She looked so beautiful; he couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t care. He’d be happy to stare at her like this until his heart stopped. He prayed that he could make her happy, that he’d never let her down, or worse, cause her pain.
He didn’t know where these doubts came from, but he was determined to fight them.
He pulled his gaze away and stared at the shifting shadows on the ceiling. How had he gotten so damn lucky? He recalled the night he and Tristan rode back from the ball. They’d stayed and tried to quell speculation, but Lady Delilah had gone and spread word about he and the mysterious redhead, but it was Tristan’s light-o’-love for the evening, Mrs. Hornberry, who had identified Cassie as the lone woman. And Tristan had turned to him with a mask of pure rage.
Sidney hadn’t known what to say, or how to begin to explain what exactly had happened, how he had come to be alone with her, locked in each other’s arms. But the guilt…the total feeling of helplessness, it was just like the night Tristan was stabbed.
It was Sidney who insisted they take a shortcut through the park, Sidney who was too inebriated to fight off a sloppy attack from some thieves, despite years of professional pugilist training. And it was because of Sidney and his drunken-we-are-invincible- attitude that Tristan was stabbed and nearly died.
He was to blame for it all, and yet, Tristan had made him swear to tell no one about his injury. Something that, at the time, seemed like such a small request, but every time he faced Lord and Lady Summers, or Cassie, he felt like a traitor. He’d almost cost them the life of their beloved son and brother.
His stomach turned. Was that the source of his guilt when it came to his feelings for Cassie? Why he never felt he was good enough or deserving enough?
He closed his eyes, and his mind filled with images of that night. So clear and pungent. He could still smell Tristan’s blood. Could still hear the scrape of his boots on the gravel as Sidney struggled to his side, frantically searched for his pulse, and then called for help.
But no one came.
The puddle around Tristan only grew bigger and Sidney was…helpless.
But everything after that was a nightmarish blur. He’d somehow gotten Tristan up and carried him to the brothel.
A brothel, of all places.
Sidney had told so many lies on Tristan’s behalf. It had taken two days for him to wake up, and when he did… Well, he was amused to find himself in a brothel surrounded by pretty and concerned harlots.
But the lies, the secrets, the shame, the guilt, it ate at Sidney. How could he have been so stupid?
That was precisely how he’d felt when he’d been caught with Cassie.
Stupid.
He’d done it again. But it was her reputation on the verge of death, not her actual life. He’d met with Lord Summers that very night and swore he’d do the right thing; he’d sworn it to Tristan in the drive, and Tristan had punched him.
He’d let them all down.
Again.
Disgusted with himself, he eased his arm out from under her and dressed. Sidney couldn’t remain in that cabin, alone with his thoughts while Cassie slept.
He didn’t feel deserving again, and he couldn’t bear for her to wake up and see him in this mood. She might take it as regret or think it had something to do with her.
He closed the cabin door softly and went up on deck. The sun had just begun to kiss the sky, and the crew was working fast. They’d already left the mouth of the harbor and the wind whipped through Sidney’s hair as he stepped up to the railing and stared down at the blur of water passing by.
Would he ever be rid of these feelings? Would there ever come a time when he would deserve her, when he would look at her brother and parents and not feel like a fraud? He was a titled, wealthy man with a reputable family. The cousin of a duke, but he’d made mistakes in his life he couldn’t forgive himself for. He didn’t know how.
But his cousin might know. He’d picked the remains of his life up from the ashes and made something out of it for his daughters by sheer strength alone. Sidney hoped Calvin might have something to say that would help. Until then…he had to go on pretending, for Cassie’s sake, that he believed he was good enough and never let her know the truth.
Arriving in Star Frost, Cassie couldn’t peel her gaze away from the bustling port as the carriage, sent by the Duke of Renvere, collected them and carried her and Sidney into the hills of the island. Sidney kept her hand clasped in his as he stared out the opposite window.
“You’ve never been here before?”
“No. He only arrived earlier in the year. The house needed some repairs, and the girls needed time to adjust. My cousin thought Christmas would be a good time for a visit.”
“Oh no, I didn’t bring anything for the girls!”
Sidney grinned at her. “Don’t worry. I’ve brought enough to spoil them properly.”
“Do they not have an uncle?”
“He had two brothers, but neither survived past toddlerhood. It’s a shame, really.”
“What happened?”
“Illness. His family was plagued by illness. Even he was once severely sick as a child, but he pulled through.”
“How sad.”
“He grew up alone like I did, but we had each other on occasion. Our families were close but lived far from each other.”
“I should feel lucky I had a brother growing up, but I can’t muster the lie.”
He chuckled. “Tristan loves you. He just prefers not to let you know it. He fears you’ll use it against him.”
“What?”
“You could have him wrapped around your finger if you wished. If only you knew the trouble he’s gone through to defend you.”
“Defend me? Against what?”
He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “Men who can’t hold their tongues regarding your beauty.”
Cassie blushed. “I…I don’t know about that.”
“Believe it. We’ve bloodied enough idiots between the two of us.”
“You’ve fought others over me?”
“Countless times.”
Cassie inhaled as the heat of desire washed through her. “I don’t know why, but that excites me.”
He pulled her closer. “Truly?”
The four-day voyage to Star Frost had passed in a blur. Cassie and Sidney had hardly left their bed. Even when a squall rocked the boat and the waves frightened her, Sidney had kept her calm and distracted with the wicked use of his tongue. Cassie had learned her own tricks for bringing him to his knees. There was nothing she didn’t know about him now, inside and out, except for that one secret he wouldn’t share that day at Old Bill’s grave. And though he seemed to have found a way to relax with her, there were times when she would see an air of sadness about him. She didn’t understand it. But in a blink, it would be gone, and he would be back to his fascinating and roguish self.
She didn’t push, but she suspected it involved her brother, and that’s why he kept the secret. There were probably things about Tristan she never wanted to know.
She set her hand on his thigh, knowing he’d be distracted by her touch. She loved that she had this power over him.
“Who did you fight over me? I hope you didn’t hurt someone seriously.”