, and what a story you shall have to tell your children!”

Cassie startled. “What do you mean?”

The older woman chuckled. “That you met when he nearly ran you over with his horse. And then he taught you to love horses again.”

“Well, I cannot pretend I love them, but at least I can tolerate them more readily. He wants us to ride in the park next Sunday, but I’m not at all comfortable with the idea.”

“Oh, you’ll do fine. You should go and enjoy the afternoon.”

Cassie frowned. “But I do not like leaving you alone. I’m not trying to frighten you, but I am worried about your son trying to do you harm.”

Mrs. Jameston’s expression saddened. “I’m too tired and weary of the fight. Sebastian will do what he will do. We cannot hope to stop him from that.”