“Indeed,” Edward said stiffly. “Would you like your dressing gown, Cassie?”
How often had she shocked or displeased him, she wondered. “Yes, thank you, Edward.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose slowly, for she had begun to feel dizzy of late if she suddenly jumped up. She met Edward’s eyes and felt herself flush with embarrassment. Her swollen breasts strained against the soft muslin shift, and the material had slipped up, revealing her legs. She lowered her eyes as he handed her the dressing gown.
Edward’s eyes fell on her hair, tumbled sensually, full and loose, over her slender shoulders and down her back. He turned away from her, cursing the burgeoning ache in his loins. She had been violently ill and even now looked pale and listless.
“Would you care for tea, Cass?”
“I do not like tea, Edward. I have never liked tea.”
There was bitterness in her voice, and he turned back to her in surprise.
Cassie felt instantly contrite and splayed her hands apologetically in front of her. “Forgive me for my wretched tongue. I would not have you think me a raging termagant.” She rose slowly, shaking her dressing gown over her ankles.
He smiled at her gently. “You are not a termagant, Cass. It was stupid of me to have forgotten.”
Edward followed her awkwardly to the sitting room and watched her seat herself carefully upon the settee. He unfastened his sword. “General Howe was not particularly obliging, Cass. Indeed, I fear there is little chance of his releasing me before summer.”
Cassie drew in her breath, thinking of the ship sailing for England the following week. She watched him nervously as he set his sword precisely upon the table.
“I see,” she said.
“And also,” Edward continued, sitting himself opposite her, “General Clinton ordered me, and you, of course, to a ball Friday evening. He is a boorish, stubborn man, but listens to John Andre. Thus the ball. He hopes, I suppose, to impress the Tories with his generosity and graciousness. It will serve him well, for a little time, at least. I hope you will not mind attending.”
“As Lady Delford?”
“You forget that by Friday you will be Lady Delford.”
God help me, she thought, and said quietly, “I have given the matter much thought, Edward.”
“What matter? I just told you of the blasted ball.”
“The matter of my future and yours. No, please do not interrupt me, for I must say this. I made a terrible mistake in believing that your sentiments, as well as mine, could remain unchanged for so many months. Both of us are not what we were, Edward. And I see now that even if we had not been parted, we are not really suited to each other.”
“What nonsense is this, Cassie?”
She winced at the cold impatience in his voice. She knew it as the tone of an English gentleman when honor and duty were at stake.
“I am giving us back choices, Edward. I have decided that I cannot wed you. I will leave next week for England. I am going home.”
He sat forward, and clasped his lean hands tightly together between his thighs. “I am willing to grant you lapses of reason, Cassie, because of your condition. But if you seriously believe I would ever allow you to journey alone back to Hemphill Hall, unprotected and carrying a bastard child, you sorely mistake my character. If I were to allow such a thing, I would expect Eliott to put a bullet through my gullet.”
She smiled at him sadly. “You cannot always lead your life bound to such unrestrained honor, Edward.”
“Do you forget that if that black-hearted devil had not abducted you we would have wed?”
“But then, Edward, you fancied that you loved me. And the earl, in his own right, believed it too.”
“How can you defend that bastard? By God, Cassie, I begin to think your wits are gone awry. Is it not enough that you carry the man’s child?”
They were arguing senselessly, hurtfully. Cassie wished she could somehow weave her thoughts so that Edward would understand. “We are tearing at each other, Edward, and to no purpose. If I pose you one question, will you reply honestly?”