Page 27 of An Unwitting Alliance
Cassandra smothered a laugh.
“Miss Vail, I beg you.” He shook one leg, trying to get the cats to relinquish him. It seemed there was no better time than the present to finish his apology. “At least listen to me, then. At the ball, I was only trying to do my friend a favor. I mixed you up with another woman because I thought your green dress was red.”
She frowned, her confusion evident.
“I know it isn’t spoken about often, but it’s not an unheard-of phenomenon either,” he explained, ignoring the darn cats, whose nails were puncturing through his clothes to his skin. “My grandfather was this way, and I’ve copies of the chemist John Dalton’s papers at home I can send for if you require proof. I meant no harm to you; I promise.”
Cassandra’s brow pinched in the middle. “So you weren’t a man trying to toy with me in particular—just some other unsuspecting young lady? You think this explanation helps my opinion of you?”
She had a point. A darn good one. He lowered his chin, feeling the same regret that had tortured him after the ball. “You are absolutely right. My loyalty to my friend momentarily blinded me to the situation. My ill behavior was uncalled for, and I am sorry you were caught in the middle of it.”
He could see the distrust still in her eyes. “So you betrothed yourself to me as a way of apology?” She swallowed and shook her head. “I cannot think this is any less of a blunder than the first one.” She pulled Megan past him, but unfortunately for her, he was still blocking the part of the door with the handle.
He leaned into her, his desperation to gain her forgiveness only doubling when so near her. “It’s a long story starting with a barrister and some very meddlesome mamas.” He held Tiger up to her, hoping the kitten’s adorableness would soften the woman’s heart.
She accepted the cat, but the mention of the Matchmaking Mamas seemed to ruin her belief in his sincerity. “I do not believe a single word you say, so please keep your stories to yourself.”
He bent forward to pry a cat’s nails from his breeches, and she took the opportunity to grab ahold of the door handle and pull Megan inside. When he turned to plead for her understanding, the door shut in his face.
So much for winning her over to his side. How was he ever going to convince her to work with him rather than against him? They had a betrothal to end and not a lot of time in which to do it. He slumped against the door, letting the cats have free rein of him.
* * *
Cassandra fell against the door, and a laugh finally escaped.
“Cassandra!” Megan said. “We cannot abandon Mr. Harwood. He needs our help.”
“He certainly does, but he also needs to be taken down a notch. He is much too confident in himself.” Cassandra clutched Tiger closer to her, reveling in his feathery-soft fur. “However, even if we are not to assist him, we can still watch.” She waved Megan to the nearest window.
Setting down their sewing baskets, they parted the curtains. Mr. Harwood awkwardly unlatched one kitten after another from his breeches. He managed to return most of them to the basket, but one got away between his legs.
Cassandra laughed right as he looked up at her and caught them. She brought her hand to her mouth but shamelessly made no effort to move away from the window. He wagged his finger at them before turning to chase after the kitten who had already made it to the lawn. But even after he left, his blue eyes stayed in her thoughts. Her mind replayed how he had leaned toward her at the door and how she had had to pretend not to be affected by his nearness.
As he bounded down the steps and chased the errant kitten across the grass, despite her efforts to resist, she grinned.
Megan sighed. “Mr. Harwood is more sentimental than I pegged him for. You have to admit his gift is adorable.”
Cassandra could not deny it. “I am inclined to agree with you. I have never had such an extravagant apology.” Her fingers stroked Tiger’s head and back. “And he actually listened to what I said about wanting to be a spinster with cats.” She shook her head. “Butdoes he truly believe he is fulfilling my heart’s desire, or is he simply trying to vex me?” She stared at him through the window again, nearly hoping he would look over at her once more. “You know, I actually believe him about confusing his colors. It’s too strange to make up. I can almost forgive him for mixing me up with someone else.”
“Except?” Megan’s brow furrowed.
Cassandra sighed this time. “Except we are still engaged. Can he really think to drag me back to Brookeside to face all those people after what happened?” She stepped away from the window and Megan followed her. “And after dealing with Patricia Pollard, I am afraid my patience is all used up for those who intend ill will on others. If he had not mistaken me, then some other girl would have been hurt that night. What if turning my ankle spared me from even greater harm? No, I cannot trust the man.”
Mr. Buttars came around the stairs. “Miss Vail, I did not know you had returned. A letter came for you shortly after you left.” He went to the small table in the vestibule and slid open a narrow drawer, revealing a single folded letter. He retrieved it and handed it to Cassandra.
“Thank you, Mr. Buttars.” One glance and she knew it was from her aunt. She gave a hopeful look to Megan. “Will you check on Mama for me and let her know we have returned?”
“No more useless errands.” Megan folded her arms, and her mouth formed a strong line. “I want to know what Aunt says.”
“Very well. Let’s go to the morning room so Mr. Harwood cannot find us.” Cassandra led the way, and soon they were sequestered inside and seated at a table against the wall.
“What does it say?” Megan asked, leaning forward.
“I have not even opened it yet.” Cassandra set Tiger in her lap and wasted no time in breaking the seal and unfolding the letter. She scanned the contents, and her heart sank to the floor. “The answer is no.” She had believed her aunt would readily accept her company. How could she have guessed so wrong?
She stroked Tiger absently as she reviewed her recent trip, wondering how she had failed her aunt, but from Cassandra’s perspective, they had gotten on so well. She had patiently endured many house visits and had read or sewed silently during Aunt’s naps. And in the evenings, she had been respectful of Aunt’s solitude.
“Does she say why?” Megan reached for the letter.
