Cassandra was not flattered by the attention she received, as she knew all too well from whence it came. Those various ladies so eager to find Miss Knightsbridge at their table only ever sought to put another feather in their cap. She was another thing to boast of, no more important than a new china set.
Racine took the chaos of the day in stride, pressing the cook to produce ever more tea and biscuits and announcing each card that arrived with such gravitas that he could trounce the prince’s own butler.
The only aspect of real amusement was the various encounters of May and those visitors newly arrived. While one might have expected a dog of that size to be banished to another part of the house, the dowager insisted that George stay and as May was his faithful follower, she must stay too. Cassandra had the distinct impression that the various small shrieks emanating from ladies viewing her darling beast for the first time entertained the dowager as much as herself.
Now, Racine had come into the drawing room again, card in hand, just when Cassandra had harbored high hopes of saying goodbye to the last of the callers.
“Viscount Hampton, my lady.”
Cassandra froze. Why should Lord Hampton come?
In a moment, she divined why. He wished to show all the world he was forgiven and that it had not been such a great crime after all.
The audacity of that man! All these people had turned up to use her for their own purposes, and here was one more. Here, in fact, was the worst of them.
Cassandra glanced at the dowager and then her aunt and shook her head no. If Lady Marksworth would not refuse him entry, she would leave herself. She would not help him along in his rehabilitation. She was very sorry that she must treat the dowager’s own grandson in such a manner, but she felt rather iron-willed about it.
The dowager picked up George and settled the dog in her lap. She said, “Quite right, Miss Knightsbridge. Bar the doors.”
Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief. Lady Marksworth nodded and said, “Do tell Lord Hampton that, unfortunately, we are not at home.”
The few callers remaining in the drawing room looked on, their expressions filled with fascination. Cassandra thought that was well. Despite the prince’s admonition to avoid gossip only the night before, they would talk of Lord Hampton’s refusal everywhere. It would be known that Miss Knightsbridge was not eager to reacquaint herself with the gentlemen of the pact.
*
Edwin brooded inhis study, while Havoc slowly and quietly shredded the pages of a book at his feet. He’d seen the dog stealthily take the book off a shelf and should have roused himself to rescue it, but he’d not had the will.
Lady Marksworth had refused him entry. She was not at home. He knew perfectly well that he’d been refused with his grandmother’s consent.
He’d not even meant to go, but somehow had been led there. First, it had been the idea of visiting Dalton so he might look out the window to Marksworth House.
Then, all of those carriages coming and going had seemed to beckon him. At that moment, Miss Knightsbridge was greeting people, just inside the doors.
He’d resolved to go over, though Dalton had done everything possible to stop him, including threatening to tie him to a chair.
Edwin had not been convinced that Miss Knightsbridge would even be civil to him, but hehadexpected to get inside.
And then, that butler of hers! Folding his arms like a potentate and seeming very satisfied that Lady Marksworth was not at home. He’d said, “Sadly, Lady Marksworth is not at home.” The man had said “sadly” as if he’d never been happier in his life. He supposed servants held all kinds of opinions, though he’d never considered the idea until he’d found himself a footman. Apparently, this butler had developed very firm opinions on those who had nearly ruined Miss Knightsbridge. He supposed he shouldn’t condemn the fellow, as he happened to be right.
All of these ideas prompted him to consider the rightness of attending Lady Blakeley’s dinner. The lady had fashioned it as a surprise, but would it not be more of an ambush?
Still, he did not see when else he might have the opportunity to speak with Miss Knightsbridge. He’d already become aware that numerous invitations had been issued to her that very pointedly excluded him and his friends. If he could not speak to her, he would never be able to even attempt to soften her views.
Those views, he knew, were hardened like lead at the moment. Though he’d placed himself nearby her as often as he could at Carlton House, he might have been an actual footman for all the notice she took of him.
He’d stared at her lovely hair, ignoring the butler attempting to direct him, while she kept her back turned. She’d acknowledged him no more than she would a fly beating against a glass.
*
With very fewexceptions, Cassandra had declined the dozens of invitations sent to her. She and the dowager had been through them together, Lady Marksworth happy to leave it in their hands and the dowager in agreement with Cassandra that she was not to be paraded about like a prize cow.
Though the dowager had approved of her attending Lady Blakeley’s dinner, she would not do so herself. She had arranged for a quiet evening of cards with some old friends and considered that vastly superior to a formal dinner.
Cassandra had broached the matter of the diamonds twice, certain they ought to be removed from the dress and returned to the lady. The dowager would not hear of it, rather, she said that every woman should have some sort of stockpile of her own. That way, no matter the winds of fate, she would not find herself entirely without means. The dowager had kept her own cache of jewels in a locked case throughout her marriage, in case her lord made one speculation too many and they found themselves fleeing to the continent to escape the debt. Cassandra was to remove the diamond encrusted overlay and tuck it away somewhere safe, as her own little bank against financial difficulties.
Cassandra still could not feel it was right, but faced with the lady’s fortitude on the subject, she’d personally wrapped the overlay in paper and stored it away. There would be time in future to determine what to do.
Now, she was dressed in a charming pale pink silk with the palest overlay of blue gauze giving the skirt a lovely lilac color. Earlier, Peggy had begun to suggest the yellow satin dress but had stopped herself when she noted her mistress’s expression. Cassandra thought she had learned more than one thing from the dowager, she had finally learned how to quell her maid.
