Part 15 (2/2)
”My G.o.d, Wyndham, you're back from the grave!” Rob said with amazed pleasure. His expression changed as he saw and correctly interpreted the casual intimacy between Grey and Ca.s.sie. His voice hardened. ”You seem to have come out of France smelling of roses, Wyndham.”
”Hardly,” Grey said, frowning as he looked from Rob to Ca.s.sie and back.
”I thought you had better judgment than to fall for cheap charm,” Rob said to Ca.s.sie, his voice brittle. ”Or is it for his money? Wyndham certainly has more than I do, and he had a reputation for being generous to his mistresses.”
”Watch your tongue, Carmichael!” Grey removed his arm from Ca.s.sie's shoulders and stepped forward, his hands tightening into fists. ”Apologize to her!”
”For speaking the truth? Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely!” Rob also moved into a fighter's stance, his jaw set with fury.
”Stop it, both of you!” Ca.s.sie snapped in a voice that could have cut gla.s.s. ”You're behaving like children!”
Mrs. Powell, who ran the house with her husband, had been drawn to the foyer by the sound of voices, so Ca.s.sie continued, ”Mrs. Powell, this is Mr. Sommers and he'll be staying here for a while. Please take him up to a room.”
When Grey opened his mouth to protest, Ca.s.sie gave him a glance that said Go! He didn't look happy about that, but he followed Mrs. Powell up the stairs.
”No need to send him off,” Rob said, his voice harsh. ”I'm leaving. I doubt our paths will cross much in the future, Ca.s.sandra.”
”You are not leaving until we talk, Robert,” Ca.s.sie said firmly. ”In the drawing room.” She grabbed his arm so he couldn't escape without shaking her off.
After a moment of boulder-like resistance, he accompanied her into the adjoining room. In the better light, Ca.s.sie saw pain in Rob's eyes. Her annoyance evaporated. ”I'm sorry, Rob. I didn't intend that you find out in such a difficult way.”
”I don't think there is any good way to dismiss a lover,” he bit out.
”You and I weren't lovers, Rob. We were friends and occasional bedmates when it suited us. We swore no vows of love or constancy.”
”Did you intend to tell me that you were with Wyndham? Or did you hope I wouldn't find out?”
She sighed. ”You and I have never talked about other lovers, though since I'm in France so much, I've a.s.sumed you don't always sleep alone when I'm not here.”
”Oddly enough, I have.” His mouth twisted. ”I thought we were more than merely convenient bedmates.”
”Yes, but the true bond has always been friends.h.i.+p, not romantic love.” She caught his gaze with her own, wanting him to believe her words. ”The friends.h.i.+p and caring and trust have been real, Rob. I would hate to lose that.”
A muscle in his jaw jerked. ”Why Wyndham, Ca.s.sie? His legendary charm? It was hard to hate him even when I wanted to.”
She frowned. ”Why did you want to hate him?”
He shrugged. ”Merely because I was jealous that everything came so easily to him.”
And nothing had come easily to Rob. ”Perhaps it will make you feel better to know that Grey spent ten years in solitary confinement in a castle dungeon,” she said tartly. ”I a.s.sure you that surviving that did not come easily.”
”Ten years of solitary confinement?” Rob exclaimed, looking appalled. ”Poor devil. You helped him escape?”
She nodded. ”We've only just returned to England.” Wearily she unfastened her cloak. ”I was looking forward to a quiet evening.”
”With Wyndham.” Rob shook his head. ”I have trouble imagining you with him. Is it because he needs you for now and you feel bound to help him?”
Why Wyndham indeed? ”Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. ”You never let yourself need anyone or anything, Rob. I'm the same. Both of us are experts at asking for nothing. So self-sufficient that we can't connect deeply with another human being. With Grey, I ... I become someone else.”
Rob's gaze was searching. ”Are you in love with him?”
”A little, I suppose.” She hesitated, not sure how honest she could let herself be. But Rob deserved honesty. ”With him, I feel again. It hurts, but it's ... rewarding.”
”Ah, Ca.s.sie, I didn't know you had a shred of romance in your soul.” Rob pulled her into a swift, hard hug. ”If you want more than you had with me, I hope you find it. But it won't be with Wyndham. He'll never marry you.”
Recognizing that this was an embrace of friends, she relaxed against his hard, familiar body, tears stinging her eyes. Though they might save their friends.h.i.+p, any chance of becoming more was gone. ”If I ever had such illusions, I've been sufficiently warned by any number of people eager to explain how that will never happen. When Wyndham and I go our separate ways, I won't be surprised or devastated.”
She was very good at moving on alone.
Rob's anger was gone, but he sounded wistful when he said, ”I thought that someday the two of us might retire to a quiet village where we could bore each other with our old war stories. But that isn't going to happen, is it?”
”Highly unlikely,” she agreed. ”But ... Rob, can we be friends again? Please?”
”We can.” He ended the embrace. ”But I'm glad I'm off to Scotland. I should be sufficiently busy that I won't pine.”
”You won't pine,” she said with a touch of amus.e.m.e.nt. ”I was just a habit.”
”Perhaps, but a good one,” he said quietly. ”Take care, my dear girl.”
She watched him leave the room, taut and always ready for trouble, and wished they'd been able to love each other.
Girding herself for another difficult discussion, Ca.s.sie headed upstairs. She met Mrs. Powell at the top of the steps.
”I put Mr. Sommers in the room at the back of the house where it's nice and quiet,” the older woman said. Though she was middle-aged and known for steady good sense and discretion, she gave a girlish giggle. ”He's quite the handsome fellow, he is! How long will he be staying?”
Grey's charm was obviously recovering along with the rest of him, Ca.s.sie thought acerbically. ”Several weeks, perhaps. He's an old friend of Lord Kirkland's.”
”A lord himself, I'll be bound,” Mrs. Powell said as she turned to descend the stairs. ”I'll make sure he's comfortable.”
Ca.s.sie headed down the long corridor to the Blue Room. After knocking on the door as warning, she entered before Grey had time to tell her to go away.
He stood at the window watching night fall on London, the dome of St. Peter's silhouetted against the skyline. He was cool and remote and very much Lord Wyndham.
”I'm sorry for that scene,” she said without preamble. ”It was the purest bad luck that Rob Carmichael happened to stop by as we were arriving.”
”Bad luck indeed,” he said, not turning to look at her.
”You knew I was no innocent virgin,” she said with exasperation.
”Neither was I, but my dalliances are all ten years in the past.” After a long silence, he said haltingly, ”And ... there's a difference between abstract knowledge and knowing that you've been with a man I know and always found rather intimidating.” In a softer voice, he added, ”A man who seems very much your sort.”
”Intimidating is a useful trait for a Bow Street Runner,” she agreed, interested in how the two men saw each other. ”Will you please stop staring out the window?”
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