flashed over Isaac’s face, and Cassandra stared in confusion. As far as she knew, Isaac was ten years old when Joshua had seen him last. How could he possibly bear him any animosity?
“I don’t need money,” Isaac called to Joshua’s retreating back as he reached the top of the stairs. “As I wrote, I wanted to—”
“I’m busy.” Joshua whirled around. “I cannot see what else we have to say to each other. I don’t have time for this.”
Cassandra rushed forward. “Joshua! Please. This is your brother.”
“Barely. I’ve not seen the boy in fourteen years.”
“We can’t—”
“Not more nagging,” he snapped. He barely looked at her. “I’ve wasted enough time this morning on your idiotic notions.”
She recoiled, stung. A moment ago, they had been about to kiss. An hour ago, they had been friends and allies. And now—
Now he was leaping down the stairs, taking them two at a time in his haste to get away.
Isaac stared after him. He was a couple of years older than her, and was no doubt confident in his own domain, but now he seemed lost and alone.
Curse her husband.
She dashed down the stairs, just in time to see Joshua barge past Mr. Das with a terse “Das, we’re going out,” scoop up his outerwear, and charge out the door.
Mr. Das, still in his coat and hat, bowed easily to Cassandra, apparently inured to Joshua’s ways after all these years. Perhaps in a few years, she would be inured to him too. A few years? He would not even give her a few hours. And he called her complicated!
“I invited Mr. Isaac to stay here,” Mr. Das said. “I apologize. It was not my place.”
Isaac was coming down the stairs swiftly, despite having to place both feet on each step, supported by his stick, before he could tackle the next one.
“You did the right thing,” she said, loudly enough for Isaac to hear too. “Isaac will be staying here, and if Joshua does not like it, then he can either explain to me why, or find somewhere else to sleep. You will tell him that, Mr. Das.”
“With pleasure, Mrs. DeWitt,” Mr. Das said with a bow, and left.
Cassandra turned to Isaac.
“Never mind Joshua,” she said. “He is not polite at the best of times. I, for one, am very happy to meet you.”
Isaac looked at the door and back at her. “You are his wife, I gather. I apologize for the intrusion, Mrs. DeWitt.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “You must call me Cassandra and I will call you Isaac, for we are brother and sister now.”
“It was a mistake to come,” he said stiffly. “I’ll not go where I’m not wanted.”
“Whyever not? Joshua does it all the time. Besides, you are wanted, and never mind him.”
Filby the butler was hovering, awaiting instructions, and so she gave them: a room for their guest, and tea in the drawing room.
“Now,” she said briskly to Isaac, “I have had a rather astonishing day so far, and I mean to refresh myself by drinking tea and eating too many cakes. I insist that you join me and entertain me with exciting stories about life at sea.”
She waited. After a moment, his face broke into a shy smile and his lost look faded away. At least she had accomplished one thing today.
And perhaps he would also tell her more about their family. Perhaps something he said would help her understand her husband, and why he needed to push everyone away.
Chapter 14
That night, Cassandra lay in bed, watching the candle burn down, tensing at every sound.
Until finally she heard footsteps, the door of the next bedroom opening and shutting, and her body came alert like a cat.
She tugged off her nightcap, eased out of bed, and pressed her ear to the connecting door, listening to the sounds of Joshua moving around. A thunk—a boot hitting the floor?—and a second thunk. The clang of the poker as he tended the fire. And then—silence. No movement. No footsteps. Nothing.
He was not coming to her.
No surprise, really. After all, her day had been marked by failure—failure to persuade Lord Bolderwood to drop the case, failure to persuade Joshua to make love to her, have children, accept Isaac. Yet amid the day’s disappointments had been a world of delight: seeing him with the children, tying his cravat, their intoxicating camaraderie, the thrill of misbehaving, of laughing together, of their near kiss.
We are husband and wife, she reminded herself, however he tries to deny it. Their marriage was not