A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(44)

“Cass, this will be a difficult interview. Your father is very angry.”

Cass. His Cass. The nickname now sang through her.

“My father is always angry at the Yorks. It is part of who he believes he is. Truly, Soren, he is not a bad man. But he is a fighter. He needs something to push against, and right now, that is more me than it is you. He’s angry that I did not obey him. He feels I betrayed him.”

“All the more reason for you to stay here.”

“I’m not a coward. And if I avoid him, we will never reconcile. No, I must go. I also have some things to collect at the house. All I have to wear is what is in my valise. I need my books and clothing.” And the rest of her jewelry. She had a set of sapphires that matched her garnets in size. They were truly beautiful and very precious. “Where will I have it all sent?”

“I suppose to Pentreath.”

“I’m not going there,” she reminded him.

“Eventually you will. It is our family seat.”

“You told me we would live in London.”

He looked at her as if she was a child.

“Do you not remember?” she prodded.

“Yes.”

Cassandra reached for her gloves and began pulling them on. “Then I don’t want my things sent to Cornwall.”

“Except right now, we don’t have a house in London.”

“We will purchase one.”

He picked up her hat and offered it to her, a sign he agreed she would accompany him. “If we can,” he said. “It would be nice.” He set his hat on his head.

“When we were in the coach, you didn’t offer any objections.”

“I’m not about to discuss anything of this nature in front of others. Especially Bainhurst. And to be honest, Cassandra, I know you are to inherit your mother’s fortune at marriage, but I don’t know how much that is.”

“Forty thousand pounds.”

Soren appeared to choke. “Forty thousand pounds?” he repeated as if uncertain he’d heard correctly. “Forty?”

“Are you displeased?”

“I’m overjoyed,” he said. “That is an incredible fortune. You are certain of the amount?”

“Of course, I am.” In fact, she was a bit annoyed at the question. “When I was sixteen, my grandfather’s solicitor, Mr. Calder, called upon me and Father. He insisted on telling me the terms of my grandfather’s will. The money that would have gone to my mother is to come to me when I marry. In fact, my father had not yet given me my mother’s jewelry, like these pearls, and Mr. Calder insisted he do so in his presence because those should have been mine outright.”

Soren took a moment to digest this information, his brow concerned. “Had your grandfather recently passed?”

“Oh, no, he’d been dead for a few years. He died when I was fourteen.”

“Who had charge of the money?”

“My father.”

“Has he kept your money separate?”

Cassandra frowned. “From what?”

“From his.”

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Something mentioned at Mayfield.”

“There was talk of my money at the dowager’s party?” She didn’t how she felt about that. “Who would be so crass?”

Instead of answering, he said, “Do you think your father would spend your money?”

“Of course. He spent it on me and my needs. When my stepsisters married, he told me he used some of the money for their dowries.”

“Were you all right with that?”

“Yes, Soren. Why would I not be? He gave them five thousand pounds apiece.”

“Five thousand?” he repeated as if dumbstruck by the number.

“He called it my wedding gift to them.”

“A generous wedding gift is fifty pounds.”

She tried not to bristle at the implied criticism. Should she have questioned the amount? It had not seemed to matter back then. “They needed it. They are older than I am . . . and their prospects were not good.” They had actually been terrible. Her stepsisters did not have good manners. In fact, calling them surly was not unkind.

“I imagine once it was put out they had dowries of five thousand pounds their prospects improved.”

That had been true. Cassandra had never thought of it that way before. Still . . .

“I have plenty of money. Thirty thousand pounds is a goodly sum. My father has even invested a portion of my inheritance. He’s told me that several times.”

“What sort of investments?”

She did not like the way his brow furrowed as if there might be a problem. “Good ones,” she answered, although she actually didn’t know any of the details. Soren’s questions were making her uncomfortable. “There will be enough for us to live on. Even to purchase a London home.” After all, everyone knew she was an heiress.

“Come,” she said, heading for the door. “Let us call on Father and he can explain everything to you.”

“Very well.” Soren opened the door. “I should warn you, we will be walking.”

So that was it. He wished they could take a hack. She smiled her reassurance. “Soren, everything will soon be better. We may walk to Papa’s house but we’ll ride back to the hotel. Besides, I have good walking shoes.” She raised an ankle to show him the kid leather pair she’d put on that morning. “They are the finest ever made. And you had best become used to those words, because from now on, my lord, you are a wealthy man.” She sailed out the door.