Read Online A Regency Invitation to the House Party of the Season by Nicola Cornick, Elizabeth Rolls, JOANNA MAITLAND - Free Book Online Page A
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thoughts seemed to demean Peter’s evident regard for her. She could not deny that he was sincere in his respect and his attention to her, and under that scrupulous courtesy the feelings ran hot between them. She could feel it in his touch and see it in his eyes, and it was all the moreexciting for the fact that it was banked down and held under such strong control.
She found herself starting to reflect on what it would be like to marry him. It would be an escape from Lady Margaret’s domestic tyranny and her cousins’ benevolent rule. She would have her own establishment in which to exercise all those managing tendencies, which had so far been thwarted. And she would have Peter and those kisses and caresses that had been denied her these ten days past and for which she secretly ached. No doubt it was wanton of her to feel that way, but Cassie had never been one to pretend about her feelings.
It troubled Cassie more than she liked to admit to think of Peter sleeping but one floor below her. Sometimes she would lie awake in her bed, all her senses seeming alive and alert, waiting for something, anticipating something…There would be a pitter-pat of excitement in her stomach and a feverish buzz in her blood, and she would toss and turn restlessly for what seemed like hours. Peter was disturbing her sleep and in Cassie’s book that was a problem that required a solution.
‘Better the devil you know,’ Eliza said one night, when Cassie was preparing for bed and had confided in her maid that she had thought of accepting Peter’s proposal as a means of achieving some independence.
‘That would be the worst reason to marry Lord Quinlan,’ the maid continued. ‘A chaperon’s tyranny is nothing to that of a husband. Marriage is a very serious matter, not to be entered into lightly.’
‘I suppose so,’ Cassie said. Eliza’s words only seemed to echo her own uncertainty.
‘It is not a privilege given to all of us,’ the maid continued with a slight edge to her voice. ‘Use your chances wisely, Miss Cassandra.’
Cassie looked at her, remembering Eliza’s words a few days before about her feelings for Timms. She had always thought of the maid as such a practical homebody that it was a shock to realise that Eliza must have had her hopes and dreams of a family and home of her own. Hopes that she now thought were lost.
‘Now if you want Lord Quinlan because he’s a handsome gentleman, then that’s a different matter, of course,’ Eliza was saying. She cast Cassie a shrewd look. ‘Couldn’t blame you, neither.’
‘Eliza!’
‘Well, now,’ the maid said imperturbably, ‘no need to pretend that you do not think him a good-looking man.’
‘I admit that he is,’ Cassie said, ‘and I doubt that I am the first lady to think so.’
Eliza sat down on the end of the bed, her hands full of the silk stockings that she was sorting. ‘That is another matter entirely, my pet. Are you afraid that you could not hold him?’
‘Yes,’ Cassie said, baldly. She fidgeted with the brightly coloured bedspread, then looked up to meet Eliza’s thoughtful gaze. ‘I am not indifferent to Lord Quinlan, but I am uncertain that I could bear to risk all for him only to find I had lost him after marriage.’ She stopped, staring into the shadows. ‘I have a pile of money and very little else,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘I do not wish to give the money away and find I am left with nothing.’
‘A very practical attitude, my pet,’ Eliza said, patting her hand.
‘Is it so wrong of me to want a man who wants me alone?’ Cassie asked. Her shoulders drooped. ‘Sometimes I do not feel wanted, Eliza. My mother—’ She brokeoff, feeling it disloyal to criticise Mrs Ward, who had been an invalid for many years.
‘Your mother wanted you right enough,’ Eliza said comfortably. ‘Your cousins love you too, Miss Cassie. That is why they want you to be happy. Go about it the wrong way sometimes—’ she sniffed
She found herself starting to reflect on what it would be like to marry him. It would be an escape from Lady Margaret’s domestic tyranny and her cousins’ benevolent rule. She would have her own establishment in which to exercise all those managing tendencies, which had so far been thwarted. And she would have Peter and those kisses and caresses that had been denied her these ten days past and for which she secretly ached. No doubt it was wanton of her to feel that way, but Cassie had never been one to pretend about her feelings.
It troubled Cassie more than she liked to admit to think of Peter sleeping but one floor below her. Sometimes she would lie awake in her bed, all her senses seeming alive and alert, waiting for something, anticipating something…There would be a pitter-pat of excitement in her stomach and a feverish buzz in her blood, and she would toss and turn restlessly for what seemed like hours. Peter was disturbing her sleep and in Cassie’s book that was a problem that required a solution.
‘Better the devil you know,’ Eliza said one night, when Cassie was preparing for bed and had confided in her maid that she had thought of accepting Peter’s proposal as a means of achieving some independence.
‘That would be the worst reason to marry Lord Quinlan,’ the maid continued. ‘A chaperon’s tyranny is nothing to that of a husband. Marriage is a very serious matter, not to be entered into lightly.’
‘I suppose so,’ Cassie said. Eliza’s words only seemed to echo her own uncertainty.
‘It is not a privilege given to all of us,’ the maid continued with a slight edge to her voice. ‘Use your chances wisely, Miss Cassandra.’
Cassie looked at her, remembering Eliza’s words a few days before about her feelings for Timms. She had always thought of the maid as such a practical homebody that it was a shock to realise that Eliza must have had her hopes and dreams of a family and home of her own. Hopes that she now thought were lost.
‘Now if you want Lord Quinlan because he’s a handsome gentleman, then that’s a different matter, of course,’ Eliza was saying. She cast Cassie a shrewd look. ‘Couldn’t blame you, neither.’
‘Eliza!’
‘Well, now,’ the maid said imperturbably, ‘no need to pretend that you do not think him a good-looking man.’
‘I admit that he is,’ Cassie said, ‘and I doubt that I am the first lady to think so.’
Eliza sat down on the end of the bed, her hands full of the silk stockings that she was sorting. ‘That is another matter entirely, my pet. Are you afraid that you could not hold him?’
‘Yes,’ Cassie said, baldly. She fidgeted with the brightly coloured bedspread, then looked up to meet Eliza’s thoughtful gaze. ‘I am not indifferent to Lord Quinlan, but I am uncertain that I could bear to risk all for him only to find I had lost him after marriage.’ She stopped, staring into the shadows. ‘I have a pile of money and very little else,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘I do not wish to give the money away and find I am left with nothing.’
‘A very practical attitude, my pet,’ Eliza said, patting her hand.
‘Is it so wrong of me to want a man who wants me alone?’ Cassie asked. Her shoulders drooped. ‘Sometimes I do not feel wanted, Eliza. My mother—’ She brokeoff, feeling it disloyal to criticise Mrs Ward, who had been an invalid for many years.
‘Your mother wanted you right enough,’ Eliza said comfortably. ‘Your cousins love you too, Miss Cassie. That is why they want you to be happy. Go about it the wrong way sometimes—’ she sniffed
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