*
Cassandra had beenin her dressing gown when the Dowager had entered her bedchamber. She’d been followed by Clara, carrying her dress wrapped in paper. Her maid Peggy had been sent elsewhere, as the Dowager found her an irritating sort of person.
“Now, my dear,” the Dowager said, “we have a gown truly befitting you.”
Clara laid the dress on the bed and unfolded the paper.
Cassandra took in a sharp breath. The gown was not materially changed from what it had been, with one striking exception. Small diamonds cut in an unusual square shape had been affixed by crosses of silver thread to a white gauze overlay. It sparkled in the candlelight like all the stars in the sky.
“Duchess!” Cassandra cried. “How can it be? I could not accept—”
“Of course you can accept my modest little changes,” the dowager said.
“But those are not real—”
“My late husband was an interesting gentleman and made many investments I found bizarre, certain he should ruin us. The one investment I never quibbled over was a diamond mine in Brazil. It has given me an endless supply of jewels and I have even employed a jeweler who invents new cuts. I’m very fond of this square cut.”
“It is far too valuable…”
“Trust me to have the sense to know where my own diamonds should go. Now, dear Miss Knightsbridge, it is time to dress for the most important ball of your life.”
Chapter Sixteen
As Cassandra rodein the carriage toward Carlton House, she felt almost in a dreamlike state. It was as if she existed somehow distant from those around her. Her dress sparkled in the darkness and all she could think of was that she sat on enough diamonds to buy her father’s estate.
The dowager very kindly held her hand, her father was a comfort across from her, and her aunt nodded, as if to say, “All will be well.”
Sybil and her parents followed behind in their own carriage and Cassandra occasionally glanced out the window to assure herself that they had not become separated.
Carlton House was lit like blazes from within, though the drive itself was only illuminated by a few torches. Cassandra could see a cadre of footman waiting at the ready in the dim light. She took a long, deep breath. The moment she had been wishing speedily gone had now speedily come.
The horses came to a halt, the door opened, and the steps were let down. The dowager was helped out first and Cassandra heard the lady say, “Quite fitting.”
Lady Marksworth went out next, and Cassandra was certain she heard her aunt whisper, “Goodness.”
As Cassandra took the footman’s hand to descend the steps, a deep voice said, “Miss Knightsbridge.”
Cassandra would have known that voice anywhere, and yet she must be confused. She glanced up at the footman as she stepped onto the drive.
It seemed as if all the air in the world had vanished and there was nothing left to breathe. The footman was Lord Hampton.
She said nothing, as she was incapable of words. Why was the lord dressed in livery?
As her father exited the carriage, Cassandra noticed the line of footmen standing stiffly on the drive. All six of the gentlemen of the pact were in livery.
Was it a joke? Was there some further joke to be played against Miss Knightsbridge?
In an instant, Cassandra realized it was not so. She remembered questioning the dowager about whether the lords would attend. The lady had been very precise in her answer—they would not be guests. Then, when the dowager had seen her grandson dressed as a servant she’d said, “Quite fitting.”
This was no joke on her, it was a punishment for the gentlemen.
Cassandra was not certain what she thought of it. She was at once pitying of their ridiculous state, and not at all sorry for them. Perhaps it was well they feel the sort of sting they had been so careless to inflict on others. She supposed itwouldsting—their dignity was just now thrown to the four winds.
“My dear?” the viscount said, holding out his arm, “shall we go in?”
Cassandra shakily took her father’s arm, realizing he would have no way to know that these footmen were the very men who’d caused his daughter so much grief. She did not know what other shocks might be ahead of her, but she would soon find it out.
The distinguished butler of Carlton House, a man starched from head to toe, announced them with all the pomp that only a royal household could carry off. Before her stood the Prince Regent and a line of six formidable-looking gentlemen that could only be the dukes.
