Page 18 of Earl for the Summer
“I have nothing to say to you,” she managed to bite out, though every muscle in her body had gone tight, and her heart thrashed wildly in her chest.
All she could think about was getting through the doorway he blocked with his body.
“But I have much to say to you, Daphne. No.” He shook his head. “What I must say won’t take long at all, though I’d like to talk with you at length, if you’ll let me.”
“I won’t let you. Step aside.”
He shifted so that he stood squarely in the doorframe and lifted his hands, palms out. “Please, Miss Bridewell. Indulge me while I apologize.”
Daphne glanced to the bank of windows at her right, considering whether to open one and climb out.
“You’d throw yourself from a window to escape me?”
“Yes.” Daphne faced him, then took a step toward him. “If there is a shred of gentlemanly honor left in you, step aside, Mr. Moreland. I wish to leave and do not care to hear anything you have to say.”
As Cassian led Miss Truscott,he had to concentrate to remember each step.
The young woman offered him a smile a few times but seemed to be concentrating as fiercely as he was, looking down at her feet a few times as if doubtful they’d follow the right pattern.
“I appreciate this, my lord,” she whispered as the dance wound down.
“I thank you for dancing with me, Miss Truscott.”
She blushed at that. “I’d almost forgotten how to dance.”
“You can surely tell I feel the same.”
They both chuckled, then the music drew to a close. He bowed to her, then escorted her off the floor.
Scanning ahead for the lady who’d inspired this mission to assist a wallflower, Cassian found she wasn’t there. A moment ago, she’d been standing beside the line of other debutantes, and now she’d disappeared.
“Thank you again, Miss Truscott,” he told his dance partner, then immediately slipped from the ballroom.
Perhaps it was folly to seek her out, but he was beyond propriety where Miss Bridewell was concerned. For the first time in a long while, impulse drove him, though it felt suspiciously like need.
He searched the rooms set aside for guests and interrupted a tryst in progress, though Miss Bridewell was not one of the participants. The relief of that was more than he had any right to.
Then he heard the muffled sound of raised voices—a man and a woman—and picked up his pace.
“Get away from me.”Daphne.
At the thread of fear in tone, Cassian balled his hands into fists and rushed toward the door at the same moment a man roared with pain.
Cassian slammed the door open, colliding with Daphne as she rushed across the threshold.
Like the time they’d stumbled into each other the night he’d met her, he held her a moment too long. This time, she didn’t look wary or offended. She let out a sigh as if relieved.
“Windham, I…kicked him.” Her hand remained clutched against his sleeve as the man behind her straightened and approached.
“Daphne—”
“Get out. Now.” Cassian stepped away from the threshold to allow the man space. Miss Bridewell did the same, retreating farther inside the library. He only regretted that it forced them to let go of each other.
Cassian gave the man only seconds to comply before lunging, grabbing the bastard by the shoulder, and wrenching him through the library door. He kept hold of his lapel, then slid his hand up to grasp the man’s throat. Old instincts welled up. Everything in him wanted to strike hard, draw blood, damage the man who’d dared to impose himself on her.
Instead, he shoved hard, nearly knocking the bastard off his feet.
“What the bloody hell, Windham?”
