A Match Made in Bed (Spinster Heiresses #2)(49)

Her words did not reassure him. He appeared stricken, as if he’d failed her in ways that she could not fathom. He did not move toward her, and she thought she understood. There would be a cost to his pride. He had nothing to offer in return, except he had already given her so much. He had been here when she needed him.

Now, she wanted to be a buttress in his life as well.

Mr. Lloyd spoke up, “My lord? Do you wish to discuss this with Mr. Huggett? He might be very interested in the exchange. Those pearls are quite extraordinary. They could clear the debt and then some.”

Still, Soren did not move.

“For our son,” Cassandra urged. “So that he has something to inherit.”

At last, he nodded, as if forcing himself to face what must be done. “I should see my wife to the Pulteney before I speak to Huggett.”

“I can make my own way, Soren,” Cassandra said. They still didn’t have a coin for a hack. “Take care of this matter. Let’s be done with it.”

“I’ll go with her, my lord,” Abby said from the stairs behind her.

Cassandra smiled up at the maid, thankful for her loyalty. “See, all is well. Right and proper,” she assured Soren. “You call on Mr. Huggett and I’ll be waiting for you at the hotel. Don’t let Holwell win.”

It was her last words that moved him. She could see the change. He went from being conflicted to willing to fight with all he had. He kissed her. It was a hasty kiss, one performed in front of others, but it was also a promise.

“I will make this up to you, my lady.”

The wedding vows that she had repeated without any actual understanding echoed in her head. “All I have is yours, my lord.”

He nodded, and then faced Brock and Lloyd. “Let us see Huggett.”

Cassandra watched them go out the door before standing one last moment in the house that had been her home. She looked to the butler. “Why, Bevil, you appear ashamed of yourself, as you should.”

The servant’s response was to duck his head and move down the hall toward the back of the house. He was still carrying the tray with ink and pen.

“Are you ready, Abby?”

“Yes, my lady. Let me fetch my bonnet.”

In a few minutes, the two of them were out the door. It was late afternoon. Once they left the pleasant surroundings of Mayfair, the streets grew busier. Cassandra remembered walking this way with Soren, except she had a different attitude now.

She wasn’t an heiress. She didn’t know quite how she felt about that. The idea of being poor hadn’t completely set in yet. That she was no longer apart from others because of money might not be such a bad thing.

Her father wasn’t her father.

That was a thornier issue.

So, who was the man who had sired her? What sort of character did he have, and was he still alive? Her thoughts went to her mother who had carried a secret that was now the mystery of Cassandra’s life. She reached up reflexively to touch the beloved pearls, and dropped her hand to her side when she was met with empty space.

She considered Soren and her deepening feelings for him. Had her mother felt the same way toward her lover? Had Cassandra received her passionate nature? And how could such a wealthy young woman be able to have what must have been a forbidden assignation?

Cassandra had been well chaperoned since she had first been sent out into Society. The Bingham Heiress would have been far more valuable than the Holwell Heiress—so why hadn’t her grandfather been more vigilant?

“If he had, I wouldn’t be here.”

Cassandra didn’t realize she had spoken aloud until Abby said, “I beg your pardon, my lady?”

“I was thinking.”

Abby nodded. This was not the first time Cassandra had become lost in her own thoughts.

She looked to the maid. “Losing the sapphires is sad, but I will miss the books.”

“I knew you would, my lady.”

They had reached the Pulteney. Cassandra was exhausted. Today had been one of highs and terrible lows. Her legs hurt from the unaccustomed exercise, and yet it had helped her frantic thoughts to walk.

At this time of the day, the Pulteney was extremely busy. Cassandra faced the maid. “I had thought to ask if you’d like to be in my employ. I would still like to do so, although I’m uncertain of our circumstances. Perhaps once my lord and I are settled, we can discuss the matter?”

Abby blushed and bobbed a curtsey. “Thank you, my lady. I understand. I’ve seen difficult times myself.”

Difficult times. Cassandra had never known one second when she had to fend for herself. She’d read about hardships and had heard lectures in church concerning them. She’d always assumed that she’d have the moral character to face them . . . but she hadn’t truly thought she would ever do so.

“With the state my father—”

Cassandra stopped. “My father,” didn’t sound right. She tried again, “With the state your employer is in, I doubt he will welcome you back after you walked out the door with me.”

“I know that Mr. Holwell will not keep me in his employ,” Abby assured her. “I knew that when he took your dresses away to sell. Don’t worry about me. My aunt works for the Duchess of Bedford and there is a position in that household. I hadn’t accepted it because I have enjoyed working for you.”