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The Naval Attaché’s wife, resplendent in purple, swept into the room with warm greetings for her hostess. Cassandra felt confused as she was followed rapidly by a group of four ladies of similar age and bearing, all equally agog to hear the reason for this intriguing summons.
Cassandra took advantage of the noise of greetings and the rustle of silk gowns to seat herself more comfortably in her hiding place. Godmama had suggested she observe the beginning of the tea party to ensure their stories matched. It would also be far less intimidating to meet these influential ladies, all pillars of the English community in Vienna, after observing them for a while without being observed herself.
Once the introductions to Miss Fox had been made and the tea tray brought in, Lady Lydford cut across the individual murmurs of conversation. ‘Ladies, I have to confess I have asked you here with an ulterior motive.’
‘We suspected as much.’ The oldest lady present, Mrs Spencer, wagged her folded fan in a knowing way. ‘Your note contained such a hint of mystery I immediately cancelled an engagement at a picnic.’
‘You may have been surprised that my cousin, Miss Fox, has not been out in Society since her arrival last week.’
‘We assumed you were indisposed by the journey, my dear Miss Fox,’ the Ambassador’s wife remarked. ‘Personally, I am always prostrated by the shortest journey. You are quite a heroine to set forth on such an arduous one alone.’
‘Ah, but I was not alone,’ said Araminta primly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.
There was a moment’s silence, but Cassandra could almost feel the suppressed excitement in the high-ceilinged salon. Now, they were thinking, now we come to the scandal.
‘Some of you may be acquainted with Lord Offley, or at least know of his reputation.’ Lady Lydford dropped the words quietly into the silence but the result was as if she had said Fox! to a flock of hens.
‘Lord Offley?’ exclaimed Lady Hartley in awful tones. ‘That libertine rake? What connexion has he with you, Miss Fox?’
‘Absolutely none, I am glad to say,’ Miss Fox responded roundly, her back becoming, if possible, even more stiff. ‘At the Bishop’s Palace, however, we are not unaware of the opprobrium which attaches to that individual. I hesitate to call him a gentleman.’
‘And knowing of that reputation, my dear cousin did not hesitate to come to my aid when I apprised her of the crisis.’ Lady Lydford paused, and gestured towards Mrs Spencer’s cup. ‘A little more tea? Or perhaps a macaron?’
Cassandra marvelled at the skilful orchestration of the group. Now the ladies were hanging on every word, tea cups quite forgotten as they anticipated an awful revelation.
‘No, no, thank you, Lady Lydford, I have quite sufficient.’ Mrs Spencer could bear it no longer. ‘What crisis?’
The Dowager put her own cup down on the piecrust table beside her with deliberate care, and leaned forward in a confiding manner. Like marionettes on strings, the assembled ladies leaned forward, too.
‘I have a goddaughter,’ she began, low-voiced. ‘She is just eighteen, and has spent her entire life on her father’s estate in Hertfordshire, quite secluded. The poor child is motherless. her father, I must tell you, is a scholar of most eccentric habits.’
Knowing looks passed between the ladies at this point, and behind her screen, Cassandra smiled at this masterful understatement.
‘Contemplating matrimony on his own behalf, her father has contracted her in marriage
to Lord Offley.’ Ignoring the sharp intake of breath around the tea table, Lady Lydford pressed on. ‘This sweet child, who is not yet out, and who knows nothing of the ways of the world, is, as you may have guessed, a considerable heiress.’
Heads nodded. ‘Nothing short of a fortune would tempt that man to forsake his bachelorhood for a respectable marriage,’ Lady Hartley remarked. ‘Why, I heard the other day that he had formed a connexion with both daughters of a wealthy cit and was found….’ At this point her voice dropped to a whisper, and strain as she might, Cassandra could hear nothing but the gasps and exclamations of horror which swept the little group.
‘Exactly so,’ remarked Miss Fox, leaning back once more in her chair. ‘You may readily understand, dear ladies, why, when I received a letter from Sophie telling me of her goddaughter’s predicament and entreating my aid, I lent myself to a scheme that under other circumstances, I would not have countenanced.’
The ladies could hardly contain their excitement at these horrid revelations. Lady Lydford inflamed them further by saying in a voice of quivering intensity, ‘I know, dear friends, that I may rely on you all for the utmost discretion and support.’
There was a chorus of murmured assent around the little circle, as she continued, ‘I arranged for Cassandra to slip away, with her maid, of course, and meet my cousin in London. From there, they set forth on their journey to Vienna for my goddaughter to seek sanctuary at my side.’
‘And not a mile too far from the influence of such a man,’ added the Ambassador’s wife. Seeing the most influential lady present had endorsed the plan, the others lost no time in adding their voices in support.
‘But are you certain she was not seen on her journey? What if he has hastened after her?’ enquired Mrs Spencer, anxiously.
‘I am quite certain,’ said Miss Fox, straight-faced, ‘that she was not seen in my company on the journey.’ Cassandra smiled wryly at the skill of the two ladies in manipulating the conversation. Miss Fox’s obvious utter respectability and Lady Lydford’s scandalous revelations combined to make a most titillating tea party.
‘Now Cassandra is off his hands, her father will not concern himself further with her. I intend to bring her out myself, and, of course, present her at Court when we return to London, once mourning for Princess Charlotte is over.’
‘A large fortune, you said?’ ventured one of the ladies, as if it were a mere detail.
Lady Lydford tilted the heavy teapot on its stand and replenished a cup. ‘Oh, more than respectable,’ she rejoined, equally casually.
Watching through the gap in the screen, Cassandra admired her godmother’s skilled manipulation of her audience, then found her admiration replaced by a small frisson of apprehension. If Lady Lydford was as intelligent as she appeared, it was going to be very difficult to keep secrets from her. How could she hide the way she felt for Nicholas from his mother?
