Chapter 69
She stood near a shelf filled to the brim with leather-bound books and forced herself to remain still.
Her heart had begun beating faster as her body hummed with anticipation.
She had thought this through already, had considered every weakness in her argument, every advantage she possessed and every advantage he possessed over her.
She knew what she was offering. More importantly, she knew what she wanted in return.
Footsteps sounded somewhere along the corridor and she straightened in preparation.
The sound drew closer.
Unable to wait a second, she walked across the room and opened the door just enough to peer through the gap to ensure it was him. Before she knew what she was doing, her gaze collided with intense dark blue eyes.
Draven was heading this way, her note clutched in his fist. If only she could tell what he was thinking.
Channeling confidence she certainly did not feel, she opened the door wider and beckoned him inside. Hopelessly, she wondered if there was anything else she could do in this situation where she was woefully inept. It wasn’t everyday she went about propositioning men, certainly not men like the duke.
He paused before entering, his expression a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
Cassandra locked the door behind him. She swore she saw his right eye twitch when she curtsied before him, lips flattening in displeasure.
She never curtsied before him, not since she began to see him as a dear friend. But after coming back three years in the past, she had admittedly done things to widen the gap between them.
"Your Grace, I assume you read my note." Why else would he come all this way to find her?
"I did." He replied.
"Good." She moved toward the centre of the library, hoping he followed.
Suspicion still shone in his eyes but his long legs were already moving before he even registered the action. Driven by his burning curiosity, he doubted he would be able to simply walk away now without learning why she summoned him there.
"I have a proposition for you. One that you will find agreeable and mutually beneficial." She was saying when she suddenly halted, causing him to nearly barrel into her.
She turned around to glance up at him, looking fiercely determined.
"I want you to take me off the marriage mart. For that to happen we have to wed."
For once, Draven appeared genuinely speechless.
She allowed him a moment to digest all that before continuing.
"Not permanently, of course. Just for two years."
His brows rose, suspicion melting into skepticism.
Women didn’t propose marriage to men, it simply wasn’t done. She feared she may have shocked his delicate sensibilities.
This was certainly the most emotion she had ever seen him display.
"Two years?" He echoed, checking to make sure he heard her correctly the first time.
"Two years during which I would serve as your wife in every capacity society expects of a duchess. I would bear your name, stand beside you publicly and give you the benefit of my position as the queen’s advisor. I will also help you pass your inheritance bill. In return, I want every privilege afforded to the duchess of Norham, your name and the influence that accompanies it."
That caught his attention.
Cassandra continued before he could interrupt.
"You have already discovered how difficult it will be to overcome the traditionalist councilors who oppose your bill. I believe I can help you achieve the success you have thus far failed to attain, particularly because I understand how deeply personal it is to you."
Draven studied her with what she could only interpret as disbelief. But he was also intrigued
"And if you cannot do it?" He asked, already thinking steps ahead. "What happens to this arrangement when you find it difficult to fulfill your end of the bargain?"
For whatever reason, he was indulging her and she took it as a good sign.
"Then I will give you another solution to your problem. I will give you an heir to fix that pesky problem you have with your cousin" She swallowed nervously. There, she said it. The words were out now and there was no taking them back now. "With a legitimate child, your cousin’s position becomes irrelevant. If the law remains unchanged, you will still have a son to inherit what is yours."
Draven’s expression had become unreadable.
Cassandra held his gaze.
"I have considered the risks. I know precisely what I am doing. I am offering you an arrangement from which we can both benefit."
She would not tell him how long she had spent thinking about it.
She did not tell him how many times she had questioned whether she was making the greatest mistake of her life and she hoped he couldn’t see through her confident facade.
Cassandra remained where she was even as Draven took a slow step toward her, then another.
Eventually, she was forced to retreat. He followed without thinking, matching every step she took with one of his own. Each time she moved back, he advanced, until the solid wood of the bookshelf met her spine.
She let out an outraged squawk at the position she found herself in, most undignified.
He had held her attention so completely that she failed to notice how little space remained between them until she felt the hard surface behind her.
The distance between them narrowed until she could feel the heat radiating off him, making it almost impossible for her to retreat into the deep recesses of her mind. And Draven seemed quite pleased about it.
"You have thought this through rather thoroughly," he murmured.
"I would not have proposed it otherwise." She responded. Everything else she could have said promptly evaporated into mist when he fixed that arresting gaze on her.
He was moving closer still, until the space between them seemed almost nonexistent.
It was bad enough that they were alone together, but if anyone discovered them now, with Draven effectively trapping her between himself and the bookshelf, the rumor mill would be relentless.
She didn’t know what brought about this change in him.
Even now Cassandra could feel the faint stir of his breath against her skin and with a huff, she realized he was enjoying himself.
Beneath his obvious amusement was something warmer and far more dangerous.
"And if we try for a son and find ourselves blessed with daughters instead," he murmured, lowering his head until they were almost sharing the same breath, "what then? Do I get to keep you with me until we finally succeed?"