Page 5 of His Tempting Duchess

Cassian paused, glancing across the crowd to where a white-faced figure stood, her maid of honor’s dress rather crumpled from the rush. It seemed that in the excitement of what Miss Daphne Belmont had done, everybody had forgotten about Miss Emily.

“Not today,” he answered. “Your patience is appreciated.”

The rector nodded. “Those Belmont girls are infamous for their weddings,” he explained. “I shouldn’t like to marry one.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “I imagine the sentiment is mutual.”

Before the rector could understand that he’d been insulted, Cassian turned back to Richard.

“There’s a wedding breakfast and such that will need to be dealt with,” he said, his voice low. “Would you attend to it? And do what damage control you can. Of course, there’ll be no stopping the story from getting out, and I fear that Miss Daphne’s reputation is irrevocably destroyed, but let’s see what can be done.”

Richard nodded miserably. “I am sorry, Cassian. This whole business is a mess. I know that… that you haven’t much time to spare.”

Cassian clenched his jaw. He spent his days trying not to think of his father, or Matthew, or the will and its deadline.

Generally, he did not succeed.

Richard began to push his way through the crowded aisle, heading for the doors. A whisper was coming back that Miss Daphne had hopped on a horse and ridden for the forest.

With Richard gone, Cassian was free to turn to Miss Emily Belmont, who was now staring at the crowd with a rather miserable expression. Her family had been swept out by the throng. Otherwise, they would no doubt have been at her side.

While her features were, on first inspection, identical to her sister’s, Cassian could see differences. Her face was more heart-shaped, her eyes larger and fringed with dark lashes, her lips redder. Of course, her blue eyes were markedly different, shot through with streaks of gold and even brown. They made the ever-changing sea look flat and dull, in fact.

He thought that Miss Emily was the prettier of the two—not that it mattered.

She glanced up as he approached, her eyes unfocused. A distinct wariness came over her expression, and she backed away. There was something like panic in her gaze, reminiscent of an animal being cornered. Tears glittered in her eyes, and Cassian found himself struck by a desire to wrap his arms around her and assure her that all would be well.

He did no such thing, of course.

He paused, leaving a respectable distance between them.

“My apologies for disturbing you,” he said smoothly. “I imagine you have a great deal to reflect on.”

She eyed him, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “A great deal, indeed.”

“I thought perhaps we might talk some things over. I don’t know about you, but now I have a whole day to spend as I wish.”

It was a joke, but she did not smile. She only stared up at him, her gaze steely despite the lack of her spectacles.

“What do you want, Your Grace?”

He tilted his head. “I’m sure you must have guessed by now that a mistake has been made, Miss Belmont.”

CHAPTER3

The world was a confusing rush of colors for Emily. Without her spectacles, even the familiar faces of her family were difficult to pick out from the crowd. It sent a rush of anxiety through her, which wasn’t particularly easy to hide.

And a tall, dark-haired blur was now coming towards her, and she had a nasty suspicion that it was the man she was meant to marry. She squinted, and was able to make out a little more of his features. She knew that he was a handsome man—if that counted for anything—with a mop of dark hair and green eyes fringed with long, dark eyelashes. He was something of a dandy, it was said, with the finest clothes in London, but he managed not to be ridiculous about it.

He gave a brief bow. “My apologies for disturbing you. I imagine you have a great deal to reflect on.”

He had a deep voice, cultured and even. Some might even have described it as pleasant.

“Yes,” she responded at once. “A great deal, indeed.”

She was having difficulty focusing on his face, and that would continue until she could go home and get her spare spectacles, which had to be left behind out of necessity. Her poor eyesight left her with a feeling of vulnerability that she did not like much. Not to mention the fact that hers and Daphne’s rapid change of costume meant that she still had her hair done up in the elaborate bridal style, with pins digging into her scalp.

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