Page 36 of Intolerable
She didn’t want to regret sharing what she had, even as she wondered why she’d revealed it to him when she hadn’t ever told anyone else. Not her father, her brothers, Fiona or Prudence, no one.
Her father walked in through the open door of her sitting room, jarring her thoughts. “Good morning,” he said rather pleasantly. “How was the assembly last night?”
She looked up at him from her chair. “Good morning, Papa. It was lovely. I enjoyed a promenade and a dance with Lord Glastonbury.” She didn’t say waltz since her father would likely disapprove.
Before he could make further inquiry, she asked, “Do you miss Mama?”
She held her breath as a bit of color leached from his face. He never mentioned her, and Cassandra never, ever asked about her.
At length, he said, gruffly, “I do. However, I prefer not to think about it.” His gaze had moved away from her to some indistinct point to the right.
She could see it was painful for him—thinking of his wife. Cassandra understood the benefit of avoiding thinking about someone. What was the point? It wouldn’t bring them back in her mother’s case, nor would it summon them into your life, as in the case of Wexford, whom she couldn’t stop thinking about despite her best efforts.
Not that she could really compare them. Thoughts of her mother were cherished memories. They were all she had. Wexford was very much alive. Still, the memory of his kisses was all she would have of him. And now she could admit that she wanted more.
“Will Glastonbury call on you?” The awkward moment was gone, and the duke had regained his color.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Next week. He did not specify a day.”
His brow furrowed. “Harrumph. I suppose that’s good enough. Last evening, Philip Trowley approached me at White’s. He’d like to pay you a call.”
Cassandra scooted her chair back from the table and jumped to her feet. “I would rather he didn’t.”
“What’s wrong with Trowley?”
Besides his disconcerting leer? “He has children, Papa, and I would prefer to marry a man who doesn’t have any.” She didn’t want to be a mother immediately. “Furthermore, he makes me uncomfortable.”
“I see. Well, you must be comfortable with your husband. I can understand how you’d be more drawn to the handsome and suave Glastonbury.”
“Suave?” Cassandra laughed lightly. “Listen to you, Papa.”
“Besides, you should marry a title, and Trowley doesn’t have one. If things don’t progress with Glastonbury, I’ve been thinking about Lord Gregory Blakemore.”
“Isn’t he in mourning?” His father had died a month or so ago, and he’d retreated from Society. His elder brother, however, the new Marquess of Witney, had been seen at several places this week. She and Fiona had discussed this last night since Lord Gregory had courted her very briefly before Fiona had realized she was in love with her guardian.
“Yes, but that won’t last forever. I expect he’ll be back on the Marriage Mart before the end of the Season. It’s too bad his brother is already married, for then you could have been a marchioness.”
Cassandra was surprised her father had moved past Glastonbury. “I thought you were rather set on the viscount. I’m encouraged to hear you are not.”
Her father’s brows rose. “Does this mean you’ve decided you and he do not suit?”
“Not at all.” Just that she’d rather suit with Wexford. But her father would never support that. Even so, he’d indulged her in many things. If she was in love with someone he didn’t approve of, would he allow her to marry him anyway?
It was a moot question since she wasn’t in love with anyone. Not even Wexford. She was attracted to him, captivated by him. It would pass. She just had to push him from her mind more permanently.
Prudence came in then, stopping short. “I beg your pardon. I’ll come back later.”
“Come in, Pru.” Cassandra beckoned her forward. “Papa and I were just discussing the assembly and how Glastonbury plans to call next week.”
“I look forward to that,” the duke said, pivoting toward the door. “In the meantime, let me know if you dance with him again at the ball tonight.” With a nod toward both her and Prudence, he left.
Prudence had removed her gloves and now untied her bonnet. She set both items on a chair before moving to join Cassandra at the table.
Retaking her chair, Cassandra poured a cup of chocolate for Prudence. “Papa said Trowley requested to pay a call on me.” She sat back in her chair with a shudder and made a face.
