Seducing an Angel

Sometimes the list kept growing longer in her head even when she tried to stop thinking. She was three years older than he and had been married before. Her father had been a gambler, her husband a drinker. Such a woman was not a suitable bride for the young and charismatic Earl of Merton.

But, though the last month of the Season crawled along far too slowly, it also galloped along at an alarming pace. For once it was over, Stephen would be returning alone to Warren Hall for the summer and she would be going to an as yet unknown destination – her new home.

And they would never see each other again.

Ever.

It was July. People had already started to trickle out of London to return to their estates or to seek out cooler, fresher air close to the sea or at one of the spas. The parliamentary session was almost at an end. The frantic pace of social activities was begi

And Cassandra had left town. Oh, it was for only a few days, it was true. She had gone into Kent for Miss Haytor's marriage to Golding and would be back. But Stephen was starting to feel nervous – or continuing to feel nervous, to be more accurate. He had courted her quite relentlessly for a whole month, but he was still not sure if she felt anything more for him than a fondness and a friendship.

Neither was enough for him.

Now that it was too late, he wondered if he ought to have told her every day that he loved her. But if he had done that and it had not worked, he would probably /now/ be wondering if he ought to have kept quiet about his feelings.

There were no rules of courtship, it seemed. And there were no guarantees that even the most persistent of efforts would bear fruit.

But he could not wait much longer to press the issue. He had been delaying doing so, he realized, because he feared her answer. Once the question was definitely asked and her answer definitely given, there would be no room left even for hope.

Assuming, that was, that her answer would be no.

When had he become such a pessimist?

Cassandra had expected to be back in town on the Tuesday after the wedding. But Stephen ran into William Belmont by chance on Monday and discovered that she had returned just before he left the house.

Stephen lost no time in going to call on her.

She really was not expecting him. And Mary had become careless, having seen him almost every day for the past month and a half. She did not go to the sitting room first to see if Cassandra would receive him. She merely greeted him with a smile – she was outside polishing the brass knocker on the door – and then went ahead of him to tap on the sitting room door, open it without waiting for an answer, and let him in.

Cassandra was standing before the empty fireplace, one wrist propped on the mantel, the other hand pressed to her mouth. She was weeping quite audibly.

She turned her head toward him, red-eyed and aghast, before turning it sharply away again.

"Oh," she said, making an attempt at bright normality, "you took me by surprise. I look a mess. I arrived home only an hour ago and changed into something comfortable but not very elegant."

She was plumping a lone cushion on the chair beside the fireplace, her back to him.

"Cass." He had hurried across the room to set both hands on her shoulders, making her jump. "What is the matter?"

"With me?" she asked brightly, straightening up and deftly evading his grasp as she went to move a vase a tenth of an inch from its original place on a table behind the chair. "Oh, nothing. Something in my eye."

"Yes," he said. "Tears. What has happened?"

He followed her and handed her a handkerchief. She took it and dabbed at her eyes before turning toward him, though she did not look at him. She smiled.

"Nothing," she said, "except that Alice has got married and is going to live happily ever after with Mr. Golding, and Mary and Belinda are going away with William, /also/ to live happily ever after, and I was indulging in a little self-pity. But they were partly tears of happiness too. I /am/ happy for all of them."

"I am sure you are," he said. "Will /you/ live happily ever after too, Cass? Will you marry me? I love you, you know, and they are not just words spoken to make you feel better about the situation. I /do/ love you. I ca

There. It was all blurted out. He had had a month to prepare a decent speech, but when it had come to the point he had not been prepared at all. And he had not chosen a good moment. She was in deep distress, and his words had not helped. Almost before he had stopped speaking she was across the room and looking out the window.

But she did not say no. He waited with bated breath, but she did not say anything at all.

She was not silent, though, he realized after a few moments. She was sobbing again and doing a damnably poor job of stifling the sounds.

"Cass." He went to stand behind her again, though he did not touch her this time. He heard a world of misery in the one word he had uttered.

"It is not just self-pity, is it? Are you trying to find a way to let me down gently? Can't you marry me?"

It took her a few moments to bring herself sufficiently under control to answer him.

"I think I probably have to," she said then. "I think I am with child, Stephen. No, I don't /think/. I /am/. I have been trying to tell myself otherwise for a few weeks, but I have… /missed/ for a second time now.

I am with child."

And she wailed so uncontrollably that all he could do was grasp her by the shoulders, turn her, and hold her against him while she wept into his shoulder.

He felt weak at the knees. His heart felt as if it were somewhere near the soles of his boots.

"And that is so dreadful, is it?" he asked when her sobs had subsided somewhat. "That you are with child by me? That you must marry me?" /Not like this/, he thought dully. /Not like this. Please not like this/.

But he had slept with her on two successive nights when he ought not to have done so, and now he must bear the consequences. They both must.

She had tipped back her head and was looking up at him with red, frowning face.

"Oh, I did not mean it that way," she said. "I did not mean it that way at all. But how can I do it again, Stephen? I thought I was barren after the last time. It was more than two years before Nigel died. How can I do it again? I /ca

Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks again, and he understood.

"I ca

He blinked away tears from his own eyes.

Cass was expecting a /baby/. /His/ baby.

And she was terrified of losing it.

So was he.

"I can do it alone, Stephen," she said. "You don't need – "

He kissed her. Hard.

"I do," he said, "because it is my child and you are my woman. And because I /love/ you. It does not matter now if you love me or not, but I will keep on wooing you in the hope that one day you will. And I will make you happy. I promise I will."

"I have loved you almost from the first moment," she said. "But, Stephen, it seems so unfair – "

He kissed her hard again and then smiled at her.

She smiled a little tremulously back at him.

"Have you seen a physician?" he asked her.

"No."

"Tomorrow you will," he said. "I'll have Meg go with you."