Patricia Rice (14 page)

The butler/valet straightened stiffly. “I did not doubt your
word, my lady. I merely sought your comfort. You are in the right, of course.
Forgive me.”

He managed to sound insulted and aggrieved at the same time.
She knew theatrics when she saw them. She ignored his demonstration of loyalty and
stalked off across the field to Merrick House.

Wouldn’t the Countess Merrick be surprised to see the bane
of her existence at the breakfast table?

Shortly later, the countess raged into the drawing room when
Cassandra refused to leave.

“Good morning, my lady.” Cassandra turned innocent eyes to
the heavily fleshed woman in brocade entering the room. “Please pardon my not
calling upon you sooner. The exigencies of moving from city to country are
probably not known to someone who has led such a staid and respectable life in
the same place for so long. I do hope you never have to undergo such travail.”

The countess straightened to her full magnificent height. “I
am certain that I never shall move about in such a harum-scarum manner. Did my
servant not tell you we are not receiving today?”

“But this is a business and not a social call, my lady.” Not
having been offered a seat, Cassandra sat anyway. She threw an admiring glance
around the room, noting the age of the draperies, the dust under the
hundred-year-old furniture, and the signs of wear in the carpet.

Wyatt would not note such humdrum details but his mother
ought certainly to have seen such things if she were to play lady of the manor.
She had heard much of this dragon Wyatt called mother. It would be interesting
to try pulling a few of her teeth. “I have come to see Lord Merrick. I will be
quite content to sit here until he has time to see me.”

The dowager’s jaw dropped and her bulging eyes appeared to
protrude a little more at such bad manners. “You most certainly will not! I
will tell Wyatt you wish to speak with him, and he will call upon you when and
if it is convenient for him. He is a very busy man and hasn’t time to be
bothered with trivialities.”

Cassandra smoothed the rough weave of her blue broadcloth
skirt as if it were silk, then smiled graciously at her hostess. “And to think
you were almost my mama-in-law. Do you think we should suit?”

The dowager’s high-pitched wail brought instant reaction. A
liveried footman raced to catch her as she slumped, and a masculine voice
echoed with irritation from down the hall.

“What the hell is wrong now? Hanley, go see what is
happening. James, see if my curricle is ready yet. Why the deuce a man can’t
have a moment’s peace...”

His commands abruptly halted as he stepped into the salon.
Caught in the act of drawing on his gloves, Wyatt froze. “Lady Cassandra.”

“Lord Merrick,” she mimicked perfectly. She said nothing
further, leaving him to wallow in the mire and find his way out of this social
nightmare.

Rapidly overcoming her vapors, Lady Merrick resolved the
dilemma. “Send her home, Wyatt! Do not let her corrupt you with her scheming
wiles! Send her back to her husband.”

Merrick lifted a puzzled brow at his prostrate parent, then
turned to Cassandra. “My lady, perhaps a breath of fresh air would do us good?”

“Very neatly done, my lord,” Cassandra said approvingly.

Taking Wyatt’s arm, she stopped before the haughty dowager
taking smelling salts from a terrified maid. “I’d recommend fresh air and
exercise, Lady Merrick. My mother prospers greatly if lavished with those rare
commodities. Thank you for your hospitality. I will be pleased to call upon you
on a better occasion.”

She swept out of the room on the earl’s arm, well aware of her
audience. The contrast between her simple cotton dress and Merrick’s tailored
coat and immaculate breeches must be striking, but she felt more comfortable
this way. At least, swathed from head to toe in crude cotton, she knew men
weren’t staring at her bosom.

Merrick halted at the foot of the wide stairway where his
curricle awaited. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

The smile disappeared from Cassandra’s face as she met his
dry gaze. “You know very well to what you owe this visit, Wyatt. I did not
expect it of you, indeed, I did not. I will not apologize for upsetting your
mother. You deserved it. I cannot believe you were so very wicked. I want you
to call those men away right now, and I want you to give them their day’s wages
even if they don’t finish the job. Find them employment elsewhere, I don’t
care, but do not seek to varnish your reputation at the ruin of mine.”

Wyatt gaped in astonishment at this tirade from one so
young, but then he remembered to whom he spoke. Cassandra’s looks were her
greatest asset, and not in the usual way that was meant.

It was her seeming innocence that kept deceiving him. He had
to remember this vision of sunshine and roses could swindle a man to his last
penny and drive a grown man to desperation. The last was the only possible
reason he could conceive of for the catastrophe of her wedding night.

“I had no intention of doing more than offering a neighborly
hand, my lady,” Merrick responded coldly. “As you say, the men needed work and
I offered them some. I would have done the same for anyone.”

“Then send them to mend Mrs. Smith’s chicken-house so the
fox won’t eat her hens again. Remove them from my property now, Merrick!”

She stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips and
scowled at him with ferocity. Merrick grinned.

“Since you put it so politely, of course, my lady. If you
will join me, we can drive over there now.” He offered his arm to assist her
into the waiting carriage.

“I will walk,” she insisted with dignity.

“I will not come.” He beamed with amusement at her irate
glare. “You have had things your own way too long, Cass. I’ll not be browbeaten
by a pretty face and a sharp tongue. You wish me to accompany you back to your
house, then it shall be at my convenience, not yours.”

“I thought you were a gentleman, Wyatt Mannering! You are
the one who turned my house all into an uproar, now you must undo it. I don’t
know why I must suffer your company for you to do so.”

Wyatt was adamant. “I don’t know why you should object to a
simple carriage ride. I have no intention of abducting you.”

Huffily she refused his arm and climbed into the curricle on
her own. The open vehicle tilted under Wyatt’s weight, but she stared straight
ahead, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

“Sulking is scarcely ladylike, Cass. I still cannot fathom
why you will not accept my offer of help. If we are neighbors, we need to be
friends.”

“Had I been Duncan, would you have sent workmen to repair
his roof without permission?”

Merrick whistled softly to himself and whipped the reins of
his horse as they turned onto the rutted roadway that ran along the front
boundaries of their estates. “I had not thought of it that way. Of course I
wouldn’t have. But then, I wouldn’t care if raindrops fell on Duncan’s head for
the rest of his life, either. He got himself where he is today, let him reap
the results.”

“And you think I am so helpless that I had no responsibility
for getting myself where I am today?” Cassandra inquired scathingly. “Little do
you know the power of a woman, my lord. I got myself here, and I will get
myself out. Without your help.”

There was little Merrick could say in reply. She was in all
probability quite right. He had offered her an alternative to Rupert, and she
had refused him.

He knew he did not have Rupert’s handsomeness or social
grace, and he certainly did not possess Rupert’s wealth. And Rupert was a few
years younger than himself. From the viewpoint of a young girl, he could see
why Cassandra had made her decision. Yet he could not quite get over his
disbelief.

She had kissed him with a passion he had never before
experienced in his life, yet that kiss had obviously meant nothing to her. It
was time to consider taking a mistress if he let one kiss from a girl fresh out
of the schoolroom go straight to his head.

“I’m that sorry, m’lord, but I won’t be helping with the
planting this year. You see, well, me and Meg been talking of marrying, and with
what I figure to make working for Lady Cass, we’ll be able to set up housekeeping
come fall. I’ll understand if you’ll need the cottage to let to someone else. I
know her ladyship ain’t got nothing to let me, but I’m figuring I’ll get by
till the weather turns. And her ladyship says I can have a choice of places to
build when I’m ready. You see how it is, your lordship. A man has to take care
of his own the best he sees how.”

Beating his riding crop thoughtfully against the top of his
leather boot, Merrick regarded the young farmer with a slight frown. Wigginton
was one of his best workers, ambitious, hardworking, self-driven. He hated to
lose him. What could Cass possibly have offered that he could not?

“I understand, Wigginton. A man must look out for his own.
Can I not match what Lady Cassandra has offered?”

The tow-haired young man scuffed his old shoe in the dirt
without looking up to his employer and his landlord. “She promised me half of
everything made from the crop I raise. I know that land, your lordship. It’s
been fallow a long time. This first year won’t be the best, but I can make it
grow. It’s the best chance I got.”

He was beginning to sound defensive, and Merrick understood
his position. Merrick could provide a cottage and equipment and seeds, but the
cost of that cut into his profits to such a degree that he could never match
Cass’s offer. Cass, on the other hand, had nothing to lose by her generous
proposition. She was just teaching the young man to gamble.

“What will you use to plow the fields?” Wyatt inquired.

Wigginton straightened his shoulders and dared a quick look
at the earl. “My grandpap built a plow of his own. It’s not like one of yours,
of course, your lordship, but it’s sturdy and I’m strong. Maybe by next fall,
there’ll be money to buy a better.”

“Well, Wigginton, I hate to lose you, you know that. And if
things don’t work out as you plan, you’re always welcome back. I can’t afford
to lose too many workers like you. Are there others considering taking up Lady
Cassandra’s offer?”

The young man glanced down at the ground again. “One or two,
m’lord. Them without families, leastways. It’s an opportunity that don’t often
come our way, and it’s better than the mines.”

“Yes, I can understand that. I wish you the best of luck,
Wigginton. I’ll not need the cottage immediately. You can stay on awhile
longer, if you like. There will be a reckoning to pay come harvest, of course,
but I’ll make it fair.”

Wigginton tugged his forelock gratefully. “Thank you, m’lord.”

Wyatt whistled to himself as he strode back to his horse. He
began to understand his mother’s tantrums over Cass’s arrival. It wasn’t just Cass’s
reputation that was driving his mother wild. It was her interference with their
tenants.

Cass was clever, he would grant her that. What cottages
remained on the Howard estate had gone to rack and ruin. The equipment and
animals had been sold off long ago. The fields were a mire of bramble and weed,
but the land beneath was good soil that Wyatt would have given a fair sum to
own. It was all Cassandra needed to tempt a farmer.

It was not enough to make her wealthy. One bad year could
wipe her out, but Cass had been raised to be a gambler.

He had always presumed that land was entailed since Duncan
neither sold it to pay his debts nor gambled it away. Cassandra could be
risking everything if her brother discovered her intentions. Wyatt scowled.

It was his responsibility to write to Duncan and inform him
of his sister’s whereabouts. The marquess had seemed truly anxious over his
sister’s disappearance, although he had hidden it well by scoffing and
repeating his usual phrases about Cass taking care of herself.

Wyatt still had not resolved to report her by the time he
rode into the village to discover the object of his thoughts sweeping through
town in her colorful skirt with a market basket on her arm.

~*~

Cassandra could not miss the massive stallion and its
elegant master riding through the narrow street of low stone cottages. Although
Merrick had not bothered with hat or intricate cravat, he still maintained the
aura of an aristocrat in his tailored riding coat and tight trousers. The
immaculately polished riding boots alone distinguished him as a man with the
resources to employ a skilled valet. Cassandra felt her lack of even a decent
means of bathing and abruptly started toward the bakery.

A familiar shout caused her to swing around with a mixture
of hope and despair. Merrick would never be so rude as to shout, but Bertie had
never been bothered by such niceties. He hurried after her now, even as Merrick
swung down from his stallion. She was fairly caught, and she tried not to look
too closely at the scowl marring the earl’s noble forehead.

As long as she was caught, she ought to make the best of it.
Holding out her hands, she forced Bertie to take them in his own. With a catch
in her voice she managed a small whisper. “I’m so sorry, Bertie, I have never
been able to tell you...”

Her voice broke and she hastily dropped Bertie’s hands and
turned to hide her tears.

“It ain’t nothing to weep over, Cass,” Bertie assured her. “Tom
was half-bosky or he’d never been fool enough to go out. He’s learned his
lesson the hard way.”

That seemed a callous way to regard a brother’s death, and
Cass wiped her eyes to stare at him. “Hard lesson? Bertie, he was the bravest,
sweetest...”

“Most foolish idiot that ever walked the earth,” Wyatt
finished, arriving to hear this last. He gave Bertie a warning look. “Lady
Cassandra has been somewhat out of touch with the city these last few weeks.”