Page 33 of Earl for the Summer
“Thisisreckless,” Ivy whispered, pulling her cloak tighter.
“I know,” said Daphne quietly, “but I refuse to let him vanish without telling me why.”
They’d already planned to seek a hansom in the next street over, which would be busier at this hour. Daphne gave her younger sister a nod, they clasped hands, and then they rushed along the pavement until they were fully out of view of Edgerton House.
The fire had burned down,but Cassian continued to stare at the ashes, twisting a long-ago drained brandy snifter in his hand. Though he wasn’t truly seeing anything in Julian’s elegant bedchamber at Windham House.
Images of Daphne filled his mind’s eye. Her fierce stare the night he met her. Her soft smile as she lovingly examined everysingle specimen she passed at Kew Garden. The way she’d closed her eyes for a moment when he’d held her in his arms, as if she savored it as much as he had. Then the heat in her gaze after their kiss, followed by hurt and fury when she told him to leave.
He could still detect the light scent of her jasmine perfume on his skin. He’d never forget that scent, or the kiss they’d shared, or the fleeting moment when they’d touched each other as if they could belong to one another.
What a fool he’d been. No, worse than a fool. He’d been a scoundrel to abuse her trust. No better than that blighter, Moreland.
Somewhere in the house, he heard the clip of a servant’s footsteps, though he’d thought all of them had gone to bed at this hour.
A few moments later, footsteps sounded outside his bedchamber door.
Cassian stood and strode over to a footman on the other side.
“Callers to see you, Captain. MissCamelliaand her sister.” The young man looked a bit beleaguered and had no doubt been roused from sleep.
“Thank you, Jacobs.”
Cassian brushed past the young man and started toward the stairs, then stopped at the top and shoved a hand through his hair. His clothes were rumpled, he’d consumed too much brandy, and he likely looked like hell.
But for some mad reason, she was here.
He took the stairs quickly and heard the sisters conversing quietly in the front drawing room. When he pushed the door open, they both turned to face him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, even though the sight of her made him feel as if some part of him had come alive again.
“I need answers from you,” Daphne said, her tone firm.
“And she deserves them,” her sister added, hands perched on her hips.
“I agree.” Though he didn’t feel entirely worthy of being given such a chance.
“Then explain yourself to her, Captain Rourke.” Ivy Bridewell turned one weighted glance toward her sister. “I’ll wait in the hall.”
As she glided past him, Cassian turned his head. “The library’s across the hall, one door down, in case you find that preferable to the hall.”
“Obliged, Captain.” She arched one dark brow at him, and her eyes held an unmistakable warning. “See that you do not upset my sister.”
“Understood.”
After Ivy departed, he and Daphne stared at each other. She broke the moment first, tipping her head and gesturing at the two settees facing each other across a low table.
“Shall we sit?”
The distance was probably wise, though of course it wasn’t what he wanted. Even after hours of self-recrimination and self-loathing, he wanted nothing more than to reach for her.
Once they were both seated, she squared her gaze on him.
“Why did you lie to everyone?”
He searched her eyes and detected none of the pain she’d let him see hours ago. She was in control now, pushing feelings away. Just like he tried to do.
“First…” His tongue felt thick, whether from the brandy he’d consumed or shame, he wasn’t sure. “I am sorry for lying to you. I?—”
