The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(36)

He bowed to her. “I hope I didn’t startle you again. I seem to have a nasty habit of doing so.”

“No, no, not at all.” She smiled in reply.

“May I?” He gestured to the painting.

Cass’s breath caught in her throat. He wanted to see what she’d painted? Caught off guard, all she could do was nod.

Julian came around behind her and braced his hands on the back of the iron bench. The heat of his large body radiated toward her. She could smell his scent, his usual mix of soap and the barest hint of that cologne that made her senses tingle. He tilted his head, staring at the painting. “Excellent.”

A small sliver of pride shot through her. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“The color is perfect. Did you mix it yourself?” He sounded truly interested in her work.

“Yes. It’s something I like to do.”

“My sister has been known to paint. I don’t think she’s nearly as accomplished, however.”

Cass concentrated on wiping the paint from her fingers with a bit of linen. “Daphne?”

“Yes. You didn’t say. Have you ever met her?”

Cass kept her eyes trained on her hands. Cass would be a complete cake to pretend she didn’t know Daphne. But Patience Bunbury didn’t know her. “I’m not certain I’ve had the pleasure, Captain.” Liar. Liar. Liar.

He laughed softly at that. “If you’d met Daphne, I’ve a feeling you’d remember her, Miss Bunbury. I love her dearly but my sister is a bit—shall I say—unconventional?”

Now that was true, though Cass had always greatly enjoyed Daphne’s company. One never knew quite what one might hear when Daphne was about. She was unexpected in that way, very much like Lucy. Cass searched for something to say that would not involve more lies. “I’m certain your sister is lovely and accomplished, Captain.”

He glanced back at the painting and pointed a finger. “You paint nearly as well as my friend,” he continued. “In fact, this reminds me of her work.”

Cass mentally cursed herself. She was an idiot. Why had she let him see her painting? She’d sent him paintings before, small bits of watercolors she’d created over the years, drawings. Anything to cheer him, anything that could be neatly folded and included in her letters to him. He’d seen her hand before. She stared up at him, her heart lodged in her throat. Had he guessed? It was an innocuous painting of an orchid but it wouldn’t take much to know the lines, the texture.

“Who?” she asked, holding her breath. He’d had to have received her letter—Cass’s letter—by now and read it. But he wouldn’t mention it to Patience Bunbury. No, of course not.

Julian stared at the painting for a few more moments, then he shook himself. “It doesn’t matter. I came here to ask for your help, actually.”

She pointed at herself. “My help?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“How could I ever be of help to you, Captain Swift?” She glanced away. Perhaps I could begin by telling you the truth.

He straightened up and came around to the front of the bench to face her. “I must find Penelope as soon as possible.”

“I know.” She could not look at him.

“I was hoping you’d attempt to write to her, to ask her when she intends to arrive.”

Cass’s mouth fell open. “Oh, I couldn’t. I … I wouldn’t know where to begin. I don’t know how I’d get a letter to Penelope. She’s traveling.”

“Yes, I know that, but I thought perhaps you might know where she is. You mentioned that she was stopping to see friends. Do you know where? Which friends she might be visiting?”

Cass dabbed her handkerchief to her forehead. Was it hot in the conservatory all of a sudden? A stabbing headache had begun behind her right eye. “I’m not certain. I—”

“Please, won’t you help me, Miss Bunbury? It’s imperative I speak to Penelope as soon as possible. I’m out of options.”

Cass wanted to die. Here was Julian, begging for her help. Not only could she not help him, she would be deceiving him even more if she allowed him to think that she could. But she also couldn’t say no to him. She cleared her throat. “I’ll see what I can do, Captain Swift.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Julian strode away and Cass busily set about putting away her painting supplies. Julian wanted her help in finding Penelope as soon as possible? Cass had to find Lucy. It was time to end this farce.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Five minutes later, Cass spotted Lucy in the blue drawing room. She and Jane sat across from each other, Jane with a book in her lap, Lucy sipping tea and perusing one of her ever-present lists.

Lucy glanced up as soon as Cass came into the room. “Ah, Cass, there you are. Sit down. Jane was just telling me something I do not want to hear. You might as well hear it, too.”

Cass made her way over to the settee and took a seat. “There’s something I must tell you, also,” Cass insisted.

“Let Jane tell us her news first,” Lucy replied. “It’s about Garrett.”

Garrett? Was Garrett coming? Cass’s plan to tell Lucy they must tell the truth could wait a moment. She nodded her assent.