“Three months!”
Betrayal dug the pointed tip of its blade into Cassandra’s heart. She had confided in Rosamund, spoken about the lord’s reluctance to set a wedding date. Rosamund had smiled and offered words of comfort and reassurance. Had given her every reason to believe she cared.
“Is that why you suggested I might be better suited to someone other than Timothy?” She turned her attention to the deceitful lord sprawled on the dusty boards. “And you professed to love me. You pretended to be above those obsessed with the sins of the flesh. Why agree to marry me if you were in love with someone else?”
“Surely you know the answer,” Rosamund said feebly, speaking on the lord’s behalf as if they were already a married couple. “You agreed to marry Timothy despite the fact you were in love with Mr Cavanagh.”
Cassandra’s temper eased upon hearing the truth. “Because my father gave me no option, and because I thought I had lost the love of my life.”
“We wanted to tell you,” Rosamund said, sniffing back tears, “but we didn’t want to hurt you. So many times, I have wanted to confess. Love makes people do reckless things.”
“Love?” Benedict gave a mocking snort. “Murray suggested Cassandra might become his mistress now she’s married. Does that sound like love to you?”
Rosamund’s eyes grew wide. “You must have misunderstood.” She shook her head. “We’re in love and will marry as soon as Timothy persuades his mother to agree.”
The oaf on the floor remained silent.
“Lady Murray will never agree. Murray knows that.” Benedict grabbed the poor excuse of a man by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Tell her about your ridiculous spending habit. Tell her that your mother wishes you to marry Miss Pendleton. That money will be your only motivation when you marry. Tell her you had a hand in my wife’s ruination so you could marry a lady whose father is generous with his purse.”
“How many more times do you want me to tell you?” Lord Murray protested. “I had nothing to do with what happened to Cassandra.”
Rosamund gripped the coverlet and straightened. “Does Mr Cavanagh speak the truth? Does your mother want you to marry Miss Pendleton?”
“Well, yes, she suggested Miss Pendleton might be a good match,” Lord Murray said with some exasperation. “But I intend to persuade her otherwise.”
The man was lying through his teeth.
“If you had nothing to do with my abduction, what were you doing here at the Oxford Arms on the night in question?” Someone had watched over her before depositing her in Hyde Park. “Whoever kidnapped me held me captive for hours before executing their plan. We have witnesses claiming your mother bundled me into a carriage.” Anger surfaced again at the thought of her mistreatment. “You drugged my lemonade. You stayed at the ball so you would have an alibi.”
“That’s ridiculous, all conjecture.”
“The Marquis of Blackbeck saw you enter this establishment in the early hours,” Benedict snapped, “and will claim so publicly.” With a claw-like grip, he grabbed Lord Murray by the throat. “I’ll have your confession if it’s the last thing I do.”
The lord croaked as his face turned beetroot red.
“Wait!” Rosamund cried. “Timothy met me here that night. I managed to escape my father’s house and hired a hackney. So you see, he had nothing to do with the kidnapping.”
Despite Rosamund’s plea, Benedict refused to release the lord. “Then you acted as his accomplice. You both kept Cassandra here and waited for dawn to approach. Lady Murray played her part because she thought her son wanted an excuse to marry Miss Pendleton and knew nothing of his affair with you. You helped him ruin the lady you called your friend.”
Murray punched Benedict’s arm as he gasped for air.
“No! Let him go!” Rosamund came up on her knees while clutching the coverlet. She focused her frantic gaze on Cassandra. “I tried
to help you. I did the only thing I could when I learned of their wicked plot.”
The world stopped.
Cassandra’s heart missed multiple beats.
Every bone in her body stiffened as Rosamund’s words took shape in her mind. More lies. More treachery. More deceit.
Benedict released the hypocritical lord, and Murray collapsed to his knees and heaved. “You had better tell us everything you know else you will rue the day you ever met me.”
Tears sprang in Rosamund’s eyes. Guilt marred her pretty features. “Timothy spoke the truth when he said he knew nothing of what happened.” She dashed the water from her eyes. “On the night of Lord Craven’s ball, after you’d gone to rest in the retiring room, I took the opportunity to meet Timothy in the library.”
“You mean you used my illness to your advantage.”
“We stole every available moment to spend time together.”