Page 16 of An Unwitting Alliance
“Not Miss Vail?” Tom tsked and looked at Cassandra. “What a shame.”
Cassandra crossed her arms. “My sister forgets I am permitted use of the papers to review current events with Michael and Robert.”
She did not give him an opportunity to rib her further and brushed by him. The contact was slight, but his arm tingled all the same. Who was this woman? He hastened his step as she led the way from the study to the room behind the stairs. She pushed it open and entered. “This is the morning room, but it is currently being used as a schoolroom for Michael and Robert.”
“Cassandra is their teacher,” Megan said. There was pride in her voice, but Tom’s brow shot up.
“You teach?”
Cassandra cleared her throat, and her eyes darted everywhere but his way again. “It is temporary until a new tutor can be found.”
Tom observed the room. A sofa was pushed under three long windows, a fireplace stood in the corner, and a table with four chairs sat against the same wall as the door. With no bookshelf in the room, books sat in piles pushed up against the wall and on one of the table’s chairs. He stepped toward the stack nearest him and ran a hand down the various spines. “French? Italian? Latin? You are very well versed.”
Cassandra’s cheeks darkened. “I am learning along with the boys.”
His eyes widened. “How do you know the pronunciations?”
“I know French passably well and the basics of Latin and Italian, so I...” She cleared her throat. “As I said, I am merely a temporary solution and far from the ideal choice.”
Tom grinned. She was pretty when flustered. Just as pretty as when she was not. “Your brothers are lucky to have you.”
She eyed him, no doubt surprised he had not laced another comment with sarcasm. Every once in a while, he could speak like a proper gentleman and with a touch of sincerity.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. She whirled around and continued the tour upstairs. There were five bedrooms on the second floor. His was on the opposite end of the corridor as Cassandra and Megan’s. In between them was her parents’ room and her brothers’ room. And the last on the other side of his was another guest room. The third floor was small and held the nursery and two bedrooms, one for the nursemaid and one for the little girls. It was a charming nursery, but something about it made Tom uncomfortable. He’d never been at ease around children.
After they had toured all there was to see in the house, they exited the front door and walked out onto the lawn. The weather was perfect, the sunbeams warm on his face with an early-autumn breeze tickling his skin. As they rounded the house, they passed a leafy vegetable garden, fenced off to the side, with an old shed just beyond it. Behind the house, the overgrown lawn was open. The two younger boys were pitted in shuttlecock against their older brother and still unfairly matched. The far perimeter of the lawn was lined with overgrown fruit trees. There was nothing impressive about the place, but Tom rather liked the quaintness of it.
“There is a small flower garden on the other side of the house if a short walk interests you.” Cassandra’s words came out stale. She was clearly bored by either the tour or him. Probably him. But he had to commend her; she had yet to bring up their engagement or his ballroom mistake. Unfortunately, both had to be addressed. He had only so much to work with.
“I adore gardens,” he exaggerated. “Lead the way.”
It was time to open the big mouth Mother Hen often threatened to tie shut with his cravat, but Tom was a fair hand with figures, and the odds were stacking up against him. Still, when retreating wasn’t an option, one must stand his ground and fight. This was nothing like he’d faced in a pugilist ring during his university days, but with some delicate footwork and quick thinking, he still had a chance to convince his intended to trust him.
* * *
Cassandra had never seen this coming. She thought an arranged marriage a terrible thing, but it was far worse now that she knew the identity of her betrothed. Why him of all people? Why?
Love had never been part of her parents’ agreement, but with their connection to the Harwood family, trust had been implied. Cassandra absolutely could not trust Mr. Harwood—not his charming, wide smile nor his laughing blue eyes. Her feelings on the matter were sealed. Herplan was her last hope. Until she heard from her aunt, she had to keep her temper in check, but already she was being pushed beyond her limits.
Megan pointed to some blooms in their small garden. “The bellflowers are Cassandra’s favorites, in case you ever want to present her with a bouquet.”
“You mean in case she wants to presentmewith flowers.” Mr. Harwood bent over and rubbed his fingers on a blue petal. “These will do quite nicely, Miss Vail, but any sort of gift or token of your affection will be appreciated.”
She almost snorted in derision. He was goading her; she knew it. “I will be sure to pass on your requests to your valet when he arrives. I am sure he will see to all your needs.”
“Not all of my needs. My valet could never dance as well as you.”
A vein in her neck threatened to burst if she gritted her teeth any harder. “Megan, be a dear and even out the teams for our brothers.”
“But—”
“Go on. Mr. Harwood and I are through here.”
Mr. Harwood balked. “But I have yet to complete the circuit around your delightful garden.”
“Excuse us, Mr. Harwood.” Cassandra linked arms with Megan and pulled her a good ten feet away.
Megan’s nose wrinkled. “What is going on, Cassandra? You cannot want me to leave you alone.”
