Whisked away from a wintry ball by the officer she knew only through letters, Cassandra Isles struggles with her feelings for the commanding Colonel Lord Heywood. For he, secretly a fortune-hunter, must marry for money to save his estate—and Cass, secretly an heiress, will accept nothing less than love . . .
Release date:
September 26, 2023
Publisher:
Zebra Books
Print pages:
112
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Cass sighed. On the surface, the captain possessed everything a woman would want in a husband. As the youngest son of a viscount, he had rank and connections. And he certainly was good-looking for his age, with his casually disordered black curls, his blue eyes, and his manly demeanor.
But he still repulsed Cass. Was it his calculating mannerisms? His brittle smiles? The way he admonished Kitty at every turn?
Perhaps it was just him, period.
Unfortunately, with Kitty lingering in the retiring room, he was now heading for Cass, probably to probe her for any information he’d been unable to pry out of her and Kitty and Aunt Virginia when he’d brought them here in his carriage.
Once he reached Cass, he barely bowed, as if recognizing her lack of approval. “I see you’ve already lost your pretty companion.”
“I’m sure she’ll return shortly. You were speaking of Kitty, weren’t you?”
“Who else?”
“I have no idea, sir. How many rich women are you courting at present?”
His icy gaze sharpened. “I’m interested in your cousin for herself.”
She stared at him. “If you say so.”
Ignoring her barbed comment, he glanced about the room. “I hope Miss Nickman hasn’t wandered onto the terrace. There are men at this affair who roam the dark, hoping to force a kiss on an unsuspecting maiden.”
Men like you? Cass nearly said. His possessiveness worried her. It wasn’t as if he and Kitty were betrothed.
“I hope you’re not describing yourself,” she said. “If you think to gain my cousin by compromising her, that would be foolish.”
He stiffened. “You misunderstand the situation, madam. I love Miss Nickman.”
Love? She doubted the man even knew the meaning of the word.
Not that Kitty couldn’t make men fall in love with her. She was gorgeous, with wheat-blond hair, clear green eyes, and a perfect figure. Indeed, every woman in the room would hate her if she didn’t also have an amiable temperament, a big heart, and a winning way with everyone she met.
Then there was her petite figure that made her look like a fragile flower in need of a big strong man to guide her, which, unfortunately, she was. Because she was also a naïve heiress to an enormous fortune. That complicated every courtship.
“If you love her,” Cass told the captain, “you can have no objection to waiting a few months before making an offer.”
When annoyance flashed in his expression, it reconfirmed her conviction that he merely wanted to get his hands on Kitty’s dowry. But he masked his reaction swiftly enough. “Doesn’t every young lady aim to find a husband with all due haste?”
“Not before having her London season. Given the size of Kitty’s inheritance, I think—”
“Forgive me, Miss Isles, but what you think doesn’t matter as long as her mother approves of me. And I happen to know that she does.”
“I beg to differ.” When her words seemed to surprise him, she added, “I know my aunt very well—she will never agree to a suitor with nothing to commend him but his connections.” Cass hoped that was the case, anyway. “She’s determined to give her daughter a proper season in London, and you must surely be aware that once she does, Kitty will easily snag a wealthy and titled husband.”
Cass wasn’t about to tell him that Aunt Virginia was actually dazzled by Captain Malet’s rank, his silver tongue, and his dashing uniform. No amount of cautioning her would get her to listen to Cass’s opinion of him.
It would be one thing if the captain truly did love Kitty, but Cass didn’t believe he did, and she was equally uncertain about Kitty, who’d been secretive about her interest in the man. One moment Kitty was flirting with him, and the next she was disappearing to go Lord knows where.
Until Kitty said unreservedly that she was in love with the captain, Cass had to keep the two apart as much as possible. Cass refused to see her beloved cousin suffer the same heartache Cass had once endured over a gentleman in Bath.
She crossed her fingers behind her back. “My aunt will also bow to my opinion in the matter, as will my cousin. They trust me to look after them.”
The captain leaned close. “Ah, but neither will trust you when I mention your spinsterish jealousy over Miss Nickman’s success in attracting a potential husband.”
A laugh erupted from her. Spinsterish jealousy? Was “spinsterish” even a word?
She ought to reveal her age. Or inform him of her own sizable inheritance. But she meant to make sure that any suitor showing an interest in her wanted her only for herself. That was why she was keeping quiet about her dowry for the present and why she’d demanded that her aunt and cousins do the same.
After all, she had plenty of time to marry, and for now she didn’t care one jot if everyone in society assumed she was the poor relation. Her late parents had married for love, and so would she. She meant to get Kitty settled in a love match before concentrating on her own happiness. There were to be no fortune hunters for her or Kitty.
“Well, sir,” she said, “it seems we’re at an impasse. So I shall search for my cousin, and you may do whatever you please.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
“Into the ladies’ retiring room? I think not.”
She marched off, annoyed when the man followed her at a discreet distance. Why was Kitty taking so long? She’d never been the sort to primp and preen. And when Cass entered the enormous parlor fitted out with comfortable furniture, a mirror, a washstand, and a screen behind which sat a chamber pot, she could find no trace of her.
Cass hadn’t seen her in the ballroom either. The captain’s comment about the terrace leapt to mind. Lately, Kitty did have a tendency to wander off.
So Cass headed out herself, relieved to find that the captain had disappeared. But once through the French doors, Cass realized that the terrace encircled the house, and sets of stone steps led down to the garden itself. Kitty could be anywhere.
Cass rubbed her arms. She should have brought her shawl. Her aunt had predicted it would snow before the night was out, and Cass began to believe it. The air felt frozen, and it smelled like . . .
Burning tobacco. The scent of a cheroot hit her from somewhere close by. She whirled to see a man leaning against a pillar, watching her from the shadows.
There are men at this affair who roam the dark, hoping to force a kiss on an unsuspecting maiden.
How ridiculous. She would not let Captain Malet’s remarks strike fear in her. “You might announce yourself, sir, before frightening a lady half to death.”
The stranger chuckled. “Do forgive me, madam. That wasn’t my intent.” He pushed away from the pillar and came into the light from the ballroom. “But I admit to being curious about the lucky fellow you were hoping to meet out here.”
He lifted an eyebrow rakishly, rattling her generally impenetrable armor. She couldn’t imagine why. Just because he was handsome—with brownish hair, a charmingly crooked smile, and a muscular build—was no reason to let him beneath her defenses. After all, he smoked cheroots, which only proved he wasn’t her sort.
Then he dropped his cheroot and stubbed it out with his booted foot, bringing her attention to his attire. He was decidedly not dressed for a ball. He wore a many-caped greatcoat over what appeared to be trousers rather than breeches. If she had to guess, she’d say he was dressed for travel. He still had his hat on, for goodness’ sake.
Alarm bells rang in her head, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m looking for a lady, actually. She’s blond and fair, shorter than I, and is wearing a coquelicot gown with primrose accents. Have you seen her?”
“A coque-what? You might as well tell me the gown is made of cheese. But other than you, no one has come through that door since I arrived.”
That explained his travel clothes, although it did not explain why he was lurking about out here instead of entering through the front door to be announced. She should probably go back inside. “I see. Then you’re of no help to me.”
When she placed her hand on the door handle, he put his against the door to keep it shut. “Perhaps you could be of help to me. I’m looking for Miss Katherine Nickman.”
“Kitty? That’s who I’m looking for! Do you know her?”
A veil descended over his features. “Not by sight. Might you be willing to introduce us?”
Good Lord. The fortune hunters were coming out of the stonework now. “And who will introduce you to me?” she asked tartly. “That should come first, don’t you think?”
His gaze skimmed her form with decided interest. “Since we’re already acquainted by virtue of sharing this stretch of terrace, I was hoping we could dispense with formalities.”
The droll remark made her smile in spite of herself. “You’re very cavalier about introductions, sir.”
His eyes gleamed at her. “So are you. If you’ll recall, you spoke to me first.”
He was flirting with her, of all things. In her role of poor relation, she rarely found herself the object of interest from such a good-looking fellow. “And I begin to t. . .
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