Edward said with deliberate coolness, “Suffice it to say, Cass, that warfare and military life did not bear much resemblance to the exploits I dreamed of as a boy. There is never much satisfaction in dispatching another fellow human to his Maker. Now, Cass, what of you? Have you been a sad trial to Miss Petersham?”
She accepted his rebuff, though it hurt her to think that he would likely never tell her much of his military years. She replied easily, “Not really. For the most part, I have been as circumspect as even you would wish, Edward, though I still sail and swim as often as possible. I daresay that our parties and dinners hardly made fascinating reading for you.”
“You are quite wrong. Your letters always reminded me of what was really important to me. What did Miss Petersham think of your writing to me?”
She had been frowning thoughtfully over his words, but at the mention of her companion, her eyes twinkled. “Poor Becky. We are quite close, you know, except in matters that concern you. Eliott and I discussed it most thoroughly and decided that in the case of our letters, it would be best to commit a sin of omission. She never found out.”
“Then I daresay that she will not welcome me with open arms.”
“True, but Eliott is my guardian and she can hardly turn you away. She will come about, you will see. I fear though that she will be excessively disappointed that we will not be going to London. I fancy she expected me to snare a royal duke.”
“You and one of the fat German dukes. Good lord.” He squeezed her hand. “Come, Cass, let us get my mare, and I shall escort you back to the hall.”
He felt her fingers close over his and saw that she was looking up at him, a disturbing smile on her lips.
“Before we go, Edward, I would that you kiss me again. I have never been kissed before and I must own that I like it a lot.”
He leaned down and kissed her lightly on her closed lips.
She stared up at him doggedly. “That is not at all how you kissed me the first time.” She added hesitantly, “I like the other things you did—with your hands.”
He stood stiffly before her, trying to still the twisting desire in his loins. “Cass, it is not proper.”
“But why, Edward? Did you not come back to be my husband?”
“No—yes. Dammit, I have not yet spoken to Eliott. And as much as you scoff at the idea, there is your Season in London.”
One thick-arched brow flared upward. “Season in London? Come, Edward, I was but jesting. Now that you are returned, everything has changed. I shall have no duke, not even a royal one.”
“It is important, Cassie,” he said heavily. “You have been sheltered. It would not be fair of me to prevent you from meeting other gentlemen. Don’t you understand? You may meet someone else whom you would prefer to wed.”
Cassie raised her chin in a proud, stubborn gesture that he remembered well. “I admit that I am young and not much experienced. But I am not a fool, Edward, nor am I a silly, romantic girl whose mind is filled with maudlin drivel. I have long known that you are the man to suit me. I beg you not to question my motives or my feelings.”
“You call this place a Garden of Eden, Cass. You know nothing of what lies beyond even Ipswich.”
“Edward, you make it sound as though I have been raised in a convent. You know that Becky needled Eliott the moment I turned seventeen to let me put my hair up and entertain lavishly. I assure you, I have been most feted by many gentlemen, even some from your precious London. I have found them, for the most part, to have very little under their powdered hair save empty, vain heads. Now, I would that you cease this nonsense.”
“Very well, Cass, we shall discuss the matter another time.”
“Edward, if you do not believe me, I shall simply have to seduce you and force you to wed me.”