Eastland found himself in a towering rage as he strode toward the manor with heavy footsteps, each one heavier and more pronounced than the last. His brows were knitted in annoyance, and he screamed at the doorman when he took half a second too long to open the door. He growled at the steward when he entered his study as well, when the fool had the audacity to ask if anything was wrong with him.
"Get out!" He pointed to the door with a fire in his eyes that caused the young lad to take off in a split second. Fuming, Henry sat at his table, surrounded in a cloud of his own contempt.
Since when did he allow himself to be irritated past the point of self control by anyone? Not to talk of the foolish boy who couldn’t seem to do anything right.
He cursed lightly as he strode to the window, unable to sit still while he anger continued to boil within him.
Levington just had such a vulnerable, female look about him. His shy, wide blue eyes, and the way his lashes lowered whenever he thought the duke wasn't staring at him were irritating to the extreme, not to mention those few times he'd caught the boy gazing at him with something close to wary admiration.
Henry was no stranger to admiring looks, having been on the receiving end of them more times than he’d cared to count. At first, he’d assumed that Levington simply watched him with the admiration of one who sought to be like him someday. In that area as well, he was no stranger. He’d had enough youths eye him with an unabashed reverence that he had soon gotten bored of it. A man of his accomplishments was bound to draw that sort of attention. Over the years, some had even dared to ask that he grant them the honor of becoming his wards, in hopes that they’ll one day grow to become like him.
The honor.
And then there was Levington; the poor, simpering fellow who couldn’t seem to do anything right.
What had sparked his anger was when Pym had leaned into his ear earlier and whispered, "Perhaps the boy will look less feminine if he were to grow a beard."
As if Levington could even grow a beard.
There was definitely something about the boy that made him edgy, but he felt ridiculous not being able to deal with it calmly.
He had enough on his mind without the problem of a sulky, missish earl. Not only did he have his own estates to run as well as Levington's inheritance, but his Aunt had also recently taken to presenting an endless stream of young eligible females to him as if he were the only bachelor left in all of England. At twenty and Seven, he still had no desire to wed, in spite of the urging of many beautiful women who longed to be a duchess. Women like Rebecca...
Henry's mouth tightened, and he flung himself away from the window and into an aggravated pacing.
Miss Rebecca Spencer, delicate blond beauty and as determined as they came, had been pursuing him with great determination. Rebecca had been incomparable for two years in a row, setting London society on its elegant ear with her cool, classic beauty and air of confident arrogance. And Rebecca had also taken to making herself convenient to him; too convenient.
All of it, combined with his hereditary obligations, put Henry into a less sympathetic mood. He'd had enough of his ward's rebellion and clumsy mistakes, and though what had just happened with the stallion had not been Levington's fault entirely, Henry was determined nothing like it would happen again. He'd not have it said that he'd encouraged the late Earl's heir to follow in his grandfather's footsteps...
He rang the bell then, ordering Sheldon to summon Levington.
By the time Cassy arrived at the duke's library, she had managed to apply liberal amounts of liniment to her sore muscles. Only her bruised nose was a visible reminder of her humiliation. Oddly enough, her hair was wet at the edges, and she appeared paler than usual. The image was not one Eastland had wanted to see. She was still thinking about her encounter with Colin though, and kept wondering if perhaps, he might have noticed her real gender. But, would he have kept quiet about it if he did?
He was waiting for her with his back to the door, a snifter of brandy in one hand. When Sheldon ushered her in, the duke turned slowly and fixed Cassy with a cold stare.
"Sit down, Levington," came the steely command, and she sank hurriedly into a chair.
Watching the duke cross from tall bookshelves to his desk, she felt the beginnings of alarm stir in her. Was he so angry he couldn't speak? It didn't seem fair, somehow, that he should be angry with her.
"I'm sorry about this afternoon, your grace," she said finally when he didn't speak and she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. Because of her bruised nose, her voice was strangely muffled, and her words came out as "I'm torry 'bout dis afternoon, or graits."
It had the effect of making the duke smile, a little wryly, but it was much better than his glacial stare.
"How is your nose, Levington?"
"Tore (sore)," she replied in the same snuffling tone.
"Should I send for a physician?"
"Oh no! No, don't do that..."
"Afraid of doctors, too, Levington?" Eastland muttered with a shake of his head. He moved to the front of his desk and leaned back against it, crossing his powerful arms over his chest and regarding her for a long morning, the stem of the brandy snifter still wedged in his lean fingers.
Cassy was far too aware of his long legs thrust out in front of him, superbly evident in the tight buff trousers and knee-high boots that hugged his calves. Eastland exuded masculinity from every pore and she felt small and frail beside him.
"You have a twin sister, isn't that correct, Levington?" he asked suddenly, startling Cassy.
Her head jerked up and her eyes widened, and she gave a silent nod, afraid to trust her voice not to break. He knew. He must. There was no other explanation.
"I assume that the two of you spent a great deal of time together during your... formative years."
Another nod of her head.
"Just as I thought,” he sighed. "I'm going, to be frank with you, Levington. Your behaviour leaves much to be desired when it comes to certain masculine pursuits. I realize that you may not have been accustomed to some of the activities that I have set out for you to do, but that will change. Even if your heart is not in it now, you need to give yourself a chance to enjoy these things, Levington. If you don't develop a more manly way about you, you're going to end up the butt of some very unsavoury jests before too long. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?"
Cassy nodded weakly.
Eastland rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, gazing at the top of Levington's bent head. The silky mop of curls were pretty but too pretty. They would have to go. It may be the style at the moment but it didn't matter. With those big, heavy lashed eyes, the impression was entirely too feminine. And the boy needed some muscle on him. Broader shoulders, and even a bit of hair on his chin would do. Let everyone know that at least he was capable of putting some hair in that region. The lad always wore a clothes which never revealed his chest, so there was no way of knowing whether he had hair on there as well.
"I have a master in pugilism coming this week, Levington," he said and was faintly startled at the earl's soft moan of despair. He continued grimly, "Grimes has been a champion in his youthful days, and he will see to it that you learn the art and put some muscle in your shoulders. You're too thin in all the wrong places."
"Yeth, or graits (Yes your grace)," came the odd, sniffling words, and Eastland's mouth tightened.
"Also, I am giving a small dinner this evening which I expect you to attend, and I expect you to remember the names and the correct titles of every single guest, do you think you can do that?"
A nod and indistinct mutter answered his question, and Eastland found his irritation returning.
"See that you do. Sheldon will give you a list of the guests, and you will see to it that you are dressed in the appropriate fashion and your manners are impeccable. I've not forgotten how effective a good caning can be to a young man too lazy to learn, so don't think your laziness will be overlooked."
The dark head flung up at his oblique warning, and the blue eyes were a smoky grey beneath the long, curling lashes. "Yeth, or graits," came the husky voice between clenched teeth. "I unner'tand perfeckly (understand perfectly)."
"Excellent." Eastland returned the cool blue gaze with his own and was fairly surprised when Levington did not blink. There was no sign of fear or remorse, or even guilt in the large eyes, only fiery wrath that would have been amusing, and vaguely gratifying if he weren't so irritated about having to give this lecture in the first place.
Levering his long body away from the edge of his desk, Eastland said, "You may go up and get ready for dinner now."
Cassy almost ran from the room and sped up the long, curved flight of stairs that led to her chambers. Damn him! Did he have to act as if he was saddled with a ward too stupid to learn? She had done her best, and if it fell short of the mark, it was still all she could do.
Flinging herself across her bed, Cassy lay facedown until she realized it was only making her nose ache, and then turned over on her back to stare up at the bed canopy. She wished suddenly, fiercely, that Jonathan was there, and that he would tell the duke just what he thought of him. Or what she thought of him. Her brother's temper had never been leavened with tact, and while that could be a definite disadvantage, there were times when the honest rage was much more memorable than a sharp retort.
She wondered glumly what kind of tutor the expert in pugilism would be. Pugilism. She would certainly fare no better in that than she did in fencing, and it sounded much more painful. She briefly closed her eyes at the thought.
It was growing increasingly tempting to confess all and throw herself on the Duke's mercy, but the thought of his anger was daunting. The threatened flogging promised to be an experience she could do without. Besides, there was her brother to consider. He had already risked his inheritance enough.
He would have to come to England in spite of his reluctance, that was all there was to it. A rush of irritation at her twin pricked her, and she had the disloyal thought that Jonathan should not have left her alone to face everything. He should have refused to go ahead with her plan and come to England with her, instead of allowing her to bear the brunt of it all. And she'd tell him just that after he came to England. Her disguise was growing much too difficult to maintain. Looking back, she realized that her plan hadn’t been all that brilliant in the first place. They hadn’t bothered to go over the details of what she would do should the duke find her wanting in areas were she could unfortunately never improve.
And now, to make things much worst, she would have to attend a formal dinner and mouth inane courtesies to people like that stuffy Baron Harry. It would be a long dull evening and she would have to be on her toes to keep from saying something incorrect.
She groaned audibly. Surely, things couldn't get any worse!
"You're a fidgety boy, aren't you?" The Dowager Duchess of Eastland remarked, impaling Cassy with a steely glare."I'm sorry, your grace," she muttered and stared glumly down at her untouched dinner plate. Footmen were still serving a variety of meats from salmon to mutton, along with an astonishing array of vegetables, sausages, pickles, and creamed dishes to tempt the appetite. Across the table, numerous conversations flew in all directions, most too confusing for her to understand."Don't apologise," Eastland's Aunt said in a stern voice. "It's a sign of weakness."Cassy glanced up at the jewelled, rather portly woman with a surprised look, and nodded. "Yes, your grace.""And don't be so mealy-mouthed." The duchess snapped. "Where's your spirit?"A rush of resentment washed through her, and Cassy's eyes glittered as she said evenly, "I've been made to understand that spirit is not as important as obedience, your grace. If it offends you, it does not offend the duke.""I see," the do
Cassy watched with mounting horror as Sir Geoffrey walked into the dining hall with an innocent smile on his face. Behind him walked Colin, handsome as ever, his smile a lazy one. Cassy felt her chest tighten at the sight of him, and the entire hall suddenly felt much too small. "No need for the warm welcome," sir Geoffrey said as he stopped right next to the duke. "We just thought we'd swing by since it appears that we didn't receive an invitation."Eastland flexed his fingers slowly, his rage mounting slowly. Cassy could see the irritation in his eyes, and she could tell that he'd deliberately refused to invite the viscount. "Sir Geoffrey," the duchess said with an exaggerated friendliness, "forgive my oversight. I had assumed that, being my nephew’s nearest neighbor, he would have invited you personally. Invitations were sent out to guests who were far away, and I was careless in my assumptions. Forgive my mistake.""I think nothing of it, your grace," sir Geoffrey said with a flo
Henry Blake, odd as it may seem, did not love Rebecca Spencer, nor was he particularly enamoured of her ripe charms. He'd been tired of her for some time and had welcomed the news of her engagement to Viscount Ravanel. It would effectively remove her from his life, he'd hoped.He should have known better, Henry reflected cynically as he removed Rebecca's arms from around his neck and kept his steely grip on her wrists. She gazed up at him with a pout, and let her curves lean forward to brush against his chest. His body immediately responded in spite of his irritation, and Rebecca knew it."See?" She whispered in a triumphant voice, rubbing her hips suggestively against his arousal. "You still want me!""Maybe I'm just too accustomed to having you, Becky," he said with a shrug. "It's not as if we haven't spent a great many hours in bed together.""Didn't you enjoy those times, Henry?""Immensely.""There's no reason why you can't continue," she murmured throatily and leaned into him eve
Cassy sat huddled in one corner of the black lacquered carriage that sped towards London. Eastland sat opposite her, his long legs thrust out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, looking every inch the splendid lord he was.Yet for the first time, she found it hard to admire him. He'd not spoken a civil word to her in a week and until he'd had Sheldon inform her that she was to accompany him to London, had not deigned to take notice of her at all. It was as if Lord Levington, his ward, has ceased to exist for him.Now they were going to London and she had no idea why. It did not seem like a good idea to inquire, with him gazing out the window and ignoring her. She shifted on the plush velvet squabs and wished she'd never agreed to decided to England. Anything else would have been better than that.Only now she was here, and mired in the masquerade, and did not know how to extricate herself. She was afraid of Eastland. Yes, it was true. Oddly enough, she wasn't as afraid of the th
"You... You’re a... a,""I’m a girl," Cassy finished for her, daring to laugh. Anne staggered away from her, confusion suddenly written all over her face. Cassy felt her breath returning to normal almost immediately, although Anne was quite far from there. "A girl?" she blurted out suddenly, still making no attempt to cover her unclad state. "It would appear so," Cassy replied. "My lord, is there... did lady Herenton put you up to this?" she asked. "Did she pay you to humiliate me like this?""I can assure you that there has been a bit misunderstanding," Cassy said quickly. "And none of this was at your expense.""Then explain this," she grated. "Explain how you are a girl, and how you managed to fool them into thinking you’re not.""You might want to sit down for this," Cassy said. "It’s sort of a long story, and I don’t even know where to begin."Anne eyed her suspiciously, clearly debating whether she could trust this strange woman or not. It was bad enough that she had to discov
Life at Eastland hall had never been better. Cassy found it a shocking turnaround that she could actually smile now, and she was actually beginning to grow fond of the place. Even more shocking, perhaps, was the sudden improvement in everything the Duke laid out for her. The activities which she’d failed at earlier, now seemed like mere chores That’s she could expertly breeze through. It was almost as if the Levington that had gone to London with the duke was replaced by another one, more apt and skilled than the other one. Cassy slowly began to understand the intricacies of fending which her tutor desperately wanted her to understand. "Yes, yes, my lord," monsieur Fournier would exclaim excitedly whenever she successfully parried his thrusts or when her blade would skim right under his arm and straight at his rib. "Zat is exactly what I was saying."Tutoring went well enough, and she soon began to catch up on the many subjects which she was supposed to learn. Her tutors noticed this
Everything started to fall apart from the moment Colin kissed her. It was on a Saturday evening, right after he’d finished teaching her how a man was supposed to shake. Cassy’s grip hadn’t been firm enough, and he’d taught her how to position her fingers, even slightly squeezing the person’s fingers. And then he’d pulled her in and kissed her on the cheek. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but it was dangerously close to her mouth and Cassy had bristled at the sudden invasion. "What do you think you’re doing?" she asked, shoving him away. Colin regarded her coolly. "I didn’t mean to offend you," he said quietly. "I was just...""Don’t ever do that again," she said. "Just don’t."He stepped back, stung by her anger. "Cassandra, I..."Cassy ran from the spot, leaving him staring after her with a confused expression. She ran all the way back to the house, willing herself not to cry. She’d known Colin was attracted to her; had suspected it from the first day he found out her secr
For a long moment, Eastland didn’t speak. Cassy stood frozen before him, desperately trying to cover all that he’d already seen. There was no hiding no; no secrets that hadn’t been exposed already. His formidable gaze swept over her once. Twice. "Get dressed," he said in a clipped tone. "I shall wait for you in the carriage."He turned around and left, leaving her shaking in the wake of his inaction. What on earth just happened? Why, oh why did she have to leave Colin’s letters lying around in her bedchamber? It was over now. Eastland would surely finish her off for good. Cassy dressed slowly, methodically. Her heart was pulsing as she wondered what he had in mind. But even when she met him afterwards, sitting in the carriage with a vacant expression, he didn’t let anything slip. The carriage lurched forward with a jerk. Eastland said nothing, and when the carriage stopped a while later, she flashed him a worried look. From they lamplights standing on each side of a doorway, she kne