Devil's Embrace

  “To you, Lady Delford, he will appear to be all that is gracious. I only hope that he will have the good sense not to ogle you too openly and that you will have the good fortune not to have to dance with him. He is really as clumsy as he is boring.”

  Although the evening was young, the long, rectangular ballroom set at the back of Kennedy House was already thronged with scarlet-coated officers, ladies far more sumptuously gowned than Cassie, and New York gentlemen, their elaborately clad figures and powdered heads in hearty competition with the English officers. An orchestra of bewigged musicians was upon a dais at the far end of the room. Though there were few ornaments or decorations in the huge room, it was not difficult for Cassie to imagine herself, for a moment at least, back in England. Cassie gave over her shawl to a black maid, for all the windows were closed, and the press of people made the room quite warm.

  With Edward at her side, she made her curtsy to General Howe. She smiled to herself when Edward introduced her to General Clinton, remembering Major Andre’s words. He was not all that was gracious. Indeed, his ogling, Cassie thought, forcing a prim smile to her lips, was more in the nature of a tentative leer. She wished she had not discarded her shawl, for the general’s eyes kept flitting to her bosom.

  “Edward tells me you are leaving us next week, Lady Delford.”

  “It is true, sir. I must return to England.” Although Cassie was not overly tall for a woman, General Clinton was overly short for a man, and her eyes met his bulbous nose.

  General Clinton gave Edward a commiserating look. His pale eyes were set rather wide, and it was difficult to know specifically to whom he was speaking unless he looked at one directly. “The summer, Edward, the summer. We need you here now to drive those rebels into the wilderness.” He heaved a sigh that strained the buttons of his scarlet waistcoat. “We must all of us make sacrifices. The time will pass quickly, you will see. I ask to reserve your permission now for your lovely wife’s hand in a dance before she is besieged. Your servant, my lady,” he added, and bowed brightly, not to her face, but to her bosom.

  “General Clinton makes me feel naked,” Cassie whispered behind her hand to Edward.

  “You should hear what Jen—”

  “I think you can begin finishing her name now, Edward. What does Jenny have to say about him?”

  “That he’s a lecherous old fool she would very much like to kick soundly in his shins.”

  Cassie said, “A most suitable amusement, I think.” She was silent for a moment. “Will Jenny be here this evening, Edward?”

  “Yes. She is a favorite with both generals. You can be assured that she will be discreet.”

  Cassie saw that Edward was ill at ease with such conversation, and hastened to say, “Kennedy House did not succumb to the fire, I gather.”

  “No, the fire was fickle, as I told you.”

  Cassie looked up to see an older woman bearing down upon them, a monstrously huge wig upon her head.

  “That is Mrs. Winston, Cass,” Edward murmured. “She much admires English officers. It is all I can do to remain polite to her. Her husband is quite influential.”

  Cassie said polite how-do-you-dos, marveling as she did so at the expanse of bosom the lady was displaying. Mrs. Winston accorded Cassie only cursory attention before turning to Edward. “Well, my dear sir, the musicians have a fine way with the minuet, do you not agree?”

  “Most assuredly, ma’am,” Edward returned in his most noncommittal tone. “I was just on the point of asking—”

  “How marvelous, sir. I should be delighted to stand up with you.”

  Edward shot Cassie a harassed look before he was borne away, Mrs. Winston’s beringed fingers clutching possessively at his sleeve.

  Cassie was suddenly alone, a startled expression on her face.

  “Something disturbs you, Lady Delford?”

  Cassie turned to see Major Andre at her elbow. She grinned. “Your Mrs. Winston is a most overpowering person.”

  “Believe me, Lady Delford, most of the officers are in Edward’s debt. That she has a tendre for your esteemed husband has made them all breathe a sigh of relief.”

  For an instant, Cassie wished that Major Andre knew the truth. She felt uncomfortable being called Lady Delford.

  She said, her eyes narrowed briefly on a woman who was laughing overloud, “If I did not know better, I would believe that we were in England.”

  “Do not judge our local Tories too harshly. They deserve to enjoy their little displays of luxury and gaiety, for who knows what the future will bring?”

  “You are right, of course, Major Andre. It is a fault of mine, I fear, to judge too quickly.”

  “A woman of your beauty can be allowed almost any fault, my lady.” Major Andre looked around the room, then turned back to her, amusement in his eyes. “Only my rank as aide to General Clinton keeps the gentlemen at bay. Shall I leave you to your fate as Edward has done?”

  “I would just as soon that you did not, Major Andre.”

  “Ah, there is Montresor, my counterpart to our famed commander. He’s a dull fellow, Lady Delford, but an accomplished dancer.”

  “You are generous in your praise, Major.”

  He smiled at the irony in her voice. “You did not give me time to finish. Montresor is also one of the most brilliant strategists I have yet to meet. General Clinton heartily despises him for it.”

  While Major Andre was fetching her a glass of punch, whose ingredients he laughingly refused to name, Cassie caught Jenny’s eye and nodded toward her. She looked radiant with her auburn hair piled high atop her head, in a gown of forest green velvet cut low over her deep-bosomed figure. Her laughter lilted in Cassie’s ears. Jenny would be a sore trial to Edward’s dignity, Cassie thought, but no more than she herself had been.

  “Well, Lady Delford, what do you think of the pleasures offered by New York?”

  “Very impressive, General Clinton. Everyone has been kind.”

  “Even the ladies?” He laughed suggestively.

  “Even the ladies,” she said. Cassie was careful to mind her toes when she danced the minuet with General Clinton, for he was every bit as clumsy as Major Andre had warned.

  She had no time to search out Edward when the dance was done. General Howe laid his hand on her arm as soon as General Clinton finally released her. “There is a gentleman who desires to dance with you. My lord, allow me to present you to one of the fairest ladies to grace New York.”

  Cassie would have preferred to sit down for a moment and catch her breath. But good manners dictated otherwise. Because she had accustomed herself to General Clinton’s unprepossessing height, she found herself staring at an exquisite waistcoat of pale blue silk embroidered with intricate gold thread when she turned.

  “Lady Delford and I are old friends, sir.”

  “Well, I will leave you two young people alone to renew your acquaintance,” General Howe said, and turned away.

  “No,” Cassie whispered, “it cannot be.” She raised her widened eyes to meet his mocking dark ones. “No,” she whispered again, her voice faint. She stumbled backward, and the earl cupped his hand under her elbow.

  “You are looking well, Cassandra.”

  She ran her tongue over dry lips. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t understand why you are looking well? I have wondered the same thing myself.” A mocking smile mirrored his tone. “I fear that the blues of our respective dress do not quite match. Still, we make a striking couple.”

  He offered her his arm. “The music has begun, my dear.”

  She looked numbly down at the fine lace that spilled over his dark hands. He wore the ring she had given him for Christmas on his third finger. She laid her hand tentatively upon his proffered arm.

  They took their places in the long line of ladies and gentlemen. It was fortunate that Cassie knew the steps so well, for her mind seemed frozen, her thoughts suspended. He had come after her, halfway across the world. The thou
ght that he still wanted her careened through her mind, over and over. She was scarce aware when he grasped her arm and deftly removed her from the row of dancers.

  “I would not wish you to faint, my lady. Only think of the scene it would create and the eyebrows that would be raised.”

  “I would not faint,” she said.

  Within a few moments, he had led her to the outer entrance hall. She looked up at him in question.

  “It is my opinion that you need a breath of fresh evening air.” She nodded, for she could think of nothing else to do. They walked past brightly uniformed soldiers to the front veranda.

  They were alone on the wide portico. The earl turned to face her, and grasped her shoulders. His voice was meditative. “When I left, Cassandra, I vowed to myself that if I found you safe and well I would forgo my anger. To my chagrin, however, I have discovered that I want nothing more than to thrash you soundly.”

  Conciliating words, words of love, died on her lips. “Since I am no longer your captive, my lord, I need not fear your threats. Since we are talking about anger, perhaps you can tell me why you lied to me. Damn you, you lied to me.”

  He leaned back against a white-painted pillar, his arms crossed negligently across his chest. “Lied to you, Cassandra? I have done many things, but lying to you was not one of them.”

  “Then, my lord, how do you explain your so interesting relation, Becky Petersham, a woman who has lived with the Broughams for more than ten years?”

  “Ah yes, Becky Petersham. I assume that you read all her letters, cara. If you did, then you will know she is a distant cousin. I placed you in her care because she herself wished a post as a governess in England, and your father did not concern himself with you. You could quite easily have grown up to be a little savage, if I had not intervened. As to my lying to you—” He shrugged. “I suppose that I did deceive you by what I did not say. I would have told you, eventually, after we had wed.” He paused a moment and brushed a fleck of dust from his coat sleeve. “I regret that I had to use Becky to secure your presence that afternoon, but it was unavoidable.”

  Cassie sucked in her breath, furious at his calm dismissal of what he had done. “Your charade was despicable, my lord. And as to Becky Petersham, I shall strangle her if it is ever my misfortune to lay eyes upon her again.” Even as she spoke, she realized that she would see Becky as soon as she returned to Hemphill Hall. She shook that thought from her mind. “I am relieved, my lord, to learn that you can so easily excuse your own perfidy. You are beyond ruthless, and I won’t have it.” She paused, seeing that he was looking down at her, a smile upon his lips.

  “It seems when it comes to you, Cassandra, that I have more than once behaved strangely.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Your anger at finding the letters dulled your thinking, love. I have decided that you must have wished me to come after you, for you were not at all careful in how you replaced the evidence. I suppose, when all is said and done, that I must be grateful to Captain Crowley for being in port. I trust that he took good care of you on the crossing.”

  She felt suddenly like a mouse being toyed with by an omniscient cat. “How did you know of Captain Crowley?” The instant she asked the question, she knew she could have answered it herself.

  As if he guessed her thoughts, he chuckled. “Really, cara, would you not expect me to be aware of every important ship docked in the harbor? I assume the story you concocted for the poor captain wrung his withers.”

  He was speaking to her as if to a stupid twit, and in retaliation, she pulled her damaged pride about her like a cloak. “I told Captain Crowley that I was Lady Delford and that I had been captured by an Italian nobleman. I begged him to take me to New York, to my husband.”

  His amused expression fled at the word, and anger filled his dark eyes. Cassie had the distinct feeling that he would like very much to shake her until her teeth rattled. Strangely, she found herself not at all frightened or distressed by the prospect.

  The earl, with no little effort, regained the tight control he had on himself. The lazy animal grace reappeared in his stance, and he said, “For the past two days, Scargill has kept watch over you, Cassandra. He has watched you chat gaily with Edward Lyndhurst, even stroll through this wretched city on Major Andre’s uniformed arm. Scargill was filled with remorse, you know. You see, it never occurred to him that you would bolt. He, like I, assumed that you no longer wished to leave. You succeeded in making fools out of both of us. As for the bull, Andrea, I failed even there. Daniele was wounded and Andrea long gone by the time I arrived in Riva Trigoso.”

  “Damn you, my lord, you want me to writhe in guilt for escaping from a man who abducted me in the first place? I find your wounded pride about it ridiculous.” She lowered her head, away from the pained tenderness in his eyes. “I am sorry that you did not catch Andrea.”

  “Why did you do it, Cassandra?”

  She looked up at him tentatively, trembling now at the hollow sadness in his voice. “I felt that you had betrayed me, that you had lied to me, and I was naught but what you had wished to create. I felt I had to leave, and fate in the person of Captain Crowley made it possible.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  She faltered, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “I believed, fool that I am, that you had come to care for me. Yet you rushed into Edward Lyndhurst’s arms and wed him the moment you arrived in this miserable city.” His voice became harsh. “Are you pleased with your choice, Lady Delford? Do you moan with passion in his arms? Have you rendered the poor fellow ecstatic, or is he beginning to see that you are not the gentle, malleable girl he had believed you to be?”

  She shook her head stupidly at him. “You are quite wrong, my lord.”

  “Wrong about what, Cassandra?”

  She took a stumbling step toward him.

  “You touch her, you miserable bastard, and I will dispatch your soul to hell where you stand!”

  Cassie froze at Edward’s shout. She turned numbly to see his hand poised on his saber, his eyes fastened with cold hatred upon the earl.

  “Edward, you are wrong. Please—”

  “Silence, Cassie.” Edward turned and offered a contemptuous bow to the earl. “Well, Lord Clare, what an unexpected surprise. Your lordship’s pride is such that you could not allow your captive mistress to escape you?”

  Jenny’s frantic voice cut through the air. “Edward, you must stop—he will kill you.”

  The earl turned his dark gaze toward Jenny, and a black brow winged upward.

  He offered her a negligent bow before straightening to his full height. “I have come to reclaim what is mine, Lyndhurst. You have had your time with her, and you will have no more. I suggest that you choose to divorce her.”

  “I offer you no choice, my lord earl. By tomorrow afternoon, the birds will be feasting upon your black heart.”

  Cassie’s mind planted itself once again in her body. She waved a warning hand toward Jenny, who looked as though she would grab Edward’s sword and run the earl through herself. “Both of you will cease this nonsense right now. For your information, my lord earl, I am not Lady Delford.”

  “Damn you, Cassie, keep a still tongue in your head.”

  A surprised smile lit up the earl’s dark eyes. “Still another lie, Cassandra?”

  “It matters not.” Edward stepped between them. “It is a question of honor, my lord. Do you wish me to strike you, or will you, as a gentleman, accept my challenge?”

  “As you wish, Lyndhurst,” the earl said.

  “You will not do it, Edward,” Jenny said. Suddenly, she weaved where she stood and crumpled into a faint.

  “Will you see to the lady, or shall I, Lyndhurst?”

  Edward gritted his teeth at the earl’s tone, but he had no choice but to drop to his knees and gather Jenny into his arms. When he rose, he said sharply to Cassie, “You will come with me. I trust that he has given you sufficient disgust of
him.”

  “Oh, hush, Edward. See to Jenny. I assure you that I can find my way home without your assistance.”

  Edward turned stiffly on his heel and carried Jenny past several staring soldiers into the house.

  Cassie turned at the sound of the earl’s softly mocking voice. “Well, cara, it would seem that another has gained the viscount’s affections. A touching scene, and, I might add, the lady is quite beautiful. Poor Cassandra—did your lost love refuse to wed you? Has he shattered all your romantic young girl’s illusions? It would appear that I have arrived barely in time to save your shredded virtue. Tell me, cara, how has it felt to bed with a man who does not love you?”

  It was unlike him to be so cruel, but there was so much truth in what he said that she could not forgive him. He had made her feel like a harlot. “You wonder, my lord, how it feels to bed with a man?” she said slowly. “Since it is my first such experience, I vow that I enjoyed it much. When I return to England, I do not despair of finding other such men to please me. They will, after all, be entirely English, and not half-breeds, bloated with masculine conceit.”

  There was such blazing fury in his eyes that her body tensed. And there was something else, something that made her feel hollow with despair.

  “I bid you good night, Cassandra,” he said dispassionately. “After I have satisfied Lyndhurst’s honor, I shall come to fetch you.”

  “No,” she shouted at him, but he did not look back. She stared after him until he was swallowed by the darkness. Cassie sank down upon the front steps and closed her eyes against hated tears. She felt gentle fingers upon her shoulder and looked up to see Scargill kneeling beside her.

  He shook his head sadly. “You wounded him deeply, madonna, and he was too angry to see through your lie.”

  “He deserved it, all of it.” Her voice broke. “Oh God, Scargill, what am I to do now?”

  “I do not know, madonna, would that I did.” He rose and stared down at her a moment in silence. “Now it is a matter of pride.” He pulled on the shock of red hair over his forehead and left her.