Chapter 27

Twenty-Seven

For a week, Cassie had planned what she would say. And for a week, she'd struggled to find the right words. Whenever she thought she'd settled on the perfect way to announce to her brother what she had been doing for over a year, she would practice saying it, cringe, and start over. Until finally, she realized that there was no combination of words in the English language that could possibly make such a confession sound agreeable.

"Milady? We are here," Ruth said from the opposite bench inside Cassie's carriage. In fact, they had arrived at Violet House several minutes ago. Patrick, whom she'd hired after Tris left for Essex, had opened the door. He was still waiting for Cassie to emerge.

Her body was a pile of lead on the bench. Every time she meant to move, she found she could not. It was Christmas Eve, and inside her brother's home, a family dinner was underway. Hugh, Audrey, Sir, and little Cat would be there, as would Tobias.

When Cassie had missed the previous dinner at Violet House on the evening Mr. Youngdale had followed her to St. Paul's Church and rectory, she had sent a note to her brother, announcing that she had ended the courtship with Grant and that she needed time and space. He'd given it to her, only asking that she come for Christmas Eve. Being with family may help her to restore herself, he'd said.

So, for the next handful of days she had lingered at home, in bed mostly, devising her confession. And thinking of Grant. Again and again, she heard the closing of the back door at Hope House as he left, and her own voice telling him to go, that it would be best if they did not see each other again. In genuine self-loathing, he'd likened himself to Renfry and asked her to do him the honor of despising him. It would make things easier, he'd said. He'd been right, it would. She'd tried, but just like her need to come clean about Hope House, she needed to face the truth that she didn't despise him. She couldn't. She couldn't even be angry with him for his pledge to never remarry out of dedication to his dead wife. How could she be when it was one of the things that she loved about him?

"My lady?" Patrick said. He still had his hand extended.

Cassie forced herself to sit forward and take his hand. The action physically drained her. Her pulse grew thready as she walked to the front door, the footman already there, waiting for her. He took her pelisse, hat, and gloves, and Cassie followed the lively voices toward the drawing room. Her somber march into the room was met with wide smiles and welcomes, and Genie and Audrey both stood to come greet her.

They'd heard of the courtship's end, of course. All of London had. She'd avoided reading the gossip columns but when asked, Ruth confirmed it had been reported upon.

"They're speculating you cried off when you caught him with his mistress," Ruth had told her. Cassie's insides had felt as if they were imploding, crushing her from within. He would go to that club on Bond Street now. To Miss Devereaux, no doubt. He would carry on and forget Cassie, and she would have to find a way to live with it.

She would simply do what she had before. She'd throw herself into Hope House—the new Hope House, funded almost entirely by Madame Archambeau and Miss Stone. Elyse had come to Grosvenor Square for tea, as planned, and together, they'd drawn up plans to remake the safe house into a free lying-in hospital and school for women. Madame Archambeau had mentioned a building in Stepney that she owned, and with her additional funds, they could hire a team of security. Elyse had taken their plans back to the benefactress and she'd sent a note to Cassie with the good news—they were to visit the Stepney building at the first of the year.

If she moved forward with Elyse and Madame Archambeau, she would need to do so openly. Honestly. Without a doubt, she would be ostracized from society. Perhaps even from her own brother's home. It was a risk she was willing to accept.

"Toby, get your sister a sherry," Genie said as she led Cassie to a seat on the divan.

"I'm fine," Cassie tried to say, but she had to admit, she didn't sound fine. Her voice shook.

"That bloody blackguard. I knew he was no good," Michael said. "I'm sorry, Neatham, I know he's your friend, but even you must admit now that Thornton wasn't suitable for my sister."

Hugh didn't respond to the duke. He wouldn't denigrate his friend, nor could he argue against Michael's opinion.

"This isn't about Lord Thornton," Cassie said, waving aside the sherry Tobias had brought her. She jumped up from the divan. "I have something to tell you. All of you. And I'm sorry to ruin the night, I planned to wait until after dinner, but honestly, there's no good time to do it. I can't put it off any longer."

She closed her eyes. Looking at them would make it so much more difficult. All the practiced confessions and finessed words fled her mind, and she heard herself blurting: "I've been operating a home for unwed pregnant women in the East End for a year and using my pin money to fund it."

A handful of protracted beats of silence later, she peeked out at the room. Mouths gaped. Eyes blinked owlishly. Michael seemed to have turned into a statue, his loose jaw hanging open in a most unflattering expression.

"You're Hope House." Audrey's whisper severed the stunned quiet. "That is why you didn't need me to look into it for Isabel."

"Who is Isabel?" Genie asked.

"It doesn't matter who Isabel is," Michael said, breaking from his stony mold. "What do you mean you've been running a…a home for…My God, Cassie! The East End?"

Genie swiped the glass of sherry from Tobias's hand and brought it to her husband, who had collapsed backward into a chair. She ordered him to drink. He did, tossing it back in a single gulp.

"I think it does matter who Isabel is," Hugh said from where he was standing behind Audrey's chair. "Unless I'm mistaken, she's the very sort of woman Cassie has been helping at this secret home."

He implored her with a wrinkled brow to speak up for herself. She nodded, the motion jerky with her muscles so tight with nerves. "Yes. Isabel found herself compromised and the man responsible was cruel. She had no one, no family to care for her, no one to turn to for help. But then she heard of a safe place."

"And you took her in?" Michael asked. "You hid her?"

"Her and many more like her, yes," she said, exhaling shakily. "The home is for any woman wishing to have their child in private."

"But you're no midwife," Tobias exclaimed, appearing even more boggled than Michael. "How did you even come to have this…this radical idea?"

Audrey cleared her throat. "Sir, would you please take Catherine to the kitchens? I'm sure Mrs. Comstock wouldn't mind."

The young man scowled at the dismissal. "Things were just getting interesting," he grumbled, but took Catherine's hand and did as he was asked. Genie dismissed the footman and maid from the room, too. As soon as they had gone, Cassie turned to her younger brother.

"Toby, there are things you don't know?—"

She was cut off by the butler knocking on the closed drawing room door.

"What is it, Barton?" Michael snapped. The butler entered and bowed at the neck.

"Your Grace, a visitor. Lord Thornton. Are you in?"

Numbness stole over Cassie from crown to foot as Michael bellowed, "No, we are not in!"

But as Barton turned to deliver the response, Grant shoved past him, into the room.

"You're rather loud for not being in, Fournier." Grant's eyes immediately found and hinged onto Cassie. Her lungs drained of oxygen as she stared at him, her eyes drinking him in. What was he doing here?

"What the devil, Thornton?" Michael lunged to his feet. "How dare you intrude into our home uninvited, and after what you've done?"

"My goodness," Genie said with a gasp as she no doubt saw the faded bruising on his chin and the healing gash near his eye. "Lord Thornton, you've been hurt."

Torn between holding Cassie's gaze and responding to the duchess, he quickly looked away. "It was days ago, Your Grace, I am fine."

"You won't be if you don't get out of my house," Michael retorted.

"Michael, stop," Cassie said, her voice barely audible.

"Actually, I think Thornton's timing is perfect." Hugh sounded far too cheery for the tense moment. "I was just about to share some news about Mr. Youngdale."

"Who?"Michael, Genie, and Tobias exclaimed, all in unison.

"The man who compromised Isabel," Cassie said.

Tobias groaned. "The woman you took into this scandalous Hope House place?"

The corner of Grant's lips twitched, and that adorable dimple dug into his cheek. Oh, good heavens, why did she have the urge to run to him and kiss it?

"I see you told them," he said. She nodded, and he beamed at her with unabashed pride. She dragged in a breath, her head spinning from the rush of it.

"Why should we care about this Youngdale fellow?" Tobias asked.

"Because," Hugh began, "Cassie and Thornton defended a young woman's life against him, even though they risked their own necks to do so."

Cassie shot Hugh a pleading look. "I'm sure we don't need to discuss that right now." Michael was already at the end of his rope. Hearing about the attack in the alley and then the one at the rectory would push him right off.

"Perhaps not, but I think you'd like to know that Youngdale has been arrested—again. This time for the murder of his first wife." Cassie's skin prickled as Hugh continued. "I had some officers look further into her death, and the coroner confessed that Youngdale paid him an unfriendly visit, encouraging him rather forcefully to gloss over some other markings on the woman's body that indicated previous abuse. But it was one of Youngdale's housemaids who clinched it. She was threatened to keep silent about witnessing a dispute near the top of the stairs that resulted in her mistress being shoved to her death."

What Isabel had said was true then. He'd killed his first wife, and he would have had no qualms about doing the same to her after their child had been born. He'd wanted the child. Not her.

"That is awful," Genie said softly.

"He will be going away for quite some time," Hugh said confidently. Cassie nearly swayed with relief.

"Do you mean to say that my sister was in the presence of a vile murderer?" Michael asked, the skin above his cravat turning florid.

"I am perfectly fine, Michael," she said with an exasperated sigh. "The important thing is that a woman is safe, and a murderer is going to prison."

"Yes, a woman who compromised herself, and with a man of immoral character," Tobias said, his cheeks becoming just as red as Michael's. "Not just her but all those women. How could you align yourself with such people? Really, Cassie, a home for unwed mothers? It is shameful."

Cassie reeled from the sharp scolding. Grant took a step toward her, as though he had seen it. But he stopped short of reaching for her. Instead, he turned to Tobias.

"There is nothing shameful about showing compassion. There are too many men who sow their wild oats and never look back to see what comes of them. Your sister is protecting and caring for women who have nowhere else to turn. You should be proud of her; you should support her."

Cassie stared at him in wonder, but Tobias only grated out a laugh. "Support her as she ruins herself by associating with other ruined women?"

"Choose your next words carefully, Tobias." The lowering timbre of Grant's voice lifted the small hairs on her arms.

She went to Grant and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. He doesn't know."

Tobias was the only person in the room who didn't. At the time, he'd been away at university, and it had been easy to leave him in the dark. The fewer people who knew, the better. But now, she knew she would have to tell him.

"That doesn't make it all right," Grant argued. He took her hand from his shoulder and held it between his palms. "I won't hear a single word spoken against you; I don't care who it comes from."

"Grant," she whispered, keenly aware of all the eyes on them. "Why are you here? The charade is over. I've asked you to stay away."

Looking at him, just hearing his voice, hurt as much as it soothed.

He lifted her hand, still clasped between his, to his lips and held her in a stare so tender and vulnerable, it made her heart ache. "The charade is over, yes. It was over long before I even realized it."

She shook her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know when it happened. It might have been when you helped me with Amir at the clinic, or maybe when you confided in me about the baby. But it could have been even earlier when I saw you for that first time at Hope House. If that is the case, and I'm beginning to think it is, then the charade ended before it ever began."

She stared at him through hot welling tears as he pressed two more kisses to her fingertips.

"What is the blackguard saying?" Michael hissed to someone, but Cassie ignored him. She found it simple to do while locked in Grant's unyielding gaze.

"The blackguard is saying that he's been a bloody fool." Grant lowered her hand but didn't relinquish it. He only held on tighter. "When I bullied you into that courtship, I had every intention of getting what I wanted. But because of you, what I wanted changed. By the time I'd come to my senses, I'd done everything wrong."

She sipped shallow breaths, the rest of the room and everyone within it disappearing. Only Grant mattered. Though she could barely see him through the haze of tears.

"All of London is right. I am a blackguard. I'm a scoundrel of the worst ilk. I've treated you wretchedly, and I will beg your forgiveness every day for the rest of my life if I must because whether you want me to be or not, I am in love with you."

A sob lodged in her throat, and with a blink, the welling tears spilled over. "You can't be. I'm ruined, Grant. I'm broken."

"We've both been broken," he said. "But we don't have to stay that way."

Her heart threatened to burst as she clung to Grant's hands. They were the only things keeping her upright as he sank to one knee. "I want you as my wife, Cassie. And there is nothing false or pretend about that."

She trembled, her mind reeling, her heart thrashing. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"I want to believe you." Her voice shook. "I want to trust you. I've never wanted anything more."

He frowned. "But?"

"But you said you'd never marry again, and I can't ask you to. I can't ask you to stop loving her."

"I never will." It was resolute. Unemotional. Just bare fact. Surprisingly, the twist of envy she'd felt the few times he'd spoken of his lost wife did not come. Grant was not fickle. He was steady and tenacious, and she admired him for it.

"My love for Sarah is entirely different from my love for you." He got up from one knee and pulled her closer, holding her hands to his chest. "She was the woman I needed then. You are the woman I need now. Cassie, you're the woman I want. Say you want me too. Tell me you love me, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying like hell to make you smile, even if I have to make a bloody fool of myself to do it."

Cassie laughed through her tears. "Yes, you idiot. Yes, I love you." She sucked in a breath. "I love you, and I'll marry you. Genuinely, this time."

A boyish grin cut those dimples into his cheeks, and she could no longer resist him. She grabbed Grant by the collar and dragged his lips to hers. He held her to him, squeezing her so tightly she could scarcely draw breath. She didn't care in the least. She didn't need something as trivial as air when his lips were on hers.

"Thornton!" Michael's bellow severed their locked mouths, but Grant didn't let her go. He kept a supportive arm around her as they faced the room and everyone watching. Belatedly, her cheeks fumed at their display, but from Hugh's wide grin, the tears sparkling in the corners of Audrey's eyes, Genie's steepled hands pressed against her radiant smile, and even Tobias's slightly bashful smirk, Cassie realized they had nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Come to my study," Michael said after his own flustered moment. "It looks as though we have important matters to discuss after all."

Cassie linked her arm around Grant's, unwilling to let him go. She wasn't certain she'd ever want to be anywhere again without a part of him touching her. "I will come too," she said. "If the pair of you will be discussing my marriage, I will be there as well."

Michael only shook his head. "Of course you will. Come along then."