An Angel for the Earl (Rogues and Laces Book 4) Page 5

  “But,” Cassandra replied, hoarsely, her fingers twining together, “when I married, everything I owned then belonged to my husband. Baron Packham is quite correct to state that it is his.”

  Prudence shook her head, thinly veiled anger in her expression.

  “It is inconsiderate and despicable behaviour, Cassandra! The man threw you from the only home you had with nothing but what you wore.” Her jaw clenched for a moment, her eyes sparkling with fury. “To then search for you so as to take the one thing that means more to you than it will ever mean to him is simply callous.”

  Cassandra closed her eyes, suddenly feeling weak.

  “I believe that Baron Packham wishes to punish me for being unable to give his brother what he wanted the most,” she whispered, struggling against the fear that clouded her soul. “My late husband was close with his younger brother and I believe he shared his troubles with him.”

  Prudence tossed her head. “It is quite ridiculous. I am glad, therefore, that you are to remain here with Lord Sherbrooke and the baby for a little longer.” She leaned forward, her expression reassuring. “I will ensure you are well taken care of, Cassandra, should you return to London. You need not worry about anything. The Duke and I have already discussed the matter and we both support you in this entirely. That pendant was your mother’s and, as such, it still belongs to you.”

  “Thank you, Prudence,” Cassandra replied, hollowly. “I cannot quite believe this. The pendant means so much to me and to have it suggested that I am nothing more than a thief is….” It was not something she was able to describe, feeling hurt and the fear capture her heart once more.

  “Mayhap you ought to speak to Lord Sherbrooke about it all,” Prudence suggested, carefully. “it is not my place to tell you what to do or what not to do but I know he would be sympathetic to your plight and more than willing to do what he could to help.”

  The very thought sent a dart of fear into Cassandra’s heart. “No, indeed, I could not,” she stated, quietly. “What if he thinks I am come here simply to pray on his charity? Or that I am trying to wheedle my way into his affections, as so many other young ladies appear to do?” Shame burnt its way into her face. “I could not, Prudence.”

  To her surprise, Prudence shook her head, a resolved glint in her eye. “You do not give the gentleman enough credit, my dear. He will not think poorly of you, not when he knows just how much you have done to help both himself and Josephine. You have spent time together, have you not? Surely you cannot imagine that he would turn his back on you simply because of what you have endured? He is a good man. He will not think you responsible for anything that has occurred, Cassandra. None of it is of your doing nor your fault and I am quite sure Lord Sherbrooke will see that.”

  The fear that besieged her would not leave Cassandra, however, and, even though Prudence encouraged her further, Cassandra could not make any promises to speak to Lord Sherbrooke. She had learned not to trust gentlemen and even now, despite the knowledge that Lord Sherbrooke was of good character, noble and determined, she could not bring herself to speak the truth to him. Fear of what he would do, what he would say and what he would think of her continued to hold her back.

  ***

  That night, Cassandra’s sleep alluded her. Whether or not it was because of what Prudence had said, she could not say, but her heart and mind were unsettled. It was growing late but she still could not settle herself.

  Earlier that evening, she had taken dinner with the rest of the guests, who all just presumed her to be another of the house party guests, and then retired soon after the ladies had made their way to the drawing-room to leave the men to their port. No-one took any particular notice, other than Prudence, who had given her a warm smile as Cassandra had made her way to the door. Having had every intention of falling into a restful sleep, Cassandra had been surprised to find herself pacing up and down the bedchamber without even the thought of changing into her nightgown.

  Opening the door carefully, Cassandra slipped out of her bedchamber and made her way down the staircase, hearing the sound of music, laughter and dancing feet coming from the drawing room. A small smile tugged at her lips at the sound of merriment but she did not go to join them. Instead, she quickly made her way to the library, hoping that a good book would bring her the peace that she required.

  “Lady Packham.”

  She gasped, one hand on her heart as a figure rose from the chair in front of the fire. She had not expected anyone to be within.

  “I do apologise, I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “Lord Sherbrooke,” she stammered, her heart still hammering wildly from fright. “Do excuse me. I did not think you would be here.”

  He chuckled, a glass of brandy in his hand.

  “I confess, I am unused to such noise so late in the evening. I thought to have a few minutes respite before delving into the fray.” His eyes met hers, filled with questions. “You did not linger long.”

  Closing the door behind her, despite the fact that it was quite improper for them both to be alone together, Cassandra felt Prudence’s gentle prodding flood her mind. Her breathing became ragged as she tried to think of what to say, tried desperately to find the courage to speak the truth.

  “Lord Sherbrooke, I – I have had a good few things on my mind of late,” she managed to say, now gripping the back of a chair to steady herself. “I have never spoken of them and I confess that my trust is not easily given.”

  His brows furrowed. “And that is why you did not stay long with the rest of the guests?”

  She swallowed. “In part,” she whispered in an unsteady voice. “The truth is, my lord, I am afraid to tell you what has been long on my mind. My late husband broke any trust I might have once had.”

  Something in his expression darkened and, much to her surprise, he took her hand and led her to a chair by the fire.

  “Please, sit,” he said, seating himself opposite her. “I will say, Lady Packham, that whilst I am glad that you wish to share something of yourself with me, I do not wish you to bring pain onto yourself by doing so.”

  A dark laugh escaped her.

  “I fear you will find out soon enough if I do not,” she replied, harshly. “The Duchess has told me some rather distressing news from London and I do not quite know what to do with it. If you were to hear of it from another source, then I fear you would think quite terribly of me.”

  His brows shot up into his hair in an expression of surprise.

  “Think badly of you, Lady Packham?” he exclaimed, astonished. “Why do you say that?”

  Fears and doubt clouded her mind, forcing her mouth closed for a moment or two. What was she to say? Where was she to begin? Where could she find the courage she would need to tell him the truth about her life with her husband and what had occurred thereafter?

  “I – I have nothing,” she began, her voice breaking with emotion. “When I told you that I have nothing to return to in London, that is precisely what I meant.”

  Nothing more was said for a few moments and Cassandra felt the atmosphere in the room begin to grow tense. She looked down at her hands, unable to lift her eyes to Lord Sherbrooke for fear of what she might see there. Would he have an expression of distaste? Would he ridicule her, think less of her?

  “Why do you have nothing, Lady Packham?” came his low voice. “I thought you were the widow of a baron? Surely he ensured you would be taken care of upon the occasion of his death.”

  Her breath came shuddering out of her in a strangled sob.

  “Not all men are as considerate as you are, my lord.”

  There came a stunned silence. “Do you mean to say that your husband left you with nothing?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Not a single penny?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, looking at him with tears blurring her vision. “And the newly titled Baron Packham did not wish to have to take care of his brother’s widow.”

  “And, your own family?” Lord Sherbro
oke asked, his voice rising with anger. “Do you have none?”

  She bit her lower lip as she looked away. Silence descended between them. Taking a deep breath she finally replied, “My brother’s new wife does not wish to spend a single penny on her widowed sister-in-law,” she whispered.

  “I was turned away by my own flesh and blood.” The shame that came with that knowledge washed over her in waves. Determined to not flinched from the reality of her situation she turned around and finally looked him in the eyes. “I apologise for not telling you the truth, Lord Sherbrooke, but my shame was such that I could not bring myself to speak it.”

  She felt both relief and pain in telling her story to Lord Sherbrooke. She could not tell what he was thinking, for he was now staring at her with an arrested look on his face. Sobs tore at her.

  “I pray you will not send me away, Lord Sherbrooke,” she finished, her voice quivering.

  A stern look crossed Lord Sherbrooke’s face.

  “How dare he?” he breathed, rising to his feet and, to Cassandra’s astonishment, pulling her up to stand next to him. “Lady Packham, you should have told me from the first. I do not think any less of you for this. Those gentlemen should be flogged for their treatment of you.” He looked down into her face. “The shame and disgrace you speak of are not your own.”

  Her hands were held tightly in his and she felt herself grow weak at the knees, awash with relief, happiness and lingering sorrow. To her surprise, Lord Sherbrooke raised a hand and wiped the tears from her cheeks, sending shivers all through her.

  “I did not want you to think that I had come here to prey on you and your kindness,” she admitted, unable to tell him the rest of her story – her bareness and the fact that Lord Packham was still seeking her in order to have her pendant for himself. “I have never wanted anything but to be of aid to you, my lord.”

  “And you have been,” he replied, firmly, bending his head just a little so as to look into her face. “I cannot tell you just how much of a blessing you have been to both Josephine and to myself, Lady Packham. You are not to live in fear any longer. You are to speak to me about all that troubles you and, to bring you relief, I swear not to turn you from this house. You are content and happy here and you bring Josephine so much joy. You can remain here, in this position, for as long as you wish. I give you that promise, my lady.”

  Her heart flooded with joy and, with no forethought or consideration of decorum, Cassandra found herself embracing Lord Sherbrooke. Her arms were about his neck, tears of joy spilling from her eyes as she whispered her thanks over and over again.

  Neither of them saw a figure in the doorway, a figure that watched them with narrowed eyes. They did not see the person leave the library, the door closing softly so as not to alert them to her presence. They were not aware of the malicious thoughts that were soon directed towards Cassandra, nor the determination to bring their attachment, such as it was, to an end.

  All they saw were each other.

  EIGHT

  “My dear Lord Sherbrooke.”

  Daniel looked up from his reading to see none other than Miss Lufton enter the room. She ignored the Duchess of Essington entirely, even though the Duchess looked up at her, having eyes only for Daniel.

  Daniel did not smile back at the lady, already regretting that he had felt strong-armed into inviting the lady and her father to join the rest of his guests for the day’s events. It had been foolish of him to mention it to Lord Falconer when he had last come for dinner, for the man had somehow managed to wrangle an invitation for himself and his daughter to appear almost daily during the week of Daniel’s house party.

  “Are you not joining the other ladies for a walk about the gardens?” he asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

  “It is a lovely morning.”

  “And yet you remain inside,” Miss Lufton murmured, with a slight gleam in her eye. “The truth is, Lord Sherbrooke, I was rather late and have managed to miss the ladies entirely. Would it trouble you terribly to accompany me in an attempt to discover them? I fear I shall become quite lost otherwise.”

  Daniel bit back his first response, gritting his teeth together so that he would not speak out of turn. He was quite sure that Miss Lufton’s father, Lord Falconer, had ensured that his daughter was late to arrive, for Daniel had said only yesterday that he would not be joining the ladies for their morning stroll.

  “I am to meet the Duke of Essington,” he replied, after a moment. “I do not want to miss him.”

  Miss Lufton pouted prettily, whilst the Duchess shot Daniel an incredulous stare from behind the young woman. Daniel lifted one brow as if to ask what he should do but the Duchess simply shrugged and then returned to her book.

  “But I suppose, if the Duchess does not mind asking her husband to wait for my return, then I can accompany you,” Daniel finished, with a thinly concealed sigh. “It will not take long, I am sure.”

  A slightly manipulative smile crossed Miss Lufton’s face, which rattled Daniel all the more. Heaving himself out of his chair and setting his book aside with a resigned look plastered on his face, he offered his arm to Miss Lufton, who took it at once. Begging the Duchess’s forgiveness for absenting himself from her for a time, he walked from the library along the corridor, towards the staircase that would lead them towards the gardens.

  Miss Lufton was breathing rather quickly from what he could tell and when he glanced at her, he saw that her cheeks were a little red. He worried for a moment that he was walking much too rapidly and slowed his pace, only to see her smile at him.

  “Lord Sherbrooke, I am so glad to be alone with you for a few moments,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I have something of great importance to discuss with you.”

  Wondering if the lady was about to declare her feelings, Daniel steeled himself.

  “Is that so, Miss Lufton?”

  “Indeed,” came the bright reply, as though she could not wait to tell him everything. “I have heard news from London that I think you will be interested to hear. Ever since I first met Lady Packham some weeks ago, I confess I was interested in her presence here. I can see now that she has truly fallen from grace.”

  Daniel’s stomach tightened.

  “Tell me, Miss Lufton,” he said, slowly, putting a hint of warning into his voice. “Are you in the habit of writing to London in order to discover more about those I choose to have as guests in my home?” His eyes narrowed a little as they looked at her, seeing her cheeks flush with colour as they stepped outside.

  “No, of course not,” Miss Lufton replied, slowly. “But I am concerned for you, Lord Sherbrooke that you do not know much about the lady within your home.”

  Daniel knew by now that Miss Lufton was without a doubt going to malign Lady Packham and he felt anger rising like a tied in his blood.

  “I do not wish to hear a word spoken against Lady Packham, Miss Lufton. You need not –”

  “Oh, but you must!” Miss Lufton exclaimed, pressing his arm with a little more force. “It is truly dreadful news! You cannot know the truth of her past, surely, else you would never have taken her into your home and certainly not as your mistress.”

  His nostrils flared and he dropped Miss Lufton’s hand, stopping dead in his tracks.

  “Miss Lufton,” he said, firmly. “Lady Packham is not my mistress. The thought of it has never crossed my mind and should you have said such a thing to anyone else, I shall insist that you make amends.” By the look on Miss Lufton’s face, Daniel could see that his loud tone of voice had scared her somewhat but he remained entirely resolute, horrified that Miss Lufton would think such a thing about Lady Packham.

  “I – I simply presumed that this was the reason for her presence, Lord Sherbrooke,” Miss Lufton replied, a little tremulously. “I have not said anything to anyone, of course.”

  Her eyes became a little curious despite his reprimand and Daniel knew he would have to tell her the truth in order to safeguard Lady Packham’s reput
ation.

  “Lady Packham is here to take care of my ward for a time,” he said, stiffly, seeing Miss Lufton’s eyes round. “Not that it is any concern of yours, Miss Lufton.”

  She shook her head, now looking quite sorrowful.

  “Oh, but this is all the worse, Lord Sherbrooke. You cannot allow her to remain in your home, not when she is nothing more than a thief!”

  “Be careful,” he warned, angrily. “Do not start –”

  “I have it from Baron Packham himself,” Miss Lufton replied, triumphantly. “My dear friend is acquainted with him and wrote me everything he said about Lady Packham. It is truly terrible, I can assure you.” She paused for a moment and seeing that he had nothing to say, gave him a small triumphant smile before continuing.

  Daniel did not know why he allowed her to speak on, why he began to listen as she continued to give him the information about Lady Packham that he did not want to hear. The words flowed over him, tearing at his heart and mind and begging him to consider what he knew of Lady Packham.

  “Lady Packham is a truly terrible creature,” Miss Lufton began, sadly. “She refused to do her wifely duty and produce an heir for her husband. In his despondency, he went to war and subsequently lost his life. Of course, Lady Packham I am sure, thought she was doing wonderfully well by way of his will, only to discover that he had left her with nothing.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I cannot say that I do not think that it was not fair of him to do such a thing, given that his wife behaved so terribly within the marriage. And then, to make matters worse, she has taken something that is not her own to take! Blatantly stealing from Lord Packham.”

  Daniel frowned, refusing to accept everything that Miss Lufton had said without question.

  “I highly doubt that, Miss Lufton. You may not be aware, but I know Lady Packham rather well and I know she has nothing to her name.”

  “Which is just as it should be!” Miss Lufton exclaimed, waving her hands about in evident shock. “Although I cannot pretend that I do not wonder what else she might have squirrelled away for herself, given the kind of lady she appears to be. Imagine that! A lady, married and settled, refusing to do her wifely duty and produce an heir! It is little wonder that Baron Packham felt he could do nothing other than leave his home. How unfortunate to then lose his life in battle.” Miss Lufton drew in a breath, her expression a little dreamy. “He must have been a very honourable man.”