His Loving Deception: A story of seduction, betrayal, and unforgivable secrets by Clare Connelly

Author:Clare Connelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Publisher: Clare Connelly
Published: 2014-05-19T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Benedict looked anxiously towards the revolving glass door for the hundredth time in the twenty minutes he’d been waiting. Dinner with Peter, Alyssia and Cassandra had seemed like an innocuous enough idea at the time. But that had been before he’d slept with her yesterday. Since then, his world had been plunged into disarray as he’d tried to filter through the conundrum of feelings that were confusing his usually razor sharp precision. It had all been so much simpler when he’d believed every word that Alyssia had told him. Now, having seen Cassandra’s spirited description of Peter’s actions after the first Duchess Hervey’s untimely death, he was not so sure he had been right to involve himself.

A small spark of memory fired in his brain. Something his cousin had mentioned years ago, when she had first married Peter. He frowned now, trying to remember the vague sentence that had, at the time, been of little interest to him. Something about the manner of Cassandra’s mother’s death. Yes, he recalled her words now, and they took on a new significance. One night, when he had visited the Manor, Alyssia had confided in him that all was not as it had seemed with Cassandra’s mother and father. She had intimated that her death had in fact been avoidable.

His frown deepened. With those instincts that had always served him well in business, he fixed Peter firmly with the full force of his gaze. “Peter,” he interrupted firmly. “How did your first wife die?”

Alyssia’s hand flew to her throat in discomfort. “Ben,” her voice shook a little, as she gave her husband a look filled with compassion. “It’s not something Peter likes to discuss.”

“He will have to put his own comfort aside for the moment,” Benedict pushed aside his cousin’s concern as though it were nothing. “I believe that there are some details Cassandra isn’t aware of. Am I correct?”

Peter’s ruddy complexion took on a sheen. “Now wait just a minute!” He said gruffly. “I’ve only just come to see her again after a lengthy absence. Before that, she was too much a child to know the full truth.”

“And what, pray tell, is the truth?” Benedict intoned flatly, alarm bells going off in his brain.

Alyssia’s nod to her husband was curt. “You can trust him, Peter. Benedict has no interest in rocking the apple cart. He won’t tell Cassandra if you ask him not to.”

Benedict Savarin had learned long ago not to make promises that couldn’t be kept, so he said nothing. His eyes on Peter were flinty, his gaze direct. Peter squirmed a little under it, but he heaved out a belligerent sigh and then began to speak. “Miranda – Cassandra’s mother – was having an affair.” His thin lips thinned further still. “I didn’t know about it until the funeral. The man came to me, attempting to extort money.” His eyes clouded over with remorse. “I’ve been a proud man, all my life. Too proud. I realise now I didn’t deal with it as I could have.

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