Patricia Rice by Dash of Enchantment

her voice. Surely a
man like Wyatt wouldn’t have second thoughts and turn tail.
    “But I thought... He is so much older than you, more
worldly.” Lady Howard lifted her gaze to her aunt’s disapproving expression. “Did
the visit not turn out well? Why are you back so soon? I had hoped... Cassandra
was so set on...”
    Cassandra was accustomed to her mother’s unfinished
sentences, but she did not like the sound of these. Perhaps Merrick had not
mentioned the reason for his sudden proposal.
    Aunt Matilda was not so silent. She gave Cassandra a
scornful glance. “Your daughter behaved as any Howard would and got herself
sent home in disgrace. I trust the young man has offered for her as he said?
Otherwise, we must find somewhere to send her. She cannot show her face in
London again.”
    Cassandra bit back her irritation. Her mother was nearly
white. Had Aunt Matilda no sense at all? “It’s quite all right, Mama. Merrick
will give me his name and there will be no scandal. We really did nothing
wrong. It was an accident. But you know he is the perfect gentleman. He will be
a fine husband and I shall be a proper countess.”
    Lady Howard appeared even more faint. “Merrick? Merrick has
offered for you? But you are to marry Rupert anyway?”
    “Of course not. Why would I marry Rupert? He has clammy
hands.” Anxiety took a deeper hold, and Cassandra hurriedly asked, “Wyatt has
offered, hasn’t he? He said he would. He’s a gentleman. He must.”
    “It is your marriage to Rupert that Duncan has just shown me
in the papers, Cassie. Surely you knew? Even Duncan would not marry you off
without telling you the bridegroom’s name.”
    Her mother seemed to be seeking some reassurance Cassandra
could not give her. She stared at the dowager marchioness with incomprehension.
Duncan would not. He could not. Surely Merrick...?
    Without another word, Cassandra rose from the bed and
woodenly stalked toward the door. She would take a red-hot poker to Duncan’s
head. She would find a butcher knife and run it through his invisible heart.
    She caught him on the way out for the evening. The marquess’s
valet glanced up in surprise and stepped away from the final straightening of
Duncan’s immaculate cravat. The valet discreetly retired from the battleground.
    Duncan gathered up his gold-knobbed walking stick and beaver
hat. “Threw you out, did they?” He began to button his last glove.
    “Did Merrick offer for me? Did he, Duncan? Don’t lie. I know
he did. He’s a gentleman, a fact you’ll never understand. I know he offered.”
    Duncan lifted one dark eyebrow. “Haven’t you outgrown these
childish tantrums yet? Yes, he offered, but he didn’t offer enough. Rupert is
agreeable despite the scandal. He was on his way to obtain a special license
the last I saw of him. He thought an extensive wedding trip might be called for
to let the scandal die down. Very considerate of him, I thought.”
    Cassandra picked up the elaborate snuffbox on the table and
launched it at her brother’s dispassionately handsome face. “No! A thousand
times no! Did you hear me, Duncan? No! I’ll not marry that smug bastard! I’ll
run away with Merrick before I’ll let that toad near me. You can’t make me,
Duncan!”
    A hairbrush and a deck of cards followed the snuffbox. The
brush sent Duncan’s hat flying, and the cards slithered and slid about his feet
as he stalked her. She heaved a century-old carved night table in his path and
grabbed wildly for a weapon, any weapon at all.
    She burned her hands on a lighted oil lamp, but she lifted
its crystal shade and flung it wildly. It smashed into shards on the floor
after bouncing harmlessly off Duncan’s broad chest. The crash had to have been
heard by the entire household, but no one entered to intervene. No one ever
had.
    “You’re wasting your energy and mine, Cass. You know very
well I can make you. Now, stop shattering the furniture before you give Mother
a spasm.”
    Cassandra went