Page 93 of Intolerable
“I think he said it best himself—he’s given you no reason to.”
Her father walked into the drawing room, stopping abruptly as he caught sight of the flowers. “Did Glastonbury send that?”
“No.” Cassandra didn’t offer the name of the responsible party, though she expected he would ask.
“Good.” The duke came toward the table. “I would have been most irritated after the message I sent him first thing this morning.”
Cassandra turned toward him, her hackles rising. “What message?”
“The one telling him his courtship is no longer welcome. I’m afraid he hasn’t been entirely truthful regarding his interest in you. It has come to my attention he’s in desperate need of funds. His father apparently mismanaged things—poor bloke has too many female relatives to care for—which has left Glastonbury rather cucumberish. He’s far more interested in your dowry than you.”
“He told you that?” Cassandra thought back over the past several weeks and her many encounters with the viscount. Had he moved more slowly in his courtship because he didn’t really want to marry her?
“I haven’t spoken to him. Lucien came to me with this information late last night. This morning, I informed Glastonbury that he was not an acceptable suitor for your hand.”
Lucien had told him—and he’d listened? Her mind scrambled to make sense of any of it. She was certain of one thing: that her father took every opportunity to meddle inherlife.
“You must stop dictatorially deciding who my suitors should be. First, you drive off Wexford with your horrid behavior, all while nattering on about how perfect Glastonbury is, only for you to now say Glastonbury is also not worthy. I thought you saidIcould choose my husband.” Cassandra’s chest heaved as she finished, glaring at her father. Her gaze drifted toward Prudence who was watching her with admiration.
The duke’s eyes widened briefly. “You’d want to marry Glastonbury, even after learning he wasn’t honest about his motivations?”
“No, I don’t want to wed Glastonbury, but that is my choice to make. And it has nothing to do with his motivations. I told you yesterday that I wanted to marry for love, and I won’t settle for less than that.”
“You’d already decided about Glastonbury then.” He sounded a bit deflated. “Who are the flowers from? Is he the one?”
Cassandra hoped so. Before she could respond, Bender entered. “You’ve a caller, Lady Cassandra. Mr. Mansfield.”
“Please show him up, Bender,” her father responded with a smile. The butler departed and the duke puffed up his chest. “Not titled, but a good family. I’ll get out of the way, so I don’t put anyone off.” He winked at Cassandra as if he hadn’t just behaved like an autocrat. Then he departed while Cassandra gaped after him.
“I want to find Ruark,” she muttered before summoning a bright smile. Thankfully she had Prudence at her side to help her suffer through what felt like an endless parade of gentlemen who had no hope of winning her heart. It was firmly in the possession of one devastatingly charming Irish rake.
Chapter 22
“Idon’t care how it looks,” Cassandra said as the coach arrived at Ruark’s house. “Give me credit for not bringing the one with the ducal crest.”
“I’m a companion, not a chaperone,” Prudence said with a slight frown.
“I know, and I appreciate you accompanying me despite being against my coming here.” She looked up at the charming façade of Ruark’s house on George Street and imagined living here. It was surprisingly easy. She smiled.
“How could I refuse when I knew you’d come anyway. Or when you smile like that,” Prudence added softly.
Cassandra cast her an excited glance before climbing out of the coach. She strode up to the front door and didn’t even need to knock before it opened.
“Good afternoon.” She addressed the butler with a nod. “Please tell Lord Wexford that Lady Cassandra is here to see him.”
The butler possessed a round, plump face that made him appear younger than he likely was. He looked a bit flummoxed, likely because it was highly irregular—not to mention improper—for a lady to pay a call on a gentleman. “I’m sorry, but he is not at home.”
Though she’d expected that response, she was still disappointed and blurted, “Where is he?” She was desperate to see him.
“Er, I don’t think it’s my place to say.” Pink bloomed in his cheeks.
“Please tell me?” She pushed past him and moved into the entry hall. “I won’t leave until you do.”
“Do what?” Ruark’s mother bustled into the hall.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Shaughnessy. I’m looking for Ruark.” Cassandra stepped toward her, uncaring if her anxiousness shone in her face. “Do you know where he is?”
His mother’s blue eyes took on a hopeful glimmer. “Are you the woman Ruark’s in love with?”
