Andrea Kane (6 page)

At Braden’s words something flashed in Charles’s deep blue eyes, something unreadable but brutally intense. “He does not deserve such a daughter. And she does not deserve such a life.” His voice was filled with anger.

Braden nodded. “No, she does not. And I cannot allow her to live it. Unprotected and alone.” He slammed his fist down in frustration. “But what can I do? She refused my offer. Whether out of fear or pride, I don’t know.”

Charles inclined his head. “I have never known you to be deterred from anything you wanted in the past.”

Braden gave him a tight smile. “Nor would I be now. If it were merely a matter of Kassie’s pride, I would not hesitate to ignore it in order to keep her safe. It is not her pride but her fear that concerns me. She is quite obviously terrified of her father. I will not risk worsening the situation by forcing my visits upon her.” He stared off into space. How magnanimous that speech made him appear! The fact was that Kassie elicited feelings and emotions in him that he did not understand, had never before experienced. All he knew was that he had to see her again, and not merely to assure himself of her well-being. He needed to hold her in his arms and immerse himself in the sweetness that had called out to him from the first time they had met. He wanted to taste her mouth, to bury his lips in the wild, fragrant masses of her tumbled dark hair. He wanted to explore the strange, inexplicable fascination that only Kassandra held for him.

“I can do it for you.”

Once again Charles’s words broke into Braden’s thoughts. The carriage had come to a halt before a pillared stairway leading to the high arched front doors of Sherburgh.

“Pardon me?” Braden frowned, attempting to understand his friend’s words.

Charles’s expression was impassive, his gaze unreadable. “I can watch over Miss Grey for you,” he repeated. He cleared his throat. “Your presence would be noticed at once, Braden. It is apparent that the young lady has very strong feelings toward you. Feelings of which her father would, apparently, disapprove. Whereas I could be more discreet, keep an eye on her without being observed.” He gave a quick, mirthless smile, as if enjoying a private and ironic joke. “I am quite good at being both discreet
and
invisible. You are not.”

Braden studied Charles’s face. In truth, he wanted to dispute his friend’s suggestion, for he needed an excuse to see Kassie again. But he could not disagree with what he knew to be true. And Kassie’s safety took precedence over his wishes.

He nodded slowly. If, for the time being, he could not be with her himself, there was no one he trusted more than Charles to take his place. For one and thirty years Charles had been both parent and closest friend to Braden.

“Thank you, Charles.” Braden smiled at him, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart. “If you see anything that makes you uneasy—
anything
at all—come to me at once. No one is going to harm Kassie.”

He climbed out of the carriage, nodding to the footman that stood at attention beside its gleaming door, then strode up the stone steps of the house.

Charles’s expression hardened again, his jaw tight with resolve. “No, Braden. No one will hurt her,” he said quietly to the empty carriage. “No one at all.”

“Braden? Is that you?” Cyril Sheffield peered around the corner of the library.

“Yes, Cyril, none other.” Braden moved purposefully past the bustling servants and into the expansive marble hallway. “I had to stop at the Grey cottage.” Braden proceeded to give his uncle the sketchy details of Robert Grey’s near-fatal accident.

Cyril frowned. “Grey? I remember your questioning me about a man named Grey some years back. Are we speaking of the same person?”

Braden nodded. “We are.”

“Then he is the father of that young girl you met on the beach. …” Cyril paused, attempting to recall the details.

“Kassandra,” Braden supplied.

“Yes, Kassandra,” Cyril repeated, remembering. “And how is Kassandra faring?”

“She is unforgivably neglected.”

Cyril shook his head sympathetically. “I have heard rumors from business associates of her father’s behavior. ’Tis a pity for her sake that he is so pathetic.”

“I want to kill him. Every time I think of it …” His voice trailed off, frustration etched on his handsome face. “I’d like to drop this subject, Cyril. It is something I need to work out for myself.”

“Of course,” Cyril agreed at once. He cleared his throat. “William Devon sent a messenger today with a contract outlining the specifics of your joint business venture.”

Braden nodded absently. “Fine. I’ll read it tomorrow.”

“The messenger also brought a note from the Devon estate inviting us to their house party next month. I had hoped that you—”

“No.”

Braden’s abrupt refusal did not surprise Cyril. Still, he had to try to convince him.

“Braden, surely you would not begrudge him—”

“William is a knowledgeable business partner,” Braden cut in. “We share many of the same views. But our opinion of William’s daughter is not among them. I endure her presence when I must. However, I will not subject myself to an intolerable evening in her company.” He shot Cyril a dark look. “I trust we understand one another?” The question was a mere formality, as Braden had already turned away and was striding toward his bedchamber. “If you will excuse me, Cyril, I believe I will go to bed.”

Cyril sighed resignedly. “Of course. Good night, Braden.”

“Good night.” Braden had already dismissed the discussion of Abigail from his mind, his thoughts returning to Kassie.

And hours later, when exhaustion finally won its battle with Braden’s turbulent emotions, he slept. But his dreams were uneasy, filled with visions of a black-haired enchantress who called out to him for help and penetrated his isolating walls, wrapping herself about his senses and burying herself inside his heart.

Sleep was not forthcoming.

That came as no great surprise to Kassie. The past few weeks had been terribly unsettling. Her nights were restless, filled with the usual dark dreams, broken by fervent longings and wistful fantasies of Braden. Her days were fraught with tension as her father’s humor rapidly disintegrated from poor to black.

Today was no exception. After an unusually abusive tirade Robert Grey had slammed out of the house, leaving a relieved Kassie alone. At least this time he had not struck her. For that she was grateful. More and more often Robert’s angry outbursts were accompanied by a harsh slap to Kassie’s face and the threat of an even cruder beating. Thus far it had remained merely a threat. But his increased drinking and dwindling funds made Robert grow more hostile with each passing day. And Kassie feared that it was only a matter of time before he manifested his frustration in physical violence.

But tonight she was safe. Quietly Kassie padded down the stairs to the main floor, Percy at her heels. A good volume of poetry would help soothe her. It might be the very diversion she needed to ease her into slumber.

Abruptly she stopped. The library door was tightly closed, though a light shining from beneath it indicated that the room was indeed occupied. Kassie frowned. Had her father returned without her knowledge? She paused, uncertain as to what to do. To interrupt him if he was in the midst of one of his tirades would be foolhardy. No, the book could wait.

Kassie had just turned to retreat to the safety of her room when she heard the muffled argument. Though indistinct, the other voice was the same as the one she had overheard talking with her father on the previous occasion.

“That is my offer, Grey. I assure you you will not receive a better one.”

“Oh, cert’nly not,” came Robert’s slurred reply. “It is most generous indeed.”

“You can consider your debts to me paid in full. Not to mention the additional seventy thousand pounds, which should do nicely toward restoring your … comfort,” the self-assured first voice continued.

“Yes, it’ll do that.” Foxed but satisfied came Robert’s reply.

“Fine. Then we have a deal?”

A pause, then the distant scrape of wooden chair legs upon the library floor as the men arose, presumably to shake hands.

“A deal … yes. We have a deal,” Robert echoed. “And you will not be sorry. She is an enviable acquisition.”

Acquisition? What on earth could her father have sold to this man? What did they own that was worth such an enormous sum? Their cottage was quite bare, devoid of valuable paintings or sculptures.

“Oh, I quite agree. She is a spirited beauty … I can tell.”

A horse? Impossible. Their stables had been empty for years. Robert’s gambling and liquor debts had necessitated the sale of all their animals save Percy.

“And not merely beautiful,” Robert was adding. “She is biddable as well, if maintained with the necessary heavy hand.”

A moment of silence. Then the stranger replied, “I will bear that in mind. But I am convinced that she will make an excellent wife.”

Wife? The color drained from Kassie’s face.

“Yes. And she is young, capable of bearing many healthy children.”

“I agree. Your daughter will do quite nicely for my purposes.”

Daughter … it took all of Kassie’s self-control to restrain herself from crying out loud. They were discussing
her,
auctioning her off like a bit of prize horseflesh. Her own father had just sold her to a stranger for £70,000.

Overcome with shock and fury, she staggered to the steps and sank down upon the lowest one, burying her face in her trembling hands. She was half tempted to burst into the library and confront her father and her “buyer” face-to-face. But her drive for self-preservation was too strong. Her father would react uncontrollably and would vent his rage entirely upon her. She was too much of a coward to endure the ensuing abuse, and too proud to have her humiliation witnessed by the unknown visitor. The painful assaults she endured at her father’s hands, both physical and emotional, were hers and hers alone to bear. The confrontation she now sought would have to wait.

Kassie raised her head, staring vacantly off into space. Surely not even her father could stoop so low as to sell her to a virtual stranger. And without a word of forewarning or preparation to her. It was unthinkable. She must have misunderstood. Please God, let her have misunderstood. She lowered her head back into her hands.

Percy’s wet tongue on her cold face brought Kassie up with a start. There was no point in dreaming. Her small fists clenched in her lap, Kassie forced herself to face the cold facts as they existed, not as she willed them to be.

Her father had agreed to sell her to an unknown and obviously affluent gentleman. Once this marriage had taken place there would be nothing Kassie could do but accept it. She rose slowly to her feet, determined to act now, before it was a
fait accompli.
She would wait until Robert was alone. Then she would plead with him to change his mind, not to do this hateful thing to her. He would listen, she assured herself. He was a weak man, but not an evil one. And in his way, he loved her. She was certain of it. He would not enforce this blasphemous act once he knew how abhorrent it was to her.

She would present him with an alternative. Yes, that was it. She would offer to seek employment in order to recoup their financial losses. Surely she could find a position as a governess in a well-to-do home. True, it would not pay very much, but it was a start, a solution of sorts. It had to be.

Kassie turned and walked slowly back upstairs to her room. When her father came up to retire for the night she would explain everything and present him with her plan. Then he would release her from this mockery of an agreement.

Her forced bravado faltered when she heard Robert’s first heavy, unsteady step moving in the direction of his bedchamber. Before she could reconsider Kassie threw open her bedroom door and stepped into the dimly lit hall.

“Father?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.

Robert stopped and turned around to face his daughter. His eyes were bloodshot, his once-handsome face ruddy, his mouth slack. He frowned, walking toward where Kassie stood.

“Kassandra? What’re you doin’ up at this hour?”

Kassie winced as the stench of liquor reached her nostrils. She called upon her failing courage and swallowed deeply.

“I need to speak with you.”

His frown deepened. “About what?”

She licked her trembling, dry lips. “I was unable to sleep tonight.”

Robert rubbed his arm across his forehead and stared down at her. “Another one of your nightmares?” he demanded, searching her face.

“No, Father,” she denied quickly. Knowing how infuriated he became at the mention of her bad dreams, she rarely spoke of them, and on the nights when her screams awakened him she divulged only the sketchiest of details. “I had no particular reason; I was merely wide awake. I came down to get a book.”

Robert’s jaw tightened. “Oh, did you now?”

“Yes. I found the library door closed. I heard voices.”

Robert shoved unruly locks of his limp hair out of his face. “And did you listen to the conversation?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, Father.”

To her amazement, he smiled. “Good. Then there is no need for me to tell you about it.”

Kassie looked as if she’d been kicked. “How could you?” she blurted out without thinking. “How could you do such a thing to me?” Her voice shook.

Robert’s expression grew dark. “And what does that mean?” he demanded.

“You sold me as if I were a common object.”

“Indeed! And that is just what you are!” Robert bellowed, his fists curling with rage.

Kassie gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “How can you say that? I am your daughter!” She felt rage overcome her fear as all thoughts of compromise left her head.

“Yes, you are my daughter—I need no reminder of that!” All traces of drunkenness had vanished beneath a blazing anger such as Kassie had never seen. “And what does that entitle you to, Kassandra? Just what life did you think awaited you as
my
daughter? Did you ever dare to dream that you would marry an affluent man, a man with powerful connections? For that is what you are marrying, daughter. A man who has access to enough riches to provide for you
and
for me for all of our days. Does that not make you hold your tongue? A wealthy man’s wife, Kassandra. That is what you will be. Now what do you say?”