Page 79 of From Duke Till Dawn
“It’s not to be missed,” the older woman agreed.
“I most energetically concur, Lady Massey.” Cassandra nodded enthusiastically. “Nowhere presents itself as well as London in the spring. The most notable personages gather here.” She smiled, as if to say,Including yourselves.
Both Lord and Lady Massey grinned and chuckled.
Again, Alex could only marvel at her ease with the couple. He wasn’t nearly as deft when talking with strangers.
“Have you been to Astley’s?” Lord Massey asked. “And there’s the theater, of course. One can’t miss the theater.”
“I’m especially fond of the works of Lady Marwood,” Cassandra said. “So full of poetry and color.”
“She’s my favorite, too!” Lady Massey exclaimed. She clasped Cassandra’s hand in hers. “Oh, do say you’ll accompany us to the Imperial while you are in town.”
Alex quickly began thinking of excuses, but before he could, Cassandra spoke.
“Much as I would adore the opportunity, I’m afraid that my time in London is very limited.”
She looked rueful, and the couple appeared crestfallen.
“But I will see if I can find the time in my schedule for an outing,” Cassandra amended.
“Excellent,” Lord Massey said, beaming. He wagged a finger at Alex. “You’ve been remiss, Your Grace, by keeping Mrs. Blair all to yourself.”
“I think he’s being perfectly romantic.” Lady Massey sniffed before Alex could defend himself. “He deserves it, too, after...” She gave Lord Massey a meaningful look.
Hell, Alex had completely forgotten about his failed suit of Lady Emmeline. But thetonhadn’t let the memory of her slip away.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Alex said, guiding Cassandra away. When they were out of earshot of the couple, he said lowly, “It’s a gift you have.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Charming people. No one can resist you.”
“I can think of one person who grew immune to my charisma.” She eyed him meaningfully.
“Not so immune.” He gazed at her with heat. “I’ve caught a fever. You’re both the cause and the cure.”
Though she was a master at hiding her emotions, he’d learned the subtle shifting of her expression, and saw fear warring with hope in her face. Then she was sardonic and said, “You’ll recover soon enough.”
“Is that your desire?” He would not let her evade him.
She glanced around at the people ebbing and flowing around them. Some looked with curiosity at the sight they presented: a couple having a serious discussion in public. Such displays weren’t condoned by polite Society, and were preferred to be conducted in the security and privacy of home.
“A duke must always comport himself in public with the utmost decorum,” his father once said to Alex. “It is to him that others look for guidance and instruction.”
Alex didn’t care. He and Cassandra had danced around their feelings for each other, yet he demanded more than possibility and potential. He wanted certainty. What they were to each other. The parameters and constraints of their association. He needed to know when, exactly, she planned to disappear—if only to prepare himself for the inevitable pain. He believed, hoped, that if he knew precisely the time he had left with her, he could be better prepared for her absence.
She turned her face away from him, seemingly interested in the display of gowns and fripperies in the dressmaker’s window. “We’ll speak of my desire another time.”
Alex had just begun to argue when someone slammed into him from behind. Stumbling, he avoided hitting Cassandra, who reached out to help him. Alex righted himself and turned to berate whomever had clumsily barreled into him.
He faced a thickset man in laborer’s clothes. Before he could angrily rebuke the man, the stranger started yelling.
“What the bloody hell do you mean,” he bawled, “banging into me like that! You think you own the damn sidewalk, do you, fancy fellow?”
“See here,” Alex growled, “you ran into me.”
“Ain’t taking responsibility for yourself, eh? Fine, indeed.”
