Chapter 70
She was nervous. He made her nervous.
After her execution, she knew nothing about them would remain the same.
Cassandra opened her mouth to answer, but the reply she had prepared never made it past her lips.
For one rather humiliating moment, she could think of nothing at all.
She expected resistance from him. She expected him to pepper her with multiple questions, she expected a refusal that would require her to convince him of the merits of the arrangement.
She had spent days anticipating every reasonable objection he might have and preparing a rebuttal for each of them.
She had not prepared for Draven to turn her own proposal back on her.
The faint curve at the corner of his mouth suggested that he had noticed her struggling and like an evil wretch, he was relishing it.
"Nothing to say?" He asked, and it was very much a taunt.
Cassandra finally found her voice.
"I was merely considering your question." She lifted her chin indignantly. "Now step a few paces back, Your Grace. This is no way to treat a lady."
"Does my nearness bother you?" The smirk he gave her was roguish enough to send women’s hearts aflutter. "How are we to stay wed and produce an heir if my closeness alone upsets you?"
Was he teasing her?
It was so beyond her realm of possibility that Cassandra could only stare at him, lips parted in shock. She didn’t know he had it in him. Even while they were still on friendly terms, Draven was still quite reserved.
"No, Your Grace. Your nearness doesn’t bother me." Lie. She straightened, determined to recover the composure she lost because of him and she tried her best to not glare at him in the process.
"As for your earlier question, it does not alter the terms of the arrangement. I will do my absolute best to get that bill passed so we don’t have to bother with children at all."
He wasn’t satisfied with her response but with his smirk still in place, it was hard to tell.
His gaze lingered upon her face, and Cassandra was acutely aware of how close he still stood.
She had known Draven for years. She had spoken with him countless times before, sat with him at council meetings and at several social functions. Yet there had always been a certain distance between them, some invisible boundary neither had ever thought to cross.
Tonight, he seemed to have forgotten it existed. Or perhaps he simply decided that, if they were going to embark upon this strange arrangement, there was no reason to preserve it.
Cassandra’s heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain he could hear it.
"I have drafted a contract," she said, reaching for safer ground. "Every term is clearly outlined. The duration of the marriage, our respective obligations, the arrangements concerning property and—"
"Tell me why you want to be my duchess."
Cassandra bristled. She didn’t know why. Perhaps it was their alarming proximity, the deep rumble of his voice that was strangely pleasing to the ears, or his use of the phrase ’my duchess’. More likely, it was the combination of all three.
"You were hardly my first choice," she sniffed. "I would have been perfectly content with a Marquess or even a Count."
The lie sounded unconvincing even to her, so she seriously doubted that he believed it either.
Withholding information this early would do little to earn his trust, and for her plan to succeed, she needed him to trust her enough to sign the marriage contract.
So she released a long breath and finally told him the truth.
"I had a rather unpleasant experience recently. My family tried to marry me off to a man I had never even met. They laced my tea with something and tried to force me into the marriage against my will." She averted her gaze. If she stared into his eyes now, she was frightened by what she might see there. "It was humiliating. Terrifying, even, to have my choices taken from me as though they meant nothing. I never want to be that helpless again. If I am already married, they cannot force another match upon me. And as a duchess, I will have enough power to make every person who played a part in hurting me answer for it. Do you understand now?"
His fingers were warm against her skin as he gently caught her chin and tilted her face upward, compelling her to look at him.
Still, she stubbornly kept her eyes lowered.
"Yes. I understand now," he said, his voice rough as gravel.
At last, she raised her gaze, and what she saw in his eyes startled her. Anger burned there, fierce and unmistakable, but it was not directed at her.
It was directed at them.
At her family. At the people who had taken advantage of her helplessness.
He was furious on her behalf.
He was on her side.
And without ever saying the words, he had offered himself as her ally in the war she intended to wage against her family.
What was this feeling unfurling in her chest? It seemed bigger than mere gratitude.
She had never truly lost her friend. He was exactly as she remembered him—loyal, understanding, and steadfast as ever. He had not changed, not in any way that mattered.
Yet that only made his betrayal harder to understand. If he was still the same dear friend she had always known, why had he abandoned her to her doomed fate when she needed him most? None of it made sense.
"You may have your solicitor examine the contract. I have no objection to communicating through him if that makes matters easier. If there is anything you wish to alter, we can negotiate the terms before either of us agrees to anything."
"I’m not against your offer." He said once she was done.
Cassandra’s brows rose in disbelief. "You aren’t?"
"No. I’m quite looking forward to it in fact. The arrangement itself is not the problem."