Page 45 of Dare to be Wicked

Whether Louis was truly diverted from the subject he did not know, but he went with Cassius back to the summerhouse. As they approached, Cassius saw Nic in the open doorway, candlelight at his back, and a leather portfolio open in his hands.

Chapter 15

My dear Kitty,

I shall miss you at this year’s ball. Do you remember that summer here at Holbrook years back, when we dressed Jasper’s stuffed bear in evening clothes? My word, what a long time ago that seems, and yet it’s like yesterday too. The summer always seems to have an element of romance, of the air being full of possibilities, as if it only needs a spark to ignite it. Goodness, listen to me writing of romance! Jasper is rubbing off on me after all these years. Still, I cannot help but wonder what excitement this year’s ball will bring us. There is certainly something in the air.

―Excerpt of a letter from Harriet Cadogan, Countess St Clair (mother of Cassius) to her old friend and Peculiar Lady, Kitty Baxter, Countess of Trevick.

14th July 1838, Holbrook House, Sussex.

Lottie glanced up at her father. It had become dreadfully stuffy inside and he had brought her and Eliza out for a walk in the garden to get some air. Cassius’s father, the earl, had come too, and both men were deep in conversation.

Lottie and Eliza trailed behind them, relishing the cooler air. Lottie had danced all evening, doing her best to appear as she usually did, as though she was having fun, but her heart was with Cassius. She could not keep her thoughts from him, try as she might. Oh, but he’d looked splendid this evening. The stark black-and-white evening wear suited his golden beauty and had been perfectly tailored to his impressive physique. She allowed her mind to drift back to the day she’d caught him skinny dipping in the lake and remembered his broad shoulders, those powerful arms and muscular chest, and the way the water had slid down his body, trailing towards….

“There’s a light on in the summerhouse,” Eliza said, amusement in her tone. “Cassius has escaped.”

Lottie felt heat crawl up her neck as Eliza spoke of Cassius just as she’d been thinking of him naked and wet and splendid and… oh, Lord. Something low in her belly contracted with longing as she thought of the summerhouse, of his gaze upon her, hot and liquid with desire as he sketched her, sprawled against the silks and velvets of the daybed.

“Are you friends again?” Lottie asked, making a valiant effort to keep her thoughts from straying to such wicked subjects and failing miserably. All she could see was Cassius, all she wanted was to feel his skin upon hers, the weight of his body pressing her down. Oh, heavens she would combust if this kept up.

“Not quite,” Eliza said with a sigh. “But we shall be. I’m just…. Oh, Lottie, I just wish he’d been honest with me. I realise he was right, we were not in love, not in that way and he was right to say so, only now I wonder about so many things. How could I have been so blind to the truth, and as I was, how well I really know myself. All the things I had relied upon are gone and I’m… I’m adrift.”

“Eliza,” Lottie said, her heart beating very fast. She knew Cass had wanted them to tell Eliza together, but she could not bear it a moment longer. “Eliza can I tell you something, please?”

“Of course,” Eliza said, concern in her gaze, and there was the sister Lottie knew and loved, the one who would do anything for those she cared about. “You know you can trust me, Lottie. So, please, will you tell me why you’ve been so out of spirits these past days? I hope you’ve not been fretting on my account?”

“In part,” Lottie admitted, gathering her courage. They were drawing close to the summerhouse and she could see two figures walking up from the lake. “But let’s not discuss it here. Can we go back inside? Come to my room and—”

She broke off as there was a bellow of fury. The sound was raw and primitive and they both looked to the summerhouse to see….

Good heavens, was… was that Mr Demarteau and….

Lottie watched in horror as Demarteau flew at Cassius and punched him in the gut. Cassius doubled over, staggering back, and then straightened and threw himself at Mr Demarteau.

Eliza screamed and ran forward, but their father and the earl were faster, wading in and pulling the two men apart with difficulty as they thrashed and struggled, and Louis César got between them to help.

Lottie ran to Cassius, whose lip was bleeding. He was breathing very hard, his colour high. Somewhat to her astonishment, she saw Eliza run towards Mr Demarteau and then stop dead some distance from him.

“What were you thinking?” she demanded of him.

Demarteau said nothing, his gaze fixed on Cassius.

“What in the name of God is going on here?” their father demanded, and Lottie shivered.

Most of the time this fierce man was simply Papa, whom they adored. He was loving and indulgent and dreadfully overprotective, but now and then they were reminded of exactly who and what he was.

Neither man spoke, only glared resentfully at each other.

“Well?” their father bellowed. “Answer me, damn you!”

As they remained stubbornly silent, he turned his attention to Louis César.

“I have no idea,” the comte said, looking as stunned as everyone else.

“Cassius,” the earl said. “What is this about?”

Lottie saw his jaw tighten, but he said nothing, so the earl turned to Mr Demarteau.