Snowbound With The Baronet by Deborah Hale Page A

altered so much since then that he found it hard to believe only twenty-four hours had passed.
    After his recent trek through the snow, he had serious doubts they would be going their separate ways any time soon. Trying to forget their past connection was not a workable solution if they were to remain snowbound together for much longer. A more sensible course might be to face their past with the benefit of hindsight and greater maturity. Perhaps if they could talk over what had happened between them, and acknowledge its effects on their hearts and their lives, they could truly put it behind them once and for all.
    He ignored a tempting whisper in the back of his mind that questioned whether an older and wiser Lady Cassandra might regard him more favorably than the headstrong debutante of four years ago. He had learned his lesson. Once bitten, twice shy, as the saying went. Her rejection had dealt his heart a wound that had taken longer than expected to heal. He could not afford to risk another.
    He entered the kitchen, expecting to find Cassandra bustling about to keep herself occupied. Instead he discovered her sitting at the table with her face buried in her folded arms. For an instant he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. After all, she had risen very early that morning.
    Then her shoulders heaved and a silent shudder ran through her willowy frame. The sight of her weeping demolished all Brandon’s sensible intentions. A pair of powerful, invisible hands seemed to tighten around his throat. The only way to break their hold was to do anything in his power to relieve her distress.
    He covered the distance between them in two swift strides and knelt beside her. Caution warned that the last time he’d gone down on his knees in her presence, it had not ended well. But its bleating alarm was drowned out by a roar of concern for Cassandra.
    The sound of his footsteps made her glance up just as he reached her. She gave a violent start at the sight of him. But when he opened his arms, she did not shrink from him. Instead, she flung herself into his embrace, her head pressed against his shoulder.
    In that instant, every particle of tension that had built up inside of Brandon over the past four years seemed to melt away. The throttling grip around his throat released and he drew his first truly easy breath in a very long while.
    “There now,” he whispered, savoring the silken caress of her hair against his cheek. “What is the matter? What can I do to help?”
    “N-nothing.” All the tension that had bled out of Brandon seemed to soak into Cassandra and crystallize. She pulled away as abruptly as she had thrown herself at him, but not before Brandon inhaled her scent into the deepest recesses of his lungs. “I don’t know what came over me.”
    She dashed the tears from her eyes as if she despised herself for giving in to them. “Perhaps I am overtired. I began thinking of my sisters and how worried they will be about me, especially Viola. I wish I could get a message to them that I am safe.”
    Brandon recalled Cassandra’s gentle, fair-haired sister whom many considered the beauty of the Whitney family. Much as he admired the lady, he could not agree.
    “I suppose Lady Viola must be married now.” He took out his handkerchief and offered it to Cassandra. “Did Lord Gilchrist secure her or did she make a better match?”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Cassandra seized his handkerchief and dried her eyes with it. In answer to his question, she shook her head. “My sister is not married.”
    The information puzzled Brandon but the lady’s tone did not encourage further inquiry.
    Instead a different question burst out before he could prevent it. “Are you certain it was only the thought of your sisters that upset you? You looked troubled when I spoke about the war earlier. Forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I should have held my tongue.”
    “No, you should not!” She glanced up at Brandon through her lush