buried in the churchyard, which is sacrilege, and we did this crime and I try to do the right thing but I can never atone for that. I get so angry at him sometimes.”
Her logic was wrong, utterly wrong, but emotions had a way of making the worst logic seem right.
“Lord Charles said the same thing to me, when he asked me to marry you,” he told her. “He said that Charlie’s death left you all unprotected. I thought he was worrying unnecessarily.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. He fumbled for a kerchief and wiped them away, trying to be gentle, but feeling rough and clumsy. She let him. Because she was taking care of everyone and no one took care of her. He pulled her against him and she slumped against his chest. He stroked her hair and wished he could take away her pain.
“It was his decision,” he said. “He must have been hurting and you gave him peace.”
She said nothing. He held her close and breathed in her fragrance, breathed through the tightness in his chest, the burning in the back of his throat. Cassandra had borne it all and he had mocked her. And Lord Charles: He would have done anything for Lord Charles, if only he had known. But Lord Charles was always so cheerful and congenial, even while he grieved for Charlie. Covering it all up with a pleasant, polite smile.
There was a woman who might know the full story, but he could never tell Cassandra about her. Cassandra still believed her father had been faithful to his wife. He would not take that from her too.
The poor thing. He had been so annoyed by her self-righteousness, her self-possession. It had been easier to think of her as a good, boring girl with polite smiles and petty concerns. He almost wished he didn’t know this about her: That she was so much more.
They sat together a long time, Cassandra’s weight warm and comforting against his side, until he realized she was falling asleep.
“Come on.” He shifted out from under her and she protested, bleary and tipsy. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I like it here,” she said. “It’s warm and you’re comfortable.”
“Your bed will be warm and comfortable too.”
He banked the fire and went to pick her up. She was young and trusting and a little broken too. She was trying so hard to hold her family together. Sweet little fool. It was impossible. He knew better than anyone that families fell apart and there was nothing to be done.
“You’re humoring me,” she said. “That’s what I do with Lucy when she’s drunk. I agree with everything that she says.”
“That’s very wise. You should agree with me every chance you get.”
He lifted her into his arms. She looped her hands around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder and tickled him with her hair. Her bosom pressed into his chest, her rounded hip against his belly. He had not been this close to a woman in months. He ignored his stupid body; she was upset, drunk, and his wife.
“One should never argue with a drunk person,” she said, as he carried her out of the study and up the stairs. “This is something I have learned.”
“I agree.”
“One must be agreeable. You’re not agreeable. You’re disagreeable.”
“No, I’m not. I’m lovely.”
She laughed, her chest moving against his. She wasn’t light, but she wasn’t heavy. He liked the feel of her in his arms. The way her body moved with laughter and the laughter moved into him. Carrying her, as he ought to have done from the start.
“You’re cantankerous.”
“I’m charming.”
“You’re ill-mannered.”
“I’m delightful.”
She laughed again. Soft, gentle laughter. It was nice to see her laughing, but he worried about the pain that she had put away. The pain that had exploded out of her today. It had bewildered him at first, but he understood it now. How lonely it must have been, in her family, the only one knowing the truth, smiling pleasantly through it all.
And he…Selfish didn’t even begin to cover it.
In her room, he lowered her onto her bed. Her eyes were big and dark in the light of the single candle, her brown hair wild against the pillow. He fingered the big bow of her bed jacket.
“Do you wear this thing to sleep in?”
“It’s warm and comfortable. Like you.”
He laughed despite himself, and helped her under the covers. She didn’t need help, but he did it anyway. And he didn’t need to lie down beside