Page 33 of An Unwitting Alliance
“You think you can convince your parents to end this?”
“You meanyourparents. I am an only child. My marriage is everything to my mother. I wrote a letter of complaint just today, but when it comes down to it, I cannot bring myself to disappoint her.Besides, she feels she is doing your family a favor. That’s why I came here—to convince you and your parents to withdraw from the contract.”
“A worthy goal, but you underestimate the Vails. Mama is as stubborn as I am, and Papa thinks you are the greatest man he has ever met.”
“High praise.” Or it would be under other circumstances. “We are in over our heads, then. It is a shame you do not agree with your father and think better of me. We might have at least been friends.”
She scoffed. “Friends? Do you have any friends besides Lord Reynolds?”
Tom chuckled and decided to go for a modest answer. “A few. Surely not as many as you. Not everyone can belong to a prestigious sewing club.”
Cassandra shook her head. “Do not be envious of me. I would not be surprised if Megan and I are not invited to return.”
“And why is that? Do you not care for sewing?” Jemma—their Rebel Vixen—hated to sew too, so Cassandra would not be the first woman of his acquaintance who did not care for the task.
“I love to sew. It is because Patricia Pollard runs the club, and she happens to despise me—almost as much as I despise you.” She said the last part in a teasing voice.
“Then, it must be as bad as you say.”
Cassandra shrugged. “Patricia is Airewell’s diamond of the first water, and we are the Vails. There is no comparison, and she never fails to remind me.”
He stared at her. Did she not realize how beautiful she was? She carried such natural grace, and her self-assurance and drive might be off-putting to some, but to the Rebels it was an asset to be desired. If he were not against marriage, Cassandra would be the kind of woman he would chase after. She would not be content with money and the flattery of those around her but would genuinely care for people as she did her own family. But the greatest shame was that Cassandra believed whatever Miss Pollard said instead of the obvious truth.
“Perhaps you should invite this Miss Pollard to dine with us.”
“So I can impress her with your presence? Who do you take me for, Mr. Harwood?”
His lips quirked. “I have underestimated you time and again. But I was thinking along the lines of serving all of Mrs. Potter’s spicy dishes. I know my stomach has not been the same since I arrived.”
Cassandra gaped, and her hand went to cover her open mouth. “Oh, merciful heavens. I will speak to Mrs. Potter right away.”
She stood, and instinctively, Tom reached for her hand. With wide eyes she looked from their hands to his face. He did not know what had come over him, but he did not let go.
“I think Mrs. Potter would appreciate if you waited until morning.”
“Oh, right.”
He tugged her hand to get her to sit again. He rather liked talking to her and wasn’t eager to return to bed just yet. When she sat, he reluctantly released her, surprised by the sensation her touch left in its wake.
“I do not think we got off on the right foot,” he said.
“No, we did not. I confess it was I who asked Mrs. Potter to make your meals spicy. I told her you had difficulty tasting food.”
His brow arched. “You did what?”
“After the ball and the surprise betrothal, I was desperate.” Her shrug was dainty and her face pained. “I am sorry about your stomach feeling poorly. I only thought to make you uncomfortable, not sick.”
He understood now why Ian had been wary of determined women. They disguised themselves with their sweet appearances and angelic voices but behaved abominably. Tom had never realized how sacred food was until it had been spoiled for him. “My stomach may never trust you again.”
“Which is not a terrible problem so long as we never wed.”
“It scares me how easily you justify your behavior. It seems a truce is necessary.”
“What sort of a truce? Are you suggesting we put aside our differences and agree to marry?” Her lips pushed out into a subtle pout, but it was enough that they caught his attention. Beautiful, full, and crimson in the low light.
His attraction to her was growing.
He tore his gaze from her mouth to the stairs beyond her and forced his reply. “Heavens no. I cannot abide the idea.”
