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Authors: Shirley Marks

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BOOK: An Agreeable Arrangement
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The momentum of the footmen carried them around
the corner.

“I’ve instructed them to take him to his bedchamber. I’m afraid the library sofa, although it might be the squire’s choice, would not be sufficient to accommodate him.”

 

“Of course. You did the right thing, Maxwell.”

“And I have taken the liberty and sent for the physician. I fear his injuries may be more serious than we
can ascertain.”

If she hadn’t known better, Cassie might have
thought a line of worry crossed the butler’s usual unreadable face.

Cassie headed down the hall, following the footmen.
The squire’s body lay limp on a large four-poster bed.

Julian … what’s happened?

He looked terrible. In the dim light, Cassie lifted
his tousled hair from his forehead. Untying the bloodstained cravat, she gently removed it and unbuttoned
his torn shirt which was soaked with blood-his
blood. Pulling the sides open, she saw the darkened
areas on his abdomen and she feared that he might
have bruised or broken ribs.

She used clean linen and warm water Maxwell had
brought to tend to Julian’s superficial wounds. Wringing the water from the rag, Cassie began to clean the
caked, dried blood from his face.

Bruises spotted his cheekbones, mostly on his left
side. Setting the soiled cloth aside, she ran her cool
hand along his injured face.

Alone in the room, she traced his lips with her fingers. She let them linger for just a moment before she noticed Maxwell’s silent presence. She thought he
had gone.

“The physician should arrive by daybreak … in
about an hour, my lady.”

“Did you wake Edward?” Cassie did not try to explain the intimate touch she knew Maxwell must have
seen.

“Mr. Edward has not yet returned home.”

“He’s not back? He said he went out to play cards.”

“Apparently they were not together,” the butler
calmly replied. “There are many clubs in London, my
lady. It is quite possible he was at another.”

Cassie glanced up at his response. If she had heard
correctly, it was in a somewhat curious tone.

“If Mr. Edward were in the vicinity, he surely would
have come to the squire’s aid.”

“Of course, you are right.” She sighed, feeling foolish that she had read more into his answer. “Please
send for Mrs. Green … then there will be two of us. I
don’t want the squire to be left alone” Cassie impatiently stood and glanced out the window. “Where is
the physician?”

Dawn had broken with the physician’s arrival. He
stayed for nearly two hours tending to Julian. It had
been almost three hours since he had left and Cassie
still sat by the squire’s bedside, unwilling to leave.
Mrs. Green remained by her side for most of the early
morning. She took a few minutes to run to the kitchen
to bring something for Cassie to eat, despite her insistence she was not hungry.

Julian had not regained consciousness which was
of great concern. The physician had no clue to why
he was in this condition or how long it was to last.

In the dim glow of the candlelight, Cassie studied
Julian’s bedchamber. She could not see the entire
room from where she sat in an upholstered armchair
next to Julian, who lay on his solid four-poster bed. The adorning bedcurtains were thick and heavy to
keep out the daylight. Against the wall across from
her she could make out a tall cabinet.

Heavy footsteps from the hallway grew louder.
She doubted it was Maxwell. No one ever heard the
butler enter or exit a room. Cassie straightened in her
chair, wondering who the intruder might be.

The footfalls stopped abruptly and the visitor leaned
into the room. “Julian? Julian, you in there?”

“Edward?”

“Cass? What the devil are you doing in there?” He
hurried into the room. Edward did not look his usual,
incomparable self. His hair was untidy, his clothing
wrinkled. He smelled of spirits, cheroot smoke, and
stale scent.

Is this what happened to men when they went out
to play cards? They stayed out until the sun rose,
came home smelling bad and looking worse? Surely
he had been occupied with much more than ordinary
gambling.

“I beg your pardon, my language” He looked from
Cassie to Julian laid out on his bed, still. “Shouldn’t
there be a maid or footman watching over him?”

“He is badly hurt, Edward. The physician is very
concerned that he has not awakened. Are you not
worried?”

“Pfft, never … Julian is a robust individual.”

“I cannot rest until I know he is well”

“Aren’t you an angel” Edward neared, leaned down, and kissed Cassie on top of her head. “You go
ahead and play the ministering miss if it makes you
feel better. I’m off to bed” He rubbed his face and
shuffled to the door.

“Can you not make inquiries? Are you not at all
concerned to what has happened to him? And who
is responsible?”

“Julian can take care of himself. He always has”
Edward jabbed his index finger at the motionless form
on the bed and left.

An hour later, Julian moaned. Cassie rushed to his
side, placing her hands gently upon him to keep him
still. She hoped he wasn’t in much pain.

He blinked open his eyes and smiled when he saw
her. “Have I died? You’re here. I think I’m in heaven”

“No, you are safe at Stewart Hall and the physician says you are in a bad state. You must rest”

“You shouldn’t be here. You said we were not to
be alone. Here you are in my bedchamber .. ” He
made a move to sit upright, winced at the pain then
thought better of it.

“Well, the circumstances have changed. I did not
know you would be on death’s door the very next day
and … I was afraid for you.” The confession seemed
to ease the tension between them.

“Do not mistake me, I am glad you are here, if
only to watch over me.”

“Apparently, I am the only one who is. Well, Lorna
will be when she learns of your condition, of course, but I am shocked over Edward’s indifference. His family has always been of the utmost importance.”

“It is not his place to worry about me. He is to
marry you and his concern should be your new life
together.”

“If only there were a way we could manage . . “At
this moment Cassie’s choice was clear if the decision
of man or mansion had to be made. She sighed. “It
does not signify. No matter what our outcome may
be”-she pulled her hand free of his and stroked his
face-“I shall always be here for you”

“And I,” he said, placing his hand over hers. “Your
devoted servant”

In two days, the mended squire ventured out of
Stewart Hall into London. He would first stop at
White’s. Its front window was boarded and the inside
was in a state of complete disrepair. George Raggett,
the new owner, had been expecting Julian’s full retribution for the damages incurred.

“Bought this place only a month ago, sir,” Raggett
explained. “I didn’t expect the patrons in an establishment such as this to brawl as if in a common pub” He
shook his head. “Who would have guessed that you
started it all”

Julian said nothing but felt properly humbled.

He’d taken a swing at Lord Avery, who might have
deserved to have his cork drawn, the squire couldn’t
remember. He hadn’t been able to remember much from that night, only that he had, as Mr. Raggett stated,
started a most undignified fight.

Sir Anthony Crenshaw was the kind soul who,
with the assistance of a Mr. Hanford, had helped Julian leave the premises. It was also Sir Anthony who
had seen the squire to his transport and sent him
home.

“It’s not just the window … I’ll be closed until
they finish repairs.”

The squire glanced over at the rubble: The broken
furniture, glasses, lamps, chairs, and most particularly
the large front window through which he had made his
undignified exit.

Of course he was responsible. He was also anxious
to be on his way. It was his last stop that weighed
heavy upon his mind. He pulled out a bank draft and
offered it to the owner.

“That should more than compensate you for your
trouble, I should think.”

Raggett glanced at the figure and his eyes grew
large. “Oh, yes. Thank you, sir. Thank you, very
much” He now gazed at the devastation with appreciation. “I had thought to make a change. Put the door
where the window is and perhaps something to distinguish the place, a bow window, there” He pointed at
the existing doorway.

“Good man, have at it.” Without offering a word
of apology, Julian clapped the owner on the back and
left.

Still sporting the cuts and bruises of the brawl,
Julian did not need to touch his tender, blackened
eye to remind him of the pain. Nothing could come
close to the ache of his broken heart.

Yet he wondered if there was a chance that he and
Cassandra … no, he loved her too much to ask her to
sacrifice the home she held so dear and completely
disregard their fathers’ wishes. They could not-he
could not do such a thing.

Julian had to ignore his feelings. But what if Cassandra was to insist? He would have to deal with that
when and if it happened. The squire could not waste
time pondering wishful thoughts and had to get back
to the business at hand. Next he was to secure a special license for the upcoming wedding.

He pulled himself up into the carriage. It felt as if
his side tore open with the movement. Once seated
he rapped on the trapdoor.

“Where to, squire?” the driver asked.

“To the office of the archbishop.”

With the increasing influx of people, florists,
tailors, and caterers and a multitude of others over the
course of the week, the finality of Cassandra’s marriage loomed over the squire. Madam Bosque came
out to do the bridal fitting personally which further
reminded him of the importance of the upcoming
event.

From the open door of the library, Julian saw the French modiste and her assistants usher the boxes that
comprised the pieces of the bride’s wedding wardrobe
into the house and up the staircase. He wished he
could feel the excitement upon seeing the woman
he loved, wearing the bridal gown, instead of the dread
that came upon him at every one of the dressmaker’s
visits.

He closed the door after the day’s procession had
left and again ignored the summons for dinner. He
remained in the library, bent over documents and
papers, scratching out portions of letters only to
rewrite them several more times without making
their meanings clear. He finally told himself that he
could not continue to hide. In two days the wedding
would be upon them.

The next morning, Julian set his coffee cup on the
breakfast table and eased into the chair intent on reading his morning paper.

The bumps and bruises on his face and arms were
nearly healed. His ribs were another matter-the
pain on his side continued to plague him, a constant
reminder of his foolish behavior at the club.

Romeo came trotting in and right up to the squire.
“Nice to see you, old thing,” Julian greeted him.

Romeo whined then lifted his front end into an upright sitting position, begging. When the squire did
not show any sign of rewarding this display of talent,
the canine proceeded to exhibit his entire repertoire.

He ran in a circle to the left then to the right, stood on his hind legs, and rolled over, landing once again
on his feet.

“I applaud you. It’s all very well done” Julian
chuckled which made his sides ache. “Come now,
you know your mistress forbids us to hand you scraps
from the table” He scolded Romeo. “However, I shall
keep a dish to give to you later. I’m sure she will not
object”

Women’s voices rang outside in the corridor.
When Cassandra and Lorna appeared in the doorway, Julian stood. He and Cassandra locked gazes and
he nearly forgot his sister was also in the room until
she spoke.

“I shall be just a moment, Lady Cassandra. I need to
inform Mrs. Upton that we’ve returned” Lorna backed
out of the room then called for Romeo once she
reached the hall.

A precious silence followed and for the next
minute neither spoke. Julian was merely glad to share
her company, a distinct pleasure of having her all to
himself.

“Good morning, my lady,” he said and the warm
affection his words held was evident even to him.

“Good day to you, sir.” Her voice was soft and understated.

Moments later Edward entered. “I happen to have
heard that exchange,” came the accusation, and a wide
smile upon his face. “Look at what progress you’ve made since my absence” He stepped between them
and held out his arms. “I can feel great affection here”
He gestured from Cassie to Julian and back. “I truly
believed if you both made an effort you could rub
along famously. This could not make me happier. You
are looking in fine form today, brother.”

“I am doing tolerably well, considering,” the
squire replied and winced.

“What did I tell you, my lady? Julian has fared
well, there was no reason to worry.” With a tilt of
his head, Edward addressed Julian. “Did you know
that she had refused to leave your bedside? Only
when-”

BOOK: An Agreeable Arrangement
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