Page 20 of Earl for the Summer
She hesitated.
“If you don’t wish to divulge more, I understand.” The lady had no reason to confide in him. And, of course, he didn’t deserve her trust.
“For some reason, I find that I want to.” Her eyes fixed on his. “Though I’d beg you to never speak of it to anyone.”
“Of course. You have my word.”
She licked her lips and drew her brows together. “I did encourage him once. Not tonight, but not so long ago either.” Dipping her head, she studied the carpet under their feet. “He was charming.”
Head tipped up, she gave him a look that saidlike you. But, of course, she would be thinking of the man she believed him to be.
“I was ridiculously smitten.” The admission caused her to swallow hard.
A rogue flare of jealousy welled up in Cassian—a nonsensical feeling. She was not his and never could be.
“I was reckless,” she said more softly.
Cassian took a step closer. “He did not deserve your affection, Miss Bridewell, but you cannot berate yourself for your feelings.”
“Can I not?” Her eyes glittered with emotion. “I should have been discerning. Less trusting. Less naive. I came into the Season so hopeful for romance that I fell for the first man to show me a scrap of attention. Now that my wits once failed me so entirely, I don’t trust myself at all.”
“Hopefulness and innocence aren’t failings,” Cassian insisted. “Treachery is.”
Good God, had he ever been more of a hypocrite in his life? Part of him wanted to warn her that she should not trusthim. A greater part of him wanted to confess everything because he ached to be a man she could trust.
She seemed to mull his words. “Well, at least I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never again be such a fool. And I mean to warn every lady I know about men like Moreland.”
“Men were deceivers ever.” Cassian winced. The Bard’s wisdom rarely failed.
Her eyes, still glossy, lit with bit of amusement. “Mr. Shakespeare’s wisdom does seem instructive here.” After letting out a sigh, she added, “Which is why I shouldn’t have agreed to assist you.” She shook her head as if to emphasize how much she regretted it.
“I shouldn’t have asked you. I only wanted to…” Cassian caught himself, but the truth was all but clawing its way up this throat.
“To what?”
“To get a lady’s perspective on the whole matter.Yourperspective.”
Their gazes held a moment too long.
“You may not be who I thought you were, but you do seem sincere.”
He gritted his teeth. All this talk of treachery and sincerity had his gut in knots. He wanted to tell her…
What? That it washercompany he craved? That she was the only one he wanted in his arms for each dance he stumbled through?
He hadn’t ever properly courted a woman. Hadn’t ever had cause to consider it. The navy had been his life and succeeding in his profession had consumed all his time, but for a handful of dalliances.
Julian was the one for whom marriage was a necessity, so Cassian had never given much thought to it himself. Now, he had nothing to offer a lady like Miss Daphne Bridewell. Hell, she didn’t even know his name. She was lovely, kind, protective, loyal. She deserved to be courted properly. To be loved deeply. To be adored.
There was only a fortnight left in the Season, but he needed the ruse to end. Lying to everyone and tormenting himself with this impossible attraction to a young woman who’d already been ill-treated by a deceptive man? No.
He’d go back to Scotland. He would leave things cordial with Lady Selina, leaving no doubt of his—Julian’s—interest, and then his brother could write to her of his intentions once Cassian left London.
He’d send a telegram to Julian and tell him as much first thing in the morning.
“We should return to the ballroom,” she said quietly. She’d been watching him while he’d been lost in thought. “But we should go separately.”
“Of course.” Cassian understood propriety even if he’d rarely had cause to adhere to its rules. “Why don’t you precede me? I’ll wait a while and then return too.”
