“And Cassandra and Julian? You said they’ve never indicated that they have feelings for each other?”
“Not that I know of. Cass has known Julian since she was a girl. He’s distantly related to her cousin. Penelope’s parents and Julian’s parents have had their betrothal planned for years. Cass had a schoolgirl infatuation with him that she never outgrew. Then Julian went off to the army and she hasn’t seen him in … probably seven years. She’s written to him every day, far more than Penelope ever has.”
“Yes, Swift mentioned her letters. They kept him sane, I believe.”
Lucy searched Derek’s face. “Did Julian ever mention that he had deeper feelings for Cass?”
Derek scuffed at the stone floor with his boot. “I’ve thought about that a lot over the last few days. I don’t remember him indicating anything other than she was the cousin of his soon-to-be betrothed and a good friend to him. If I’d thought he loved her, I never would have promised to marry her.”
Lucy glanced away. “Even though he was dying.”
“It would have been quite awkward,” Derek said.
“But now you feel … obligated?”
He nodded.
Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat and twined her fingers together. “Cass has been so worried about him. So frightened. Her worst fears came true when she learned he’d been gravely injured.”
Derek braced his foot against a large rock on the side of the pool. “I wish I could have stayed with him. Until”—his voice nearly cracked—“the end.”
Lucy nodded solemnly. She walked over to Derek and put her hand on his sleeve. “I’m certain you did everything you could.”
He clenched his fist. “The surgeons told me there was nothing I could do, and my orders were to return to London immediately to debrief the War Office about my involvement in the battle.”
“Julian must have known you couldn’t stay.”
Derek’s face was grim. He cursed under his breath. “War is hell.”
Lucy bit her lip and pulled her hand away from his sleeve. The quiet of the room, the pool, the words they’d just shared. She had to say something probably neither of them wanted to think about. “Derek, when Cass gets better, what shall we do?”
Silently, Derek pulled out the pouch again, extracted a coin, and tossed it into the pool.
Lucy blinked. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you, Lucy, or it might not come true.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The next day, they went riding out into the hillsides surrounding Bath. Two grooms accompanied them, and Derek brought a horse for Lucy. A beautiful little filly with brown and white markings named Delilah.
Lucy stroked the horse’s neck and offered her an apple she’d swiped from the kitchens. They hadn’t even mentioned Cass. Was it possible Derek was as afraid as Lucy that Cass was recovered? She remained an awful friend. She hadn’t even checked on Cass this morning to see how she was feeling.
Lucy had also received another letter from Christian just as clever and charming as the last. But ever since Garrett had mentioned that it was odd that Christian was sending letters more often than he was coming around, she couldn’t help but be preoccupied with that thought. Why was it that he sent letters every morning but she hadn’t seen him since before she’d received the first one? Why was he so painfully shy and quiet in her company when his letters were so expressive and eloquent?
She shook herself. This was exactly why she’d been on the shelf for so long. She questioned everything about anyone and, if he was found lacking, chased him away. Sometimes she didn’t even wait for a reason to chase him away. She needed to find a husband eventually. She wanted a family, children … Love? Perhaps that was too much to ask for, but children would do for a start and a husband precipitated children. It was time for her to finally begin to be serious about courtship and finding a willing and worthy gentleman. Meeting Christian had been fortuitous indeed. She had merely to keep from chasing him away.
It was probably best for both of them that Christian hadn’t come around. Less chance for her to stick her foot solidly in her throat. Besides, she did so enjoy his letters. What sort of a contrary person was she that she assumed the worst? She was being courted by a handsome, eligible viscount who obviously liked her a great deal. Why couldn’t she just accept it and enjoy it?
In the meantime, she was spending time with a handsome, mouthy duke who drove her mad and whom she—ahem—may or may not have done questionable things with in the past. Things she couldn’t forget, even when she was reading Christian’s letters. Derek’s voice snapped her from her thoughts.