The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(30)
Cass put up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m only jesting, Jane. Please. Please try. I’ll have Lucy’s coach put to for you. Go over there, visit him, see what he’s up to. Try to find out if he truly intends to come over here. Oh, and ask him to convince Owen to stay away, too, if you please.”
Jane breathed hard through her teeth. “If I go over there, I’m going to confess to everything and bribe him to keep silent. I am much more comfortable with a direct approach.”
Lucy scooped up the menu again, and Cass smiled and patted Jane’s hand. “Sounds divine. Use whatever means of persuasion you must.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cass hugged her shawl close to her shoulders and popped open the French doors that led to the terrace. She had to get away from the group of partygoers in the house. It was a beautiful autumn evening. A bit of a chill hung in the air but the stars twinkled overhead like a row of diamonds in the black velvet sky. The smell of freshly fallen leaves whispered through the wind.
Cass glanced back into the brightly lit house. It was all so unreal. Like being trapped in a play. Everyone was calling her Miss Bunbury. She’d nearly begun to believe that was her name. With every mention of the false name, all she could think about was how she was a liar. She had to get out of there, and just breathe.
She strolled out into the night and gazed up at the stars. Then she followed a few of the stone steps down into the gardens. There were candles there, sprinkled throughout the pebbled pathways. Cass made her way to her favorite stone bench and sat down. She leaned back and took a deep breath, and then another. In addition to the leaves, the crisp air smelled of burning logs. The light wind ruffled the curls at her temples.
She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined … How would everything be in two weeks’ time? Surely, this entire farce would be over by then. Would Julian and Pen be planning their wedding? Would Julian hate Cass for her duplicity? She shook her head and took another deep breath.
“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The deep male voice wafted on the cool breeze.
Cass started, and her eyes flew open, but she already knew who it was. She’d memorized his voice. Julian was standing there, not ten paces away, crushing out a cheroot beneath his boot.
“Oh, no, Ju … Captain Swift, not at all.”
He strode closer. The candlelight highlighted the deep planes of his cheeks, glinted off his steely gray eyes. “May I?” He gestured to the bench.
Cass gulped. “Of course.”
He slid onto the bench next to her, bracing his palms on the cold stone. The warmth of his body so near her own sent a shiver down her spine. There was that scent again, too, clean and strong and … Julian.
“Enjoying this fine weather?” he asked, shaking her from her thoughts. And just as well. Surely, he’d be suspicious if he found Miss Patience Bunbury sniffing at his coat, not that she hadn’t considered it.
Cass straightened her shoulders and pulled her shawl tight. “Yes. I felt it was entirely too warm in the house just now. I do so love the outdoors.”
“I do, too,” Julian said. “Especially in the country. I’ve been waiting years to sit outside at night like this in the English countryside.”
Cass nodded. I know. He’d mentioned it in his letters. She’d memorized them, knew each of them by heart. “My fondest dream is to sit under the stars in the country, breathe the fresh air, and not worry about death and destruction and war.” That particular bit had been in a letter he’d written to her perhaps two years ago. It had been winter.
“The war must’ve been awful for you,” she ventured. Of course it had been awful for him. Cass knew that. But Patience didn’t. Or would she guess? Excellent. Patience is a nitwit.
Julian pulled his hands from the bench, braced them on his knees, and stared off into the darkened hedges. “I was one of the fortunate ones.”
Cass swallowed. It still hurt to think about how close he’d come to never returning. “Because you lived?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper.
“Yes, because I came back.” He paused for a moment, closed his eyes, breathed the night air. “It was not my plan.”
Cass wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?” It was not his plan? He’d never mentioned anything like that in his letters.
He opened his eyes again and shook his head. He smiled slightly but it was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The one he used in ballrooms and public places where people asked him too many questions. She hated that he was using it with her. “Ah, much too grim a subject for such a festive night,” he said.
“Tell me something else about yourself then,” she said. She’d originally asked because Miss Bunbury wouldn’t know, but the answer surprised her. What else didn’t she know about Julian?
He grinned. “I’m rubbish at cards, you’ve already borne witness to my poor dancing skills, and I am the kingdom’s most unenthusiastic hunter.”
Cass blinked at him. “I didn’t know that you’re rubbish at cards.”
He frowned.
“I mean … I … it surprises me, that’s all. I thought you might have played during the war. With your men, I mean.”
“The officers played, that’s true, quite a lot. But I can hardly claim I won much. It was fortunate that we never played for anything valuable. Against rules, you know.”