Free Lord Deverill's Secret by Amanda Grange Page B

It was a small piece of foliage.
    She gave an inward sigh, as she realized that was why he had stepped so close. Making an effort to recover her composure she wondered why she had been so foolish, allowing herself to become mesmerized by a man who had done nothing more than remove a leaf from her hair.
    “It must have fallen from the pot when I held it over my head,” she said.
    “Yes,” he said.
    But somehow the tension did not relax. He was still looking at her intently and she swallowed.
    “Cassandra…” he said.
    “Lord Deverill…”
    “My name is Justin,” he said softly.
    “Justin…I…”
    But she said no more, for without her knowing quite how it happened he was kissing her on the lips and she found herself responding, moving her mouth under his. It was a sweet sensation, slow and sensuous, and she slid her arms around his neck, revelling in the feeling until he let her go.
    She looked into his eyes and saw the dark rim she had never been close enough to notice before, accentuating the green and making it glow. But she saw something else, a tortured look she could not understand, unless it was caused by the fact that he had kissed her and should not have done so.
    The thought brought her to an awareness of what had happened and she felt herself flush. She had forgotten how to behave. For one mad moment she had lost control of herself and given in to her desires, desires she had never experienced before. They had overwhelmed her, intoxicating her and awakening her to new and powerful feelings.
    It had all seemed so clear at the time: Justin was kissing her and she was kissing him back. But in the cold light of reality it seemed confusing, and she could take no more.
    “I must go,” she said.
    She slipped out of the room, and returned to the drawing-room. It was noisy, so she retreated to the card-room, where there were only a few people. Some were playing cribbage and some whist. She stood and watched the players, effacing herself in the corner so that she would not be called upon to speak to anyone. By and by the ordinariness of her surroundings began to calm her and she felt her pulse slow. She began to take an interest in the games, and was pleased to see a game of cribbage brought to a successful conclusion.
    She had just restored her equanimity, however, when it was shaken again by the sight of Mr. Bradley entering the room. He was looking a trifle more sober than the last time she had seen him. He had fastened the buttons of his waistcoat and straightened his cravat. But she was still wary of him. He looked round the room, and his eyes alighted on her. In the card-room, with others present, she did not feel threatened, but she was uncomfortable nonetheless, particularly when he came and stood next to her. Like her, he watched the games. Or at least pretended to.
    “You think Deverill’s such a hero,” he said, “but you don’t know the first thing about him, and you wouldn’t like it if you knew. I’m not the only young man he’s threatened. He does it all the time. He’s a bully.”
    Cassandra bit back an angry retort, fearing it would only make him worse.
    He sneered. “You don’t believe me,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes. You think I’m making it up, but I can soon prove it to you.” He never took his eyes off the game, but spoke to her in a low undertone. “Ask Deverill where he was last year, on the night your brother died.”
    “I know where he was. He was with Rupert.”
    He looked surprised. “So you know about that. I’m surprised he told you. I didn’t think he would. I thought he’d keep something like that to himself. But if that’s the case, I don’t know how you can bear to let him look at you. There’s no need to play the innocent,” he jeered, turning towards her. “You know what I mean. He can’t keep his eyes off you. He can’t keep his hands off you, either, I’ll be bound. You were a long time in the conservatory once I’d left. What were