“Yes.” She wasn’t sure if she had spoken it aloud. It was as if she had stood too quickly. She was light-headed and a trifle unsteady on her feet.Dizzyfrom the spinning, she thought to herself, and it felt like a lie.
“Let’s get you back to your chaperons, little bird.” Mr. Reeves offered his arm to her. When she tucked her hand into his arm, she was glad for the gloves to hide the moisture collecting in her palms. AndDear Lord, was sheshaking?When they returned to Aunt Valentine, both Matthew and Colonel Bishop stood on either side of her. Colonel Bishop looked displeased, though he made an effort to hide it. And Matthew? Matthew was…blank. He watched their approach with a flat expression. This wasFull-Mask Matthew,and there was no telling what he was thinking.
Jasmine was dumbstruck, uninterested—or perhaps unable—to hide her shock, or close her mouth, for that matter. Aunt Valentine’s eyes burned with a predatory determination that would need to be mitigated, but Cassandra could only focus on one problem at a time.
“Miss Cooper.” Mr. Reeves nodded to her, looked at the clock above them, met Colonel Bishop’s eyes deliberately, and stood next to Matthew. Promptly, Colonel Bishop stepped in front of her and blocked the other man from view.
“Lord Lincolnshire,” Colonel Bishop said finally. “May I take a turn about the room with your sister?”
She expected Matthew to not allow it. After their father died,Matthew refused Colonel Bishop’s request for courtship and forbade him from speaking to Cassandra ever again. How infuriated she had been. She had argued and pleaded with him to change his mind. But Matthew put his foot down and remained firm.
“If that’s what she wants.”
Cassandra’s mouth dropped open.
“Yes, of course,” the words came out of her mouth in a rush, and she felt like she was spinning in a whirlwind and all she could do was trudge forward.It didn’t mean anything. The plan hadn’t changed because of one waltz.
Colonel Bishop led her around the perimeter of the room with slow steps, and Cassandra felt more than saw that everyone wasstill staring. What a spectacle she must seem, what was it that Matthew said?No causing a scene. Would being in a tug-of-war with two men who hated each other count as a scene?
“That was a beautiful dance, Miss Cooper,” Colonel Bishop said once they were alone. “I can see that you haven’t lost your grace. An unwise choice in a partner, however.”
“A lady is not allowed to decline a dance,” Cassandra reminded him as diplomatically as she could without directly contradicting him, especially after the near brawl at dinner. “But I thank you for the compliment. Will you be asking me to dance, My Lord?”
“Not tonight.” He patted her hand. “I would hate to be the subject of your comparison. Perhaps another time, when I can have you all to myself.”
His expression was wolfish, but it didn’t have the effect on her it once might have. At the start of dinner, he was charismatic, and it appeared as if they would fall into the same rhythm. Flirtation with him was easy, but throughout dinner, he became increasingly bold with his actions. At one point, he placed his hand on her leg beneath the table. Overwhelmed in the moment, she hadn’t knownwhatto do.And so she had done nothing at all except flush miserably.
Cassandra knew a good deal about masks, and Colonel Bishop let his slip in a conversation where Mr. Reeves remained silent, deadly so, and she couldn’t decide which made her more nervous.
“I do wonder,” he mused, “how did your brother become associated with Mr. Reeves? I could have pointed him in a better direction if he were looking for cheap labor.”
“They attended Eton together,” Cassandra corrected. “They’ve maintained a friendship ever since.”
“So Mr. Reeves is close to your family, then?”
“If you can say spending each summer with us as close, then yes, I suppose he is. Closer now that Matthew moved him in—”
Colonel Bishop’s arm tensed.
“Moved him in?”
Cassandra floundered, but Colonel Bishop wasn’t giving her the chance to fix her mistake.
“I understand that your relationship with Mr. Reeves iscomplicated—”
“Oh, no, it really isn’t,” Cassandra said, too quickly and at a higher pitch than she had intended. No, this was a fire that would spread. Now there was no stopping it, and Colonel Bishop spoke the words that would permeate through the walls for the next seven days.
“He’s living in the same house as you.”
And the implication in the words rang louder than the orchestra:without a female chaperon.
“Temporarily! And in a room on the opposite side of the house. I honestly didn’t see much of him. He and Matthew practically lived in the barn.”
Colonel Bishop’s disdainful laugh chilled her fingertips and the surrounding air. “It’s true, then.”
“What’s funny?” She tried to maintain a polite tone, but she bristledat the direction of the conversation.
“Abarn.” He laughed again. “His Grace certainly wants to be entertained! I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your brother and hisbusiness associateare the court jesters of this competition, they don’t stand a chance.”
