Cassandra

Chapter Twelve

For the next week, Cassandra found herself avoiding Kit at every social event they attended. She ended up dancing with more men than she ever had in her attempts to keep him from speaking to her.

But, she couldn't deny the clench in her heart every time she caught him looking at her from across a room or every time their eyes met.

Throughout the week, whenever she was alone, all she could think of was that one kiss. The feel of his hand on the nape of her neck, sending tingles down her spine as his fingers entangled themselves in her hair. The sparks she felt when he pulled her to him, her body melting into his. And, most of all, his lips moving so perfectly against hers. It had felt as if she belonged in his embrace and nowhere else, as if she could wander the entire world and the only home she'd ever find would be in his arms.

But, reality had struck and she'd pushed him away. She could not trust him. She could not trust any man. Infidelity was in their nature. Besides, her place was beside Alexandra for she needed her. They did not have a mother and, while Nate tried, he wasn't always very good at it.

Finally, however, she had to face Christopher. They were in the carriage on the way to his ball and she could not help but wring her hands in her lap as she fretted over what she'd say to him. Would she have to let him down, to reject him? Or, would he be kind enough to spare her that and let her forget it?

She knew she could not forget it. That thought was foolish. The kiss played on the back of her mind through almost every minute of every day.

Maybe it was just because he was the first man she'd kissed. Yes, that must be it. What other possible reason could be there? Any other man would make her feel the exact same way, wouldn't he? It was only that he was the first she'd been in such close proximity to that she couldn't get it out of her mind.

"Cassie, are you alright?" Nate asked, a hint of worry in his tone as he surveyed her nervous demeanour.

"Yes!" She squeaked hastily, only adding to his concern. "I'm perfectly fine." Nate clearly did not believe her one bit, but he chose only to narrow his eyes at her before looking away, out of the window as the carriage slowed and finally came to a stop.

Hawthorne Hall was a magnificent building. It was large, at least three quarters the size of Nate and Cassandra's own home, which was indeed humongous for a London house, and constructed in the Jacobean style, which only proved just how old it was. Surprisingly, it had decent sized grounds, which were large enough for some games and even horse riding. The only drawback of the house was that it was not close to central London, which meant one had to travel a bit to get there. However, for the briefest of seconds, Cassandra pictured herself living here happily, Kit by her side.

Pushing such thoughts from her mind, she took the carriage driver's offered hand and allowed him to help her out. There were people milling around the entrance of the mansion as the ball was only just beginning. Cassandra wound her arm through Nate's as he escorted her in and they gave their names to the announcer, who also gave Cassandra a thick dance card.

"His Grace, Nathaniel, Duke of Somerhall, and the Lady Cassandra Whitlock." He called, and few heads turned in their direction, mostly those of fortune hunting debutantes who wanted to sink their claws into Nate.

The room was decorated beautifully and tastefully. There was a simplistic elegance to the evening, and there were no garish colours involved. The only flowers were blush pink lilies and white roses, complemented by simple, silver ornaments and accessories throughout. The drapes on the large French doors were a slinky, delicate and shiny white and were half-open, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving a romantic air to the evening. It was one of the loveliest ballrooms she'd ever seen and she could only wish that she had an eye for decorating.