Cassandra was gratified by the dowager’s view but could not help continuing to wonder why the lady had come. “Pray, ma’am,” she said, “has your visit been long planned?”
“You mean, does your father know I am set to descend upon his house? He does not. But then, he’s made the mistake of repeatedly writing that I should come any time. Any time, it appears, has arrived.”
Cassandra’s mind raced at all that should be done to accommodate a duchess. A room was not even ready!
“Miss Knightsbridge,” the dowager said, “I would dislike having any mystery or words hanging unsaid between us. I am certain you will have guessed I come in response to your father’s letter about what has befallen you, and my grandson’s hand in it.”
Cassandra nodded, but that was all she could muster for an answer.
“I might wax on about my fury, or what fury I heaped upon my grandson’s head, or how sorry he is about the whole thing, but none of that would be particularly helpful to you.”
At the mention of Lord Hampton, Cassandra found she could not keep her emotions in check. Each day that passed had seen her rage harden it into something vengeful. And yet, underneath her anger was still a yearning she worked to stamp out.
She said, “Itisrather helpful, Ma’am, to know that somebody has heaped fury upon him. For myself, I have begun the habit of imagining the clay balls I shoot out of the sky are your grandson’s head.”
Cassandra instantly regretted her words. So far, the dowager had been kind, but if she were forced to side one way or the other, of course she must side with her grandson. Images of him being shot out of the sky could not be welcome.
Rather than appear annoyed, the dowager laughed heartily. “As well you should, and as well I would if I were you. Fire away, Miss Knightsbridge, if it brings you any sense of satisfaction. However, I think of enacting a scheme which you may find more satisfying than that.”
Cassandra looked with interest at the dowager, and then tried not to laugh upon noticing George appeared just as interested—ears up and unblinking.
“I speak of bringing you back to London in triumph, my dear. And, as if my little scheme was not wonderful enough, I may now add that Miss Knightsbridge, through her uncommonly good sense, has saved my life and my jewels.”
Though Cassandra was gratified that the dowager took such an interest in her, she could not wish for any scheme enacted upon her behalf.
“I would rather not return to London under any circumstances, ma’am,” Cassandra said. “It is a poisonous place.”
The dowager patted her hand and said, “Well, we’ll talk about it.”
*
To say thatthe viscount was surprised by the Dowager’s arrival had been an understatement. However, her father never stayed in a shocked state for long and so quickly recovered himself.
It was Maidencraft who was nearly struck down by the news. Cassandra could sympathize—had their stalwart butler been apprised in advance, all manner of preparations would have been made. As it was, he’d sent maids running one way and footmen another to patch things together as best they could.
Mayhem, always ready for any new development, stared fascinated at the little Pomeranian that had trotted in behind the dowager as she entered the house. George, always conscious of his diminutive size and determined that it should not be held against him, had marched up to May and growled ferociously.
May was both delighted and amused and placated her new friend by throwing herself on the floor and rolling on her back. George, having been satisfied that he was to be in charge, wagged his tail.
After seeing that the dogs got on well and tea would be sent in, Cassandra had excused herself from the drawing room so her father and the dowager might speak privately.
The dowager waited for Jimmy to close the door behind him. She poured tea for the viscount and said, “Never in all my years did I think my own grandson would cause damage to your daughter. I am sorry for it and I am determined to rectify it.”
The viscount took his tea and said, “It was no fault of yours.”
“Perhaps not, though I wonder if I did enough to guide him, that he would have fallen into such a situation. Did you know he is in love with her?”
The viscount set his teacup down with a clatter. “What?”
“It is true,” the dowager said, “and he wishes to marry her. From what I can gather, he initially fooled himself into thinking he did his duty by marriage. That it would atone for what he’d done. But, as it happens, he’s quite smitten.”
“The marriage would restore Cassandra to her rightful place,” the viscount said slowly.
“Indeed so,” the dowager said, “though she’ll never agree to it. Not yet, at least. Did you know she shoots his head off for target practice?”
The viscount laughed despite himself. “I did not, but I cannot claim to be surprised by it.”
“She is furious, and rightly so,” the dowager said. “I do not know if there is a possibility of feelings on her side, but I do know there is no room for love when one seethes.”
