“Ah, but that is youth, is it not? Mistakes are made, judgments are faulty. It is only with age that one can reflect back and see it was all a lot of nonsense. If only one could comprehend it at the time, there would be far less heartache in the world.”
Cassandra had the uncomfortable feeling that the Dowager no longer referred to her father. She felt the Dowager attempted to tell her that the uncomfortable situation she found herself in now would fade with time. That when she was older, it would not seem as significant. She did not know if that were true, but it seemed impossible that she would ever look upon this period of her life with any sort of equanimity.
*
The many lettersthe dowager and her secretary shot off descended upon London and its environs like a flock of birds settling on tree branches. All those who had been swayed by Lady Montague had initially fallen to her wishes because they perceived her as powerful. Lady Montague had been thoroughly trumped by the Dowager Duchess of Carlisle.
As often happens with the downtrodden, those who had acquiesced to Lady Montague’s demands harbored a deep resentment over it. Now, having been given leave to overthrow those earlier forced opinions and a shield to hide behind by way of the dowager, they took full advantage of it.
The talk in various drawing rooms generally unfolded as, “I was never really convinced of the story, you know. It seemed a bit too contrived.”
“Indeed! And now that I hear the real circumstances, it bears the ring of truth.”
“To think, Miss Knightsbridge saved the dowager’s life! I would not go in for my own daughter picking up a fowling piece, but nevertheless…”
“Yes, nevertheless.”
There were, perhaps, only a handful of people in England whose judgments went absolutely unquestioned—the Dowager Duchess of Carlisle’s were one of those. It was generally accepted that Miss Knightsbridge had been wronged, and while unusual that she shot birds, that skillhadsaved the dowager.
Equally interesting to thetonwas the role the gentlemen of the pact had played. There was outrage and caution. Every mama was torn—on the one hand, those gentlemen remained eminently eligible. On the other, did they dare allow a daughter to fall victim to them? Miss Knightsbridge had been fortunate that the dowager had stepped in on her behalf. Would another girl be so lucky?
If the gentlemen of the pact had been stared at before, it was nothing compared to what they experienced now.
Lord Dalton took himself off to the seaside. Lord Cabot conveniently decided to visit his family’s estate in Scotland. Lord Grayson was suddenly inspired to visit an old aunt in Sussex. Lord Ashworth remained in London, but removed himself to a notorious gambler’s house, so he might direct all his efforts to gaming rather than dancing.
It was only Lord Hampton and Lord Lockwood who stood firm. Lord Lockwood felt a peculiar need to attempt to explain himself to those he encountered, in particular, Miss Knightsbridge’s friend Lady Sybil. That the explanation did not suit the lady, he should have known. Though, he’d been rather surprised when she said that if she were a man, she’d challenge him to a duel.
Lord Hampton made the rounds to bolster the dowager’s claims. While he had not been believed when he’d first owned the deed, he was believed now. He got the feeling that had he not been in line for a dukedom, many a hostess would have thrown him out on his ear.
Still, he did not care much for that. He only waited to hear from his grandmother the news from Surrey.
All of the gentlemen of the pact, though choosing to take different routes at that particular moment, had waited with dread to hear from their fathers. It was impossible that the old men remained unaware of what had transpired. There was even the suggestion that they’d all arrived to London. And yet, the silence was deafening.
Edwin felt it was rather like waiting for the ax to fall. He did not know when, but fall it would.
*
Cassandra was inthe drawing room, watching with mirth as George took May’s favorite blanket and dragged it around the floor with an air of superiority. Poor May appeared helpless in the face of this gambit. Though both dogs must be aware of their relative sizes, George’s bold determination and out-sized confidence had overcome the giant mastiff at every turn. He’d gleefully lie down in the middle of May’s sofa, and May would squeeze to one side rather than pick up the Pomeranian by the scruff of the neck and throw him off, as she was perfectly capable of doing. George would find the sunniest spot on the carpet and stretch out his full length, lest May find any bit of sunshine to warm herself. George regularly stole a biscuit off the tea tray, a crime May would never dream of committing, and then gleefully chewed it up while staring into the mastiff’s eyes. George had become the master of the house and May served at his pleasure.
Cassandra heard the clatter of horses on the drive and walked to the window. She was escorted by both May and George, George muscling his way past May to jump on the sofa for a better view.
A fine coach emblazoned with a coat of arms in gold had stopped at the door. Cassandra took a sharp breath. A lion and a unicorn—it was the royal coat of arms.
What on earth?
Before she could speculate on why such a vehicle would have come up their drive, she remembered the dowager. Of course the lady was connected everywhere and would be well-known to the Prince Regent.
But goodness! Were they to have a royal visitor? Maidencraft would collapse in a heap over it.
The door to the carriage opened, but the only person to emerge was an exceedingly tall and elegantly attired footman.
The young man made his way to the door. Cassandra noted the hint of surprise in Maidencraft’s voice when he opened it and viewed what had arrived on the doorstep. If Cassandra hoped for anything further she was disappointed—no sooner had the footman got out of the coach but he was back in it again and the carriage clattered away.
Maidencraft entered the drawing room bearing a silver tray. He appeared pale, as she would have expected him to after encountering a royal carriage so near to his person.
He walked toward her and Cassandra said, “The dowager is in the library. Surely you might interrupt her to deliver the letter? I am sure she would not mind it.”
Maidencraft cleared his throat and looked about and finally said, “It is addressed to you, Miss Cassandra.”
