Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. This had to be excruciating for Cass to hear.
“Thank you, Your Grace, for telling me that,” Cass murmured.
“Of course,” Derek replied.
“I must admit something to you,” Cass said.
Lucy held her breath. Admit something? What? What?
Cass’s voice was soft. “When I first met you, I was frightened of you. Terribly frightened.”
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Derek said.
“No. No. It wasn’t you, not you, yourself. It’s just … that you’re so…”
Ridiculously handsome, Lucy thought and then stepped on her own foot for her idiocy.
“It’s complicated,” Cass finished.
“I understand,” Derek replied.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m not frightened of you anymore, Your Grace,” Cass said. “As soon as I learned you were Julian’s friend. Well, any friend of Julian’s is my friend, too.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Lady Cassandra. And I want you to know that I intend to give you all the time that you need. But I do hope that eventually, you’ll believe that we might get to know each another a bit better.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” came Cass’s reply. “And if you’d still like to, you have my permission to court me. When I’m ready, of course.”
Derek remained silent.
Lucy turned her head away and swallowed the painful lump that had formed in her throat.
CHAPTER THIRTY
This time the letter from Collin was even shorter. It had been scrawled on a bit of dirty parchment his brother had obviously scrounged up somewhere. Collin must be in a very rough place indeed.
I found Adam. He’s hurt but will survive. Bringing him home. No sign of Rafe and Swifdon. They were captured by the French. Adam managed to escape. Derek, it doesn’t look good for them.
Derek slammed his open palm against his desk. Damn it all to hell. It seemed they would be having a double funeral for the Swift brothers. How would he ever tell Swift’s mother? His sister, Daphne? God. That conversation would be one of the most difficult of his life. It didn’t sound as if Penelope, Swift’s intended, much cared, but Daphne and Louisa Swift would be devastated.
Adam was alive. That was the only comfort Derek had. Though it felt wrong to be glad over that news when the news for the Swift family was so dire. Not to mention Rafe. His relatives would need to be found and told as well. The lad had been a reckless hellion but a braver young man, Derek had never known. Wellington and the War Office would try to send a man to tell the families but Derek would stop them. He would make the journeys himself. He would be the one to tell Louisa and Daphne and Cavendish’s family. They would not be informed by some nameless drone from the War Office.
Adam was safe. Derek closed his eyes and repeated that to himself. At least his mother would have the comfort of knowing her three boys were alive. She’d been so worried about Derek going to war—and when Adam and Collin had announced their intentions of working for the War Office, she’d been beside herself. But she knew she couldn’t keep her adult sons for doing what they would. She’d resigned herself to praying for them and waiting for the mail to bring any news. Derek would write to her immediately. He could tell from the state of the missive Collin had sent that that his brother wasn’t in a position to write to their mother in Brighton at their family home. He’d asked her to come to London and stay with him, but she’d insisted on staying near the shore until she heard the fate of her sons. Perhaps now she’d make the journey into town and live the life that would be afforded to her as the mother of a duke. That was some small comfort.
Derek rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. He had nothing to do for the moment but get back to the business of courting Lady Cassandra. And he should be pleased by his progress on that score. Last night she’d told him she would entertain his courtship. Finally. This is what he’d been waiting for. Why didn’t it feel like a victory?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Lucy, please, you must, for me.” Cass was lying propped up against a large group of pillows in the middle of her bed.
“No, no, no. I couldn’t. You know how the duke and I get along. Like oil and water. I think a housemaid would be much better to do it.”
Cass sneezed into her handkerchief. “But I cannot send a housemaid to tell the duke how sick I am. He’s certain to think I’m making it up to dodge him again. If you go, you’ll be ever so much more convincing.”
Lucy watched her poor friend. Cass’s eyes were red, and her nose was running. She clutched a handkerchief in her fist and had a score of sneezes on her lips. Cass was ill. That was obvious. And no wonder. The poor young woman had been under severe strain for days. Lucy would do anything she could to help her friend. Bring soup. Read stories. Check her fever. Keep her company. But she drew the line at traveling to Derek’s rented house on Uphill Drive and informing him that Cass would not be able to see him today because she was ill.