“They are fresh from the bay. Although Arturo is quite outspoken in his disdain of New York, he does admit that the variety of fish is remarkable.”
Cassie sipped at her wine, suspecting that the earl had laced it with laudanum. She gazed about the cabin, her body lulled by the wine and the gentle rocking of the yacht.
“How odd,” she said aloud, “that one’s perspective can shift so dramatically. This cabin is exquisite. I did not remember it this way.”
“Both the captain and his cabin are pleased at your new perspective, Cassandra. How does your shoulder feel?”
“I fear, my lord, that you must be disappointed. I am strong as a horse, you know, and the wound is trifling. But you must keep your word—you must wait a full two days before you thrash me.”
“If I do not have to treat you as an invalid, cara, then I fancy I shall discover equally pleasurable pursuits to fill my time until I can, in good conscience, bare your bottom.”
She felt a quiver of pleasure and a rosy flush rose to her cheeks. She looked down at his strong hands as he deftly peeled an orange.
“I have not had an orange in a long time,” she said.
He handed her a section and sat back in his chair, watching her nibble delicately.
“When do we leave New York?”
He was silent for some moments, gazing at her intently.
“Is there orange juice on my chin?”
“No. You asked me this morning, Cassandra, to take you home. I must ask you if you meant what you said.”
“Given the circumstances, my lord, I can hardly believe you would doubt me.”
Again, he fell silent. Cassie felt suddenly uncertain. “You no longer wish to wed me?”
“I have never before offered you the choice, Cassandra. Now I find that I must. Would you, you adorable girl, you most exquisite creature in all of England—and the colonies—do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
Cassie pursed her lips, stifling laughter at his flowery delivery. It was odd, she thought, but she preferred him to be overbearing. He was easier to deal with that way.
She said matter-of-factly, “If you do not wed me, I shall have to gullet you and throw your miserable body in the bay.”
“In that case, to save my wretched hide, I shall fetch a discreet parson on the morrow. Is that soon enough for you?”
“I suppose that it must be,” she said. “But be warned, my lord. I will have you leg-shackled by tomorrow noon, else you will be the worse for it.”
It suddenly occurred to her that all her clothing was still at Edward’s lodgings. “Oh dear,” she wailed, “I have nothing to wear. This dressing gown would hardly be appropriate.”
He rose slowly and walked over to the armoire. He flung open the doors. “I think, my dear, that all you need is right here.”
“I don’t think you ever doubted my answer for an instant.” She made to rise, to go to him, but found to her chagrin that she weaved where she stood.
“Drunk again,” he said, shaking his head. “I believe the best place for you, my love, is in bed.” He yawned prodigiously. “Do you mind if I join you? It has been a long, quite fatiguing day.”
“But we are not yet married, my lord.”
“True.”
“And my shoulder is paining me terribly.”
“I shall be very careful of it.”
He laughed, a deep, satisfied laugh and scooped her up into his arms. She clung to him when he set her upon the bed.
“Madam, you cannot seduce me unless you allow me to remove these damned clothes.”