The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(20)

No. Cass wasn’t a liar, but would Julian see it that way when the truth was revealed?

Oh, she supposed she had lied before, but only when the circumstances truly merited it. Like last summer when she’d told Lucy she was sick with a head cold. She hadn’t been sick at all. She’d done it in order to keep Lucy and the duke in each other’s company when it was clear to everyone they were meant to be together and were both just being typically stubborn about getting around to acknowledging that fact. Why, if Cass hadn’t told that little fib, Lucy might still be on the shelf. Wasn’t that a lie for a good reason?

Cass sighed. It wasn’t just the lying, though. There was something else to consider: the fact that Julian would no doubt eventually be interested in greeting his old friend Cassandra. No. Regardless of Lucy’s confidence, it was absolutely not going to end well. There was no doubt about it. But Cass could pretend. She could act for a sennight. She had little choice. She’d already started down this twisty path … with a giant shove from Her Grace, Lucy Hunt.

Lucy stopped at the entrance to Cass’s bedchamber and leaned inside. “The butler tells me Captain Swift’s coach is on its way up the drive.”

Cass froze. She pressed a hand to her belly and breathed deeply. “He’s here?”

Lucy nodded, her dark curls bobbing against her cheeks. “Yes. Come with me to greet him?” She held out a hand to Cass.

Cass nodded woodenly. She stood and made her way over to her friend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, dear,” Lucy said. She kept holding her hand as they made their way down the stairs, across the marble foyer, and out onto the gravel in front of the house.

Cass concentrated on breathing normally the entire way. Julian was here. Julian. But she couldn’t talk to him the same way she would if she were Cass. She couldn’t refer to any of the things she knew about him. She couldn’t tell him she remembered how hard he’d worked to earn the respect of his men. She couldn’t tell him she knew he’d nearly died of thirst in a desert in Spain. She couldn’t tell him she understood why he hated confined spaces after spending night after night in a tent. She couldn’t say any of the things she wanted to say to him. She had to feign complete ignorance. Could she do it? Lucy had warned her to say as little as possible about anything in the past. Did she have it in her? Was she even capable of such subterfuge?

Had Julian already been looking for her as Cass? Had he gone to her parents’ house to try to visit her and found her missing? Oh, the web they’d spun was already too tangled to sort through. Instead, Cass pasted a smile on her face as the coach rolled to a stop in front of the manor house.

Very well. Enough worrying. Cassandra Monroe was a worrier. Patience Bunbury was decidedly not.

One of the footmen hopped down and opened the door to the coach. Julian emerged soon after, looking like the blond Adonis he was. This time, he wasn’t wearing his uniform. Instead, he had on a simple white shirt, cravat, emerald-green waistcoat, dark gray trousers, and black top boots and hat. He seemed every bit a handsome member of the ton on holiday, no longer the injured army captain. Cass swallowed hard. It didn’t matter. The man looked good either way.

He smiled brightly when he saw the two ladies waiting for him. Cass’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he smiled like that, as if he was holding something—just a bit of himself—back. He strode forward, and she let out her breath. He didn’t have any other outward signs of lingering injury. She’d noticed that at Pen’s house. Now she confirmed it. Cass had prayed about that, over and over. She’d gone to bed more times than she could count reciting prayers for him in a feverish voice until sleep overtook her. Then she usually slept fitfully, plagued with awful nightmares of Julian being shot and bleeding to death or being run through with a bayonet. She usually awoke, sweating, breathing heavily, and sometimes crying. Then she began the praying all over again.

Julian had been shot in the chest. Apparently, the bullet had just missed his heart. Or so the surgeons told him. It had sliced through him and ripped through the back of his coat. He’d been beyond fortunate to live. In fact, it was a miracle that he was standing here, looking handsome and friendly and making Cass’s mouth go dry.

You are Patience. You are Patience. You are Patience. The singsong voice played in her head. Oh, good heavens. This wasn’t going to work for five minutes, let alone a sennight. She braced herself and lifted her skirts to turn and flee, the lavender satin clutched in her fists. Lucy’s hand came out to capture one of hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Lucy knew her so well. Cass let the fabric drop and stood rooted to the spot.

“Good afternoon, Captain Swift.” First, Lucy curtsied to him. Then she swept up her skirts to walk toward him. She stopped in front of him and offered him her hand.

“Lady Worthing, thank you for your kind invitation,” Julian replied, bowing over Lucy’s hand.

“You remember Miss Bunbury?” Lucy asked, motioning for Cass to come stand beside her.

Cass jumped. She’d been so distracted looking at Julian, she’d nearly not heard Lucy’s introduction. Trembling, she made her way slowly over to Lucy’s side and curtsied to Julian.

“Of course. Miss Bunbury.” He bowed over her hand. The warmth of his strong fingers radiating through his glove made Cass forget to breathe.