Page 24 of Unmasking the Earl

No, this was completely wrong! Time to end it.

She tipped her head back and regarded him with disdain she somehow managed to summon. “Once again, Mr. Ganstridge, you overstep the mark.” She wrenched herself out of his grasp, out of the seductive spell he had woven about her. “You clearly have some terrible grudge against Captain Wycherley and will do whatever you can to frustrate him. You’ve done your utmost to turn me against him, but you have failed, sirrah. Now, get out of my way. I’m going home.”

She pushed against his chest, and just for an instant she feared he’d refuse to budge. But at the very same moment, a knock came on the front door, which jarred him into movement.

She could feel his presence close behind her as she marched toward the front entry, expecting to see Ella come to collect her.

But when one of the footmen opened it, an elegant female in a satin dress and elaborately feathered turban stepped into the hallway.

It was Lady Lucy.

Chapter Thirteen

A full week had passed since Cassie’s agonizingly embarrassing visit to Wycherley’s house. Lady Lucy had stormed past her down the hallway and, as soon as Wycherley appeared, launched into a jealous tirade about fickle beaux and loose, scheming females, which had made Cassie’s ears turn pink.

Ganstridge had been the saving of her. Again. He’d stepped between her and the irate woman, not giving Lady Lucy the opportunity to get a good look at her face. While Wycherley had begun the courageous process of explaining away the presence of a pretty young woman in his house, Ganstridge had hurried her out the door and up to the top of the street.

Naturally, he’d given her another unwelcome lecture about her highly improper behavior, which had distressed and infuriated her so much her eyes had been moist by the time Ella hove into sight and rescued her.

Why the man had the power to unsettle her so, she couldn’t explain, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to stand up to him. And he was impossible to ignore.

Finally, partly because of, the obstacle of Mr. Ganstridge, she had decided to make only one more visit to Wycherley’s house.

Then she would start her campaign of Getting Noticed By Julian Carnforth.

Unfortunately, the following week when she and Ella were on their way to her final “French lesson,” they had walked barely halfway when the gray sky resolved into a dreary downpour. They huddled together under a shared umbrella, eyes to the ground as they picked their way around the puddles. Lifting their skirts as much as was decent, they struggled on, keeping close to the railings to avoid the wash being sent up by carriage wheels as they clattered over the glistening cobbles.

“I hope you appreciate what I’m doing for you, Julian Carnforth,” Cassie muttered under her breath. “Getting soaked and risking my reputation. All because you are too blind to see the diamond that has been glittering beneath your very nose!”

But never mind. He was such a perfect gentleman, obliging, very rarely out of temper, and so handsome, too. He was less lithe than Wycherley, and no Atlas like Mr. Ganstridge, despite being strong. He’d often given her piggybacks when they were children, and could carry her at a run all the way across the rear lawn and back without getting out of breath. He was capable of dancing every dance at an assembly and still having enough energy to hoist her, laughing, straight up into the carriage so her gown wouldn’t catch on the steps.

The sunny memory of such moments brought a smile to her lips, and she urged Ella to greater speed. The sooner her lessons in seduction were over, the sooner she could reap the rewards.

When they reached Wycherley’s door and Cassie was safely sheltered beneath the portico, Ella took the umbrella and scurried off to the market.

Cassie knocked and waited. The door was opened by one of the footmen, Matthews, who gave a jerk of surprise.

“Miss Blythe? Didn’t you get the master’s note?”

Now what? “No, I received no note.”

He bowed. “My apologies, but Captain Wycherley is not at home. He sent a note with Ganstridge to inform you he was going away. It never reached you?”

It certainly hadn’t. That pompous, interfering Ganstridge! No doubt, he’d done that quite deliberately, to put her nose out of joint and make her waste her time.

“Aren’t you going to invite Miss Blythe in?” came the voice of Wycherley’s other footman, Baxter. “Don’t keep her standing there in the rain. I’m sure she could use a warming cup of tea.”

Matthews stood back and ushered her inside. Well, she would have had to wait, anyway, as Ella wouldn’t be back for at least half an hour. Cassie stepped past the footman and into the drawing room. “When do you expect your master back?”

“Not today, I fear,” stated Matthews. “The roads will be awash if this rain keeps up.”

She settled into a chair near the empty fireplace, feeling like an intruder in Wycherley’s absence. Had something happened between himself and Lady Lucy which had occasioned his unexpected departure?

As Matthews bowed out carrying her damp coat and bonnet, she asked, “And where is Ganstridge? I should like a word with him about that note he failed to deliver.”

Baxter’s voice called from the hallway, “He’s gone with the master.”

“No, he hasn’t,” said Matthews. “He told me he was going on an errand for the captain that would keep him away all night.”