Sidney sunk into the bath up to his chin. Not an easy feat for a man his size, but if he sacrificed his knees, his chest would be warm. His hands were still numb from the ride as he reached for the soap, promptly dropping it into the steamy water. He cursed and dug around for it just as a footman entered with a tray. He lifted the lid.
Not again. Sidney sighed half expecting to see a note, but instead it was a card.
“The Marquess of Fenley has requested a meeting with you.”
Lady Delilah’s father? Bloody hell, this couldn’t be a pleasant reason. Or an apology for his daughter’s attempted marriage trap. He’d heard all the gossip in London during his brief stay. He’d sat in White’s for approximately fifteen minutes trying to enjoy a good scotch when the bets and innuendo became too much. Lady Delilah had spared no detail of her discovery of him and Cassie from the papers, and how she was meant to be caught with him, oblivious to the mockery being made of her own name.
“I’ll be down in a moment,” Sidney replied reluctantly.
He couldn’t refuse the summons and part of him was curious about what the marquess had to say.
He dragged himself out the tub, dried off, and then dressed. He was only slightly warmer than when he arrived, but at least he was dry. He didn’t know what had driven him to keep pushing on against his better judgment, other than the feeling that every second that passed was taking Cassie further away from him somehow.
They hadn’t left on good terms, or any terms at all other than they were getting married, and neither of them had been particularly happy about it. He’d been stunned and full of self-loathing, while she must have been shocked and upset. He needed to know why. He had to find a way to speak to her and make it right. They had been friends before, they had shared a special moment down by Old Bill’s grave. He knew her pains; he knew her joys. He could make her happy.
Heading back downstairs to the drawing room, the footman Daniel intercepted him again, this time with a folded note. Sidney almost laughed.
“Thank you, Daniel,” he said, taking the note and pausing to read it. His heart skipped a beat.
Meet me in the conservatory. It’s time we talked.
Cassandra.
Sidney sighed. He’d have to leave one of them waiting. He didn’t want it to be Cassie, but she deserved more of his attention. He planned to get rid of the marquess as soon as possible.
“Please inform Lady Cassandra that I will join her shortly, but first I have to meet with the marquess.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sidney continued on to the drawing room, now anxious and impatient to be rid of the marquess. He halted before entering and cleared his throat not to surprise the marquess. What stunned Sidney, though he didn’t show it, was Lady Delilah’s presence. She was buttoned up to her chin in black brocade as if in mourning, and tears pooled in her eyes as she turned toward him with a trembling pout.
Very pretty and patently false.
“My lord, Lady Delilah, to what do I owe this visit?”
Sidney waved for her to sit. She appeared ready to bolt into his arms.
“Let us not waste any time with frivolous talk. Lord Reardon, I’ve come to offer you my daughter’s hand.”
“She appears in mourning. Are condolences in order?”
“My lord, I am in great sorrow that our singular chance at happiness has been stolen,” Lady Delilah pleaded. “Please listen to what my father has to say, and we can salvage a rosier future.”
She took a step toward him, and Sidney sidestepped her to stand behind a chair, resting his arm on the back. “I recollect no theft of any sort. Of what do you refer?”
Her pointed chin lifted, and her pale blond brows rose in indignation. She blinked away the tears in her watery blue eyes and huffed. “While I admit my plan for a Mistletoe reunion were misguided and driven by the longing of a woman in love, I cannot let this slight go unchallenged. My heart won’t let me.”
“My dear, as heartfelt as your motives are, I know Lord Reardon to be a man of reason. This unpleasantness can be made right with no sacrifice on your part.” He focused on Sidney. “With a donation to Lady Cassandra’s dowry, a suitable replacement groom can be found. She’s a comely girl, and no permanent damage was done, so I’ve heard.”
Sidney bristled. “No damage was done. Lady Cassandra and I have an agreement and will be married shortly. I apologize for any confusion, but at no time did I intent to unite with your daughter. Lady Delilah, consider it a stroke of fortuitous fate that we did not meet that night at the ball. You can have any man of your choosing who is agreeable.”
She sniffed. “I already chose you.”
“I am not free for the choosing.”
Cassie received Sidney’s reply. The marquess was here? Lady Delilah’s father? He was an influential man. What business could he have with Sidney? The news landed like a stone in her stomach. This wasn’t good.
She left the conservatory and went to the drawing room, the one of two places that they might meet. She slowed as she approached the open door, sticking to the wall to avoid being seen.
“I am not free for the choosing,” Sidney said.
“But…but we were supposed to meet that night. This isn’t fair—Father, tell him. Why must he marry her if he can marry me?”
Cassie clenched her fists. Lady Delilah? The nerve of her. Now she needed her father to force the match?
“Darling, why don’t you take a turn about the room and let the men work out a deal,” the marquess replied.
“There is no deal to be made. I am committed to Lady Cassandra.”
“She is scandal personified,” Lady Delilah spat.
Sidney did not reply. He was being diplomatic, Cassie would guess. Cassie didn’t feel so inclined but who was she to cast judgement.
“Name a price,” the Marquess said.
“I’m not chattel. There is no price,” Sidney said, his voice stern. “I am engaged, and I have given my word. My word is my honor.”
“Honor has a price.”
“Not mine. Thank you for the visit, but I must excuse myself. I’ve been riding most of the day and must see to my fiancée. She has missed me dearly, I am sure.”
Cassie heard the thump of the marquess’s cane. “I am disappointed.”
“Father, you can’t let him not choose me.”
“Delilah, he’s already chosen. I can’t shackle the man to you. Good day, Reardon.”
Their voices moved toward the entry, and Cassie hurried back to the door leading to the staff quarters. She startled a maid on the other side and pressed a finger to her lips.
Holding the swing door open just a crack, she watched Lady Delilah and her father bicker all the way out the door and into their carriage. Sidney did not follow. Her heart pounding, part of her wanted to chuck a rock at their retreating vehicle, but Sidney still remained in the drawing room, and she was more eager than ever to put to rest all the puzzling questions between them. Somehow, her anger at Lady Delilah was giving her the courage and fire to do it right now.
Cassie jerked to straighten her dress and brushed back the wisps at her temples. She’d known Sidney for years. She could do this. They could have a rational conversation, and she would not lose her head.