The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(72)

He nodded. “I know. I also know you are exceedingly clever at sewing, singing, playing the pianoforte, and painting. Especially painting.”

“I’m not proud of any of that. Mother insisted I do it.” Then she smiled softly. “Well, perhaps the painting.”

“You’re quite good at it.”

She glanced away. “Thank you.”

“I still have all of the paintings you sent me. I keep them in my pack.”

She turned her head to look at him. “You kept them? All these years?”

“Yes. I couldn’t keep all the letters, but I kept all the paintings. I used to look at them on days when the skies were gray and thick with smoke and stench.”

Tears burned the back of Cass’s eyes. She turned toward the lake so he couldn’t see.

“I know you love your mother and father despite the fact that they’ve never been good to you,” he said next.

Cass wrapped her arms around her middle. “I wrote that?”

“Not in so many words. I could tell.”

She smiled at the fact that he had echoed her words from a few moments earlier. She stared unseeing across the water. “I always wanted them to love me. They seemed to love Owen just because he was a boy, an heir.”

“Ah, I know all about that.”

Cass stopped and placed her hand on his sleeve. “Julian … I meant what I said in my letter. If Donald doesn’t come back.” She swallowed. “You can do it. You can be the earl. You’re strong enough. You’re good enough.”

Julian clenched his jaw. “Like Upton?”

The words stabbed Cass’s heart. She turned toward the horses, still fighting tears. “We should get back.”

Julian only nodded. They walked slowly to the horses, and Julian helped her remount. Using a fallen log, he hoisted himself onto his own horse.

Before they took off, Cass glanced at him. “Julian, do you think you could ever be my friend again?”

He rubbed his chin and stared off past the water. “No, Cassie. That’s not what I want.”





CHAPTER FORTY


Cass couldn’t concentrate. She was supposed to be writing a letter to her elderly aunt Meredith. Instead, she stared off into the corner of the room, the quill forgotten in her hand. She had so much to sort out in her mind. Her outing with Julian yesterday had left her more confused than before. What did she want? What did she truly want? She didn’t want to marry Garrett or any other man whom she didn’t love. She wanted Julian. She always had and she always would. But that was obviously not to be. She’d nearly screwed up the courage to ask him who he had feelings for, but in the end she just couldn’t.

Julian was still angry with her. She knew that. And what did it matter, really? He’d kissed her the other night because he was attracted to her. He couldn’t help himself, but it didn’t change the fact that he hated her for her lies. He didn’t feel he could trust her. She couldn’t hold out hope on that score. He couldn’t forgive her and she had to accept that. She had to let go of her old dream. It faded before her eyes. Pen might not marry Julian, but neither would she. It was a hope she’d held for so long. So very long.

Cass shook herself from the memories and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. Regardless of what had gone on between them, she knew now that she and Julian did not have a future together, not as husband and wife. She’d been a child when she’d dreamed that dream. Now she was a woman, full-grown. Childish fantasies were best left in the past.

She had to take responsibility for her life, make her own decisions. That meant that she had to get away from her mother. That was the first order of business. As long as her mother controlled her, she would not stop pushing her toward the biggest, most noble title in every room. Cass couldn’t bear that. She couldn’t live the rest of her life being trotted out to social events as she got older and older. She would never marry. She knew that now.

She leaned back in her chair and combed her fingers through her hair. What did she want? Peace. She wanted peace and quiet. The barest hint of an idea skittered through her brain.

She sat up straight. She couldn’t do it, could she? Oh, she’d threatened to a time or two before, but it had only been a jest, really. Hadn’t it?

She tapped a fingertip against the tabletop. But it didn’t have to be, did it? There were young ladies who did it all the time. It wasn’t unthinkable.

She snapped her fingers. Yes. She could! She would. And her mother would have no more control over her. But first, she needed help. She stretched out her arm and dabbed the quill into the inkpot in front of her.

She needed to write two letters. Immediately.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE


Daphne Swift and Jane Lowndes arrived at Cass’s house at nearly the same time. They had both received Cass’s letters and quickly made their way to the Monroes’ town house. Cass had tea waiting for them. Thankfully, her mother was out paying afternoon calls and so the three young ladies were left alone.

Daphne was wearing a pretty pink dress, and her blond hair was wrapped around her head with a few ringlets dangling near her cheeks. Jane wore her usual blue with her usual book as an accessory. Daphne had the grace to look a bit guilty over her duplicitousness about meeting Cassandra in the park. Cass had to admire her for coming over to face her.