The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(71)

He skipped another stone, still staring out ahead across the water. “I suppose it’s not something you write in a letter, even to a friend.”

She searched his profile. “What isn’t?”

His gaze searched the horizon. “That one day, when you were fourteen, your father told you that you were unnecessary.”

Cass sucked in her breath. “He did not!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Cass touched his arm. He didn’t look at her. “It matters. Very much. To me,” she said. “Please tell me he didn’t say that.”

Julian hefted another stone in his hand. “He used that exact word actually, unnecessary. By the time I was fourteen, Donald had already come of age. He’d survived childhood. He was ready to take over one day. I was no longer needed.”

Cass pressed a hand against her thumping heart. “What sort of a monster would say that to a young boy?”

Julian turned to face her. “What sort of a monster would tell a young girl that she is only as good as the man who will marry her?”

“Mother said something like that to me once,” she murmured. “Specifically, she said, ‘It doesn’t matter what a man feels about you, Cassandra, it only matters whether he will marry you.’ And I set about becoming the perfect future wife, all in an effort to win my parents’ approval and love.” She sighed. “But my parents don’t love me. Not really. I’m nothing more than a prize possession to them.”

Julian’s voice was soft. “I know. You told me in one of your letters. I’m sorry, Cassie.”

“I told you?” She searched the ground for a stone, desperately thinking of a way to turn the subject from herself.

“Yes.”

“It’s funny. I’d memorized everything you wrote to me,” she said softly. “I didn’t memorize what I wrote to you.”

He jerked his head sharply to the side, a strange look on his face. “You memorized my letters?”

She blushed and bent down to get a closer look at the stones. She pushed some wet leaves away. “I know you have a scar on the underside of your chin because your first horse threw you when you were six years old.”

He rubbed his chin. “That hurt. Scraped it against a rock.”

She scooped up a stone and made her way tentatively to the water’s edge. “I know that you were once beaten by a group of boys at Eton because you were the only one who defended a new student who’d just arrived and was frightened.”

He eyed her askance. “I never said I was the only one.”

She smiled. “You didn’t have to. I could tell. You were the only one, weren’t you?”

He folded his hands behind his back, looked down at the tips of his boots, and nodded. “Poor bastard,” he whispered.

“And I know that you once gave Daphne your entire savings of spending money because she wanted to purchase a puppy that was being sorely treated by its owners.”

He cracked a smile. “Daphne can be quite convincing.”

“You’re quite a nice brother,” Cass said. She tried to skip her stone. It plopped into the water unsuccessfully.

“Owen wouldn’t do that for you?” he asked.

“Oh, Owen’s always been perfectly nice to me, but he was much more interested in riding and hunting and boyish pursuits. He never took much of an interest in his younger sister. Though when Lucy used to visit she always tried to get him to play with her. He wanted no part of it, of course.”

“So she played with you, instead?”

“I’m afraid it was her only choice.” Cass tossed another pebble into the lake, an even more dismal attempt at skipping than the last.

Julian walked over to her and handed her another stone, heat transferring from his hand to hers. “Let me show you,” he said, turning her and pulling her into the recess of his arms. Cass closed her eyes. It felt so good to have his arms around her, his warmth and scent enveloping her. He took her small cold hand in his large one. “Here’s how you do it. First, you must start with the correct stone. See how this one is flat?”

She glanced down at the rock in her hand. It was indeed flat. She somehow managed to nod.

He nudged her finger to the top of the stone and moved her thumb to the side. “Fling your wrist, like this. Try to keep that angle.” He demonstrated the correct flip of the wrist.

Cass tried it, flinging the rock out onto the lake. The stone skipped once, twice, three times before sinking beneath the flat surface of the water.

“I did it!” She turned in his arms, a wide smile on her face, then pulled away abruptly when she realized how close they still were. She backed up quickly, putting several paces between them.

He shook his head and seemed to study the ground for more suitable stones. “You know, I remember your letters, too,” he said quietly. “Let’s see if I can refresh your memory about what you wrote to me.”

Cass blushed and glanced down. She pushed her slipper through a small pile of leaves.

Julian folded his hands behind his back. “I know you make it your business to befriend anyone whom no one else will befriend. You’re not close with Lucy and Jane for no reason.”

“I love them,” she admitted. “Even Lucy, when I don’t want to kill her, that is.”