An Angel for the Earl (Rogues and Laces Book 4) Page 7

  He had told his sister not to allow her feelings of love for Mr Pratchett to guide her actions and yet here he was doing the very same. It was just as well he had discovered the truth about Lady Packham before he had decided to act on what he felt! Berating himself all the more, Daniel clenched his fist, embarrassed and ashamed to have almost let himself fall in love with a cold, calculating thief.

  “Lady Packham is not the lady you believe her to be, Duchess,” he said softly, his eyes still on the floor. “I am truly sorry.”

  The Duchess said nothing for a moment. “You have broken her completely, Lord Sherbrooke. I have never seen someone in such distress. She told me repeatedly that she did not understand why you had turned her away or spoken to her in such a manner. May I carefully suggest that you might be wrong in this?”

  “I heard it from Miss Lufton’s lips!” he exclaimed, his head jerking upwards as his anger burst into flame. “She received a letter from town, practically stating the truth from Lord Packham’s own lips.”

  The Duke looked up from his drink. Tempers were about to flare. He sincerely hoped matters would not get further heated as he had no wish to call out Sherbrooke. There was no point in telling his wife that as guests of the Earl they should respect his wishes. She did not look like she was about to listen to anybody right then. He sighed; his wife always had a soft spot for those who could not defend themselves.

  The Duchess took a few steps closer to Lord Sherbrooke, her face white.

  “And what if Lord Packham is not a good man, Lord Sherbrooke? What if he has treated Lady Packham with disdain and cruelty?”

  Daniel looked into the Duchess’s face and shook his head.

  “I think, my lady, it would be a fair recompense for Lady Packham’s behaviour towards her own husband when he lived. To be unable to give him the heir he required is –”

  “Do not tell me that you are placing the blame for that on her shoulders!” the Duchess interrupted, her voice ringing around the library and her cheeks suddenly blazed red. “I thought you a sensible man, my lord and have assured Lady Packham that you were a decent fellow but now to hear this from your lips, mayhap I have been quite wrong!”

  Daniel threw a helpless glance towards the Duke, who simply shrugged.

  “I am sorry, my lady,” he replied, as quietly as he could. “But I must place the blame squarely on her shoulders. After all, she is the one who refused to go to her husband’s bed. Therefore, the –”

  Again, the Duchess interrupted him.

  “Poppycock!” she shouted, throwing her hands up into the air. “Wherever did you hear such a story?”

  Something cold began to wrap itself around Daniel’s heart. “Miss Lufton made it quite clear.”

  “And she supposedly heard it from Lord Packham, did she?” the Duchess replied, raising an eyebrow. “Explain to me, Lord Sherbrooke, why you have accepted the word of a veritable stranger over the testimony of Lady Packham?”

  “I – I have no need to,” he stammered, suddenly feeling cold all over. “Lady Packham admitted it.”

  The Duchess shook her head, her eyes pinned on him.

  “You know as well as I, Sherbrooke, that the lady did not know what she was agreeing too. My goodness! Lady Packham did all she could for her husband, enduring his anger, his temper and his violence – and yet there was no child to speak of.”

  Daniel tried to speak but felt his throat tighten. He could not say a word.

  “You care for Lady Packham, do you not?” the Duchess said, quietly, her hands now clasped in front of her and her expression inquisitive. “I can tell that you have an affection for her in your heart, an affection you do not want to allow yourself to feel.”

  Daniel’s tongue felt too big for his mouth, horror and dread running all through him. Closing his eyes, he felt himself grow paralysed with guilt, realising just how callously he had treated Lady Packham. He had turned her away with little explanation, had practically her thrown from his home in disgrace – a disgrace that she might be innocent of.

  “I do not want to let myself feel anything,” he managed to say, sinking down into a chair. “Not after Claudia.”

  There was a short silence.

  “Claudia loved Mr Pratchett, yes, and he did her a great wrong,” the Duke said, his voice low and steady. “But that does not mean that all such love is so easily twisted. My heart is full of affection for my dear wife and I confess that my days are brighter and my life is happier because of it. To know that one is loved in return is truly the most wonderful of feelings, Sherbrooke. Do not turn your back on it or consider such feelings to be undesirable, my friend. Not when there could be so much potential happiness if only you would allow yourself to accept it.”

  A little taken aback by the Duke’s candid response, Daniel drew in a long breath and let the words settle in his mind. He had thought himself foolish to have come to care for Lady Packham and to have allowed what Miss Lufton had said to play havoc with his thoughts and feelings. He did not understand everything that had gone on and certainly not why Lady Packham had admitted to him that what Miss Lufton had stated was correct, but there was now a nagging doubt in his mind that everything he had thought about Lady Packham had been quite wrong.

  Leaning forward, he rifled his hands through his hair and settled his elbows on his knees. He had made a mistake, it seemed – a terrible mistake.

  “What am I to do now?” he muttered, unable to lift his head to look at either the Duke or the Duchess. “She will not see me, I am quite sure of it.”

  “Then that is, again, where you are wrong,” the Duchess replied, with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will fetch her for you. And then the Duke and I will depart. I suggest, Lord Sherbrooke, that if you have anything particular to say to Lady Packham, you use this opportunity to tell her.”

  Daniel lifted his head and saw the gleam in the Duchess’s eye, knowing precisely what she meant.

  “I do not think she will want to hear it from me,” he replied, digging his hands into his hair again.

  The Duchess chuckled softly.

  “If you speak from your heart, Lady Packham will listen.”

  He did not look up, already anxious about seeing Lady Packham again.

  “I will try,” he promised, hearing the soft click of the door as it closed behind the Duchess and her husband.

  ELEVEN

  Cassandra entered the library on legs that trembled as she walked. In fact, her entire body was shaking as she took in the scene before her. The Duke of Essington was walking towards his wife and Lord Sherbrooke appeared to be sitting by the fire, his head in his hands. He did not look up at her as she drew near. In fact, he did not so much as move.

  “I will leave you now,” Prudence said quietly, putting one hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. “There is much that needs to be said.”

  Cassandra gripped her friend’s hand, turning to face her.

  “But you said you would be by my side.”

  Prudence looked into her eyes, her expression steady.

  “My dear friend, you have nothing to concern yourself with. I have shared a few harsh truths with Lord Sherbrooke and he has come to realise that he may have made some mistakes in his judgement. I believe he has a good many things he wishes to share with you. I will remain with you if you wish it, of course, but these things, I believe, ought to be spoken in private.” A small smile crept over Prudence’s face, her eyes darting towards Lord Sherbrooke. “I will just be in the drawing room should you require me.”

  Cassandra did not want her friend to go, struggling to let go of her hand, but saw the reassurance in Prudence’s face and tried her best to accept that what she was saying was true. If Lord Sherbrooke really was willing to speak to her, if he really had realised that he might have made an error in how he had spoken to her, then she had to find the strength to remain here with him, alone.

  “Please, Lady Packham.”

  Her head jerked around to see Lord Sherbrooke slowly rising to hi
s feet, agony in his eyes.

  “Please,” he said again, his words laced with emotion. “I believe that I may have come to an unfavourable – and entirely incorrect – view of you. Please, I would very much like to discuss the matter and apologise to you sincerely for my utterly contemptible behaviour.”

  Blinking the moisture from her eyes, Cassandra forced herself to remain exactly where she was instead of turning away from him. The memory of what he had said to her in the gardens still tore at her spirit.

  “Please, Cassandra.”

  Her name on his lips was like a breath of fresh air that dusted her cheeks and brought a little spark of joy to her heart. She had not given him leave to address her thus, of course, but the fact that he was doing all he could to draw close to her brought her just a modicum of happiness.

  “Very well, my lord,” she replied, slowly, her shoulders relaxing a little with relief. “What is it you wish to speak to me about?”

  He looked as though she had given him the most wondrous gift, for his expression opened and he rose to his feet, gesturing for her to sit down. He paused then, as though unsure what to do next.

  “Should you like a tea tray? Or a brandy?” he stammered, his hair thoroughly in disarray as he looked about the room as though desperate to ensure she was comfortable. “I do not know what –”

  “Just speak to me, my lord,” she said, softly, halting him mid-sentence. “My heart has no desire to run from you.”

  He paused then, his eyes lingering on her.

  “It is more than I deserve,” he murmured, hoarsely. “The things I said to you….” He trailed off, passing one hand over his eyes. “There is so much going on within my heart that I am afraid that I do not quite know how to say it all, Cassandra.” His eyes caught hers. “Why did you admit that what Miss Lufton said was the truth?”

  Her fingers grasped her pendant. “Because of this,” she said, slowly. “The Duchess – Prudence – she spoke to me almost the moment she arrived at your estate. She told me that my brother-in-law, the newly titled Lord Packham, is searching for me to take away the only thing I have left. My only possession.”

  Lord Sherbrooke frowned.

  “The pendant is his?”

  She shook her head before hesitating.

  “In a way, I suppose it is, my lord. The pendant became the property of my husband’s the day we wed, but my mother gave it to me.”

  Lord Sherbrooke sucked in a breath, his face paling.

  “Are you telling me that Lord Packham wishes to take your mother’s pendant from you, simply because he considers it to be his?”

  She nodded mutely.

  “It is his, I suppose, but I could not bring myself to be parted from it. Not when it is the only thing I have left that reminds me of my mother.”

  “But why did Lord Packham leave you with nothing?” Lord Sherbrooke asked, looking entirely confused.

  Here it was. The time where she would have to tell him the truth. Her shame grew steadily and she closed her eyes tightly, forcing herself to muster up an act of courage she sorely lacked.

  “My brother-in-law knew what my husband – his elder brother – wanted. He wanted a son. An heir. Unfortunately, I could not give that to him.”

  Lord Sherbrooke’s frown deepened as Cassandra opened her eyes and immediately she recalled how he had shouted at her, asking her what else she had kept back. The truth of what he had meant suddenly hit her hard, forcing her to draw in air.

  “You think I kept myself from my husband?” she whispered, heat colouring her cheeks. “Is that what Miss Lufton told you?”

  He nodded slowly, his frown slowly melting away.

  “It was supposedly from Lord Packham’s lips.”

  “But it is not true!” Cassandra exclaimed, remembering just how often she had been forced to endure her husband’s rough beddings. “I did my wifely duty without complaint, but I could not….” She trailed off, feeling utterly ashamed.

  “My husband demanded to know why I could not give him a son but there was never any answer. My disgrace grew with every passing month.” Her eyes fixed to the floor, her words escaping from her like a torrent.

  “When my husband chose to go to look over the war effort, I have never felt such relief. He had threatened me with violence and to have freedom from that for a time was such a blessing. I did not ever think he would lose his life out on the battlefield, but I will confess that I was not sorry to be free of him.” Wretchedness tore at her. “But then the new Lord Packham threw me from what had been my home in London. My husband had left me nothing.”

  “Oh, my dear Cassandra,” Lord Sherbrooke whispered, looking utterly devastated for her.

  “And then, as you know, my brother, chose to secure his wife’s happiness rather than help me in any way,” she finished, feeling her pain rise and then crash over her once more. “If I had not met Prudence that day, then I would have…” She closed her eyes, forcing these final few words from her mouth. “I would have gone to the poorhouse.”

  A swift intake of breath told her that Lord Sherbrooke knew precisely what that would have entailed.

  “I have always longed for children,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. “I do not know why I am barren and I would have done anything to give the Baron what he wished for but I simply could not. To see Josephine, to be allowed to cherish her for a short time has brought great healing to my soul, Lord Sherbrooke. I can only thank you for that.”

  There was a long, heavy silence. Cassandra felt herself shake inside, forcing herself to breathe evenly so that she might not shatter into sobs. She had told him everything, laying out her disgrace and her shame before him so that he now knew precisely who she was and what had occurred in her past.

  “I cannot express what I feel.” Lord Sherbrooke’s voice broke the silence, his words a little hoarse. Cassandra, afraid that he was again going to turn her away from his house and from Josephine, stayed exactly where she was, opening her eyes to stare, unseeingly, at the floor.

  “My callous behaviour is more than I can bear,” Lord Sherbrooke continued, softly. “My dear Cassandra, can you ever forgive me?”

  Her eyes shot to his and, as she looked into his face, she saw that he was laying open his heart before her.

  “I was afraid,” Lord Sherbrooke said, spreading his hands.

  “I told myself repeatedly that I ought not to feel anything for you. I reminded myself of just how foolish my sister was, believing that affection was nothing more than folly. I repeated to myself that to love was to be blind, to be unable to see another for who they truly were.” Swallowing hard, he turned away from her for a moment, his face pinched with remorse.

  “I struggled to believe what Miss Lufton told me of you but in the very same moment, told myself that I was now able to prove that what I had tried to believe was correct. That you were not really who I thought you to be. That I was wrong in my assumptions – despite every evidence to the contrary.” Frustrated and angry with himself, he slammed one hand down on the back of the chair. “Foolish, foolish man that I am. I saw how you treated Josephine, I saw just how much love that child has for you and just how much you cared for her, and yet the moment Miss Lufton told me her supposed truth, I did not hesitate to believe it. I should have listened to my heart.”

  Cassandra blinked back tears. “You are most kind, Lord Sherbrooke.”

  “No,” he replied, harshly. “I am not kind, Cassandra. I am a fool of the worst kind. I turned my back on you without even considering that you might have another explanation. I did not speak to you kindly, I allowed my anger to burn and to let it colour my words.” Slowly, he turned back to her, his eyes filled with regret. “I cannot hope that you will want to stay now.”

  “Stay?”

  Cassandra’s heart flickered with sudden, fierce hope.

  “I – I do not want you to go, Cassandra,” Lord Sherbrooke said, plainly. “If you will consider it, I would have you stay here with Josephine…..and
with me.”

  TWELVE

  Daniel had never felt more like a fool. Cassandra was simply the victim of two, if not three cruel gentlemen. The first being her late husband, the second being her brother-in-law who had sought to punish her for being barren and, most likely, simply to save himself some funds, and the third being her own brother who had rejected her entirely. How unfairly she had been treated! How callously! And yet she still had such a sweet spirit, such a gentleness about her that it took his breath away.

  “Are you asking me, Lord Sherbrooke, to remain here with Josephine?” Cassandra asked, her eyes flaring. “Truly?”

  “Truly, although I do not know if you can ever find the forgiveness in your heart for my sins against you,” he replied, realising that he wanted nothing more than to have her here with him. “I have found this last month to be one of the happiest of my life, despite the grief and pain over losing my sister.” Slowly sitting back down in his chair, he let out a long breath. “I have seen you with Josephine and the love you have for her is evident in everything you do, everything you say. The child loves you, Cassandra.” As do I.

  He stopped dead, his mouth closing tightly. He could not say such a thing to her, could not reveal what he had only just realised was burning in his heart.

  He loved Cassandra.

  He did not want her to depart from his side again, even though he had been the reason behind their brief separation. How much she had done for both himself and baby Josephine! She had listened to him in his grief, comforted him in his pain. Cassandra had been there when he had needed some company, often sitting in silence whilst he held Josephine in his arms or looked out across his estate gardens. How much time they had spent together! And how much had he begun to anticipate their walks, their conversations, their shared laughter?

  “Lord Sherbrooke?” Cassandra asked, softly, looking a little uncertain. “If you will allow me, I will gladly remain here with you and with Josephine. As I have said, I have nowhere else to go.” Her eyes drifted across his face, as though trying to ascertain what was going on with his heart and Daniel was caught with the need to tell her.