Page 75 of The Lady's Last Mistake
Michael’s nostrils flared, and the black look he shot at Grant spoke volumes. He was suspicious enough to make Cassie’s pulse skip.
“I suppose that is understandable, however I have also learned this was not your first night away from the residence.” He turned his incisive glare onto her. “This is my household, my staff. They are merely at your disposal. Did you really think that I would not find out you went to Neatham’s for the night? And that there was some concern about a man following you from a boxing club in Limehouse? What in God’s name were you doing there, Cassandra?”
The footman and Ruth had disappeared to give them privacy, but Cassie still did not want to have this conversation in the foyer. She gestured toward the front sitting room, beckoning her brother inside. It would also give her a moment to think. Poor Patrick. Michael had to have cornered him with questions.
“It was my doing, Your Grace.” Cassie turned to stare at Grant as they entered the room. With a furtive glance, he silently told her to go along with it. “I invited Lady Cassandra to Duke’s for the match.”
He even appeared properly chagrinned as Michael’s contemptuous glare increased. “You thought a place like that was decent for my sister?”
“Michael, please stop.” Cassie stepped between her brother and the man she still could not quite believe she’dmade love to. Twice. If they remained in the same room for any longer, she feared Michael would pick apart the truth of it. “Lord Thornton, thank you for delivering me safely home.”
It was a polite dismissal, and with a deep bow, and a glance toward the duke, Grant moved for the door.
“Thornton,” Michael said, dragging Grant’s heels to a stop. “The duchess is hosting a dinner at Violet House Saturday night. I expect you to be there. It appears we have important matters to discuss.”
Grant bowed again and, likely with great relief, took his leave. The moment the front door shut behind him, Cassie whirled to face her brother. “I will ask you not to involve yourself in my relationship with Lord Thornton.”
That word—relationship. She had even less of an idea what it meant now than she did before.
Michael’s shoulders slackened some, his show of hostility abating now that Grant was gone. “He is not suitable for you, Cassie.”
Tobias had warned her that their brother would not approve. She crossed her arms as she went to the front window overlooking the square. Grant’s carriage was pulling away from the curb. Whether her brother approved or not hadn’t mattered before, especially since it was a fictitious courtship. The barbs of irritation she now felt from his pronouncement were unwarranted.
“He is Lord Neatham’s closest friend,” she said. “And Audrey approves of him.”
“While I respect the viscount and viscountess’s opinions, there is no question that his reputation is tainted. Not to mention his methods are crude. Offering to put your order atthat modiste’s on his account! What was he playing at, treating you like one of his mistresses?”
Jane and her enormous mouth had likely divulged the incident to Genie, who in turn had told Michael.
“He is doing no such thing,” Cassie replied, even as a vivid image of his naked form, gilded by firelight and moving over her, made her blush.
Michael shook his head, unconvinced. “You’ve been taken in by one rogue already, and I was ignorant to it. I will not turn a blind eye again.”
Cassie bristled while trying to maintain her calm. Her brother had confessed before that he blamed himself for not keeping a better eye on her after she’d met Lord Renfry. What he couldn’t quite understand however was that it had nothing to do with him. She’d made her own choices, poor though they’d been. And now, he was likening Grant to one of the worst blackguards in London.
“Grant is nothing like Renfry.Nothing,” she said, her ire growing. “You shouldn’t judge his character based on the rumors you hear at White’s.”
“Not just at White’s,” he argued. But she would hear no more of it.
“It’s been a long night, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to change my gown.”
Michael exhaled, and though he appeared to want to say more, he relented. “Very well. You will come to dinner Saturday night too, of course?”
She nodded, thinking there was nothing she would like less. Except perhaps another dinner with Lord Lindstrom.
Her brother left, and small shivers set in. She wasn’t cold.Exhaustion weighed her down as she summoned Ruth and had her prepare a bath.
Michael infuriated her at times. He’d been pestering her to marry for years, and yet the man she’d finally chosen to court was not good enough? She squeezed her eyes shut. No, she had notchosenhim. She wasn’t courting him at all! Even now, after their night together and their frenzied coupling in the carriage, Grant did not plan to ask for her hand. She’d laid out their agreement firmly. Cassie had wanted to know pleasure; now, he’d given it to her. She pushed aside a strange, hollowing sensation. She’d told him she wouldn’t demand anything more, and she would not go back on her word.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
As the carriage pulled into the mews behind Hope House, the constriction around Grant’s throat intensified. It felt as if he was inhaling and exhaling through a slim, hollow tube. Sweat gathered under his suit and at his temples.
Patrick brought the horses to a stop, and Grant descended straightaway, his doctor’s bag clutched in his hand. He wasn’t prepared for this in the slightest.
When Cassie’s driver had shown up at Thornton House shortly past five o’clock, Grant had just returned from Jackson’s on Bond Street. His home had been too quiet for the past day, ever since he’d returned from their night at Lindstrom House. He’d needed a distraction from the relentless barrage of images. Of Cassie coming apart in his arms, of her blushes during breakfast the next morning, of the exquisite pleasure of sinking into her while she straddled him in the carriage and rode him with unbridled passion.
