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The ladies were cosily involved in a discussion of the relative merits of a string ensemble or a military band for the music, when the butler reappeared with the tea tray and the announcement, ‘Lord Stewart, my lady.’
Even Miss Hartley, newly affianced, paused to pat a curl into place. Lord Stewart entered with his customary ease, despite the handicap of two large bouquets, which he presented to his hostess and Cassandra.
‘With thanks for an enchanting evening, ma’am,’ he swept a bow to the Dowager. ‘And the enchanting company,’ he added, with a warm glance at Cassandra.
She accepted the flowers with thanks, not entirely unaware of the envy she was arousing in Miss Lucy’s breast. Lord Stewart cut a magnificent figure with his slim, blond elegance and the faint military air which still hung about him, although he had resigned his commission the previous year.
As he sat down beside her, crossing one elegantly booted leg over the other, Cassandra reflected that if one’s heart wasn’t given to an infuriating, green-eyed, bad tempered Earl, one could very easily fall under the spell of this man.
He soon had them in a ripple of laughter with his amusing description of the antics of his eccentric Austrian valet. He had just accepted a second cup of tea when he saw a small ink spot on Cassandra’s hand and broke off to tease her about the dangers of working too hard.
It could not have been better contrived, Cassandra reflected afterwards. Lord Stewart had taken her hand to examine the mark, just as Nicholas came into the Blue Salon. Lord Stewart retained her hand while he nodded amiably to his friend, but Cassandra laughingly withdrew her fingers.
‘Tea, Nicholas?’ his mother asked, as he took the seat between the two Misses Hartley.
Really, there couldn’t be a better opportunity to put her plan into operation, Cassandra thought, turning with a brilliant smile to Lord Stewart. ‘Do you ride much in Vienna, my lord?’
Five minutes later, while she was laughingly accepting his offer to take her riding and to lend her a horse, she risked a glance under her lashes at Nicholas. Charlotte Hartley was deep in discussion of bride clothes with Lady Lydford, leaving Miss Lucy to Nicholas’s undivided attention. Charming in peach muslin, which showed off to perfection her rounded figure and delicately flushed complexion, she was all attention as Nicholas chatted easily to her.
He was showing no interest whatsoever in Lord Stewart’s attentions to Cassandra, and swallowing her chagrin, she had to admit Miss Lucy was enough to distract any man. And, of course, he must have known her in London.
It would be easier if she could dislike the young woman, but Lucy’s good nature and bright intelligence had endeared her to Cassandra very quickly. She saw Lady Lydford watching the couple with an indulgent smile touching her lips, and her heart sank. Lucy Hartley, well-bred, well-behaved and exceedingly well-dowered, was every mama’s dream for her son.
Beside her, Lord Stewart was describing delightful rides in the Viennese countryside and she responded with every appearance of interest, while inside her heart felt like lead. She must have been insane to have deluded herself that Nicholas felt anything for her. His behaviour last night was simply that of a rather over-zealous cousin, concerned to protect the reputation of an inexperienced relative.
And his anger this morning, she thought miserably, stemmed from the discovery of her wanton behaviour, her apparent spiteful desire for revenge.
‘Lydford, why do we not make up a riding party tomorrow, if the weather is good, and take the ladies to see that wonderful view you get from the western hills? Miss Hartley, Miss Lucy, would you accompany us?’
Lady Lydford agreed with the scheme, and suggested Miss Fox as a chaperone.
‘Splendid idea, Stewart,’ Nicholas agreed. ‘But if I may suggest, rather than all go on horseback, it would be an excellent opportunity to give you that driving lesson I have been promising you, Miss Lucy. Come now, say you will.’ His voice was warmly persuasive and Miss Lucy showed no inclination to resist.
‘If Mama permits,’ she dimpled prettily. ‘I would love to, if you think me strong enough to control your horses.’
‘Don’t be afraid, I’ll be there all the time, right beside you,’ Nicholas assured her.
Cassandra ungritted her teeth with an effort. The mental picture of Miss Lucy in a dashing riding habit with the Earl’s strong hands enveloping her tiny gloved ones on the reins was too much to bear.
‘Unfortunately, I do not possess a riding habit yet. It has not arrived from the dressmaker’s,’ Cassandra said tightly.
‘Oh, what a pity,’ Nicholas replied carelessly. ‘Never mind, I expect you and Stewart can join us on another occasion.’
‘Nonsense, she can borrow my habit,’ Lady Lydford said cheerfully, as the young ladies rose to make their farewells.
When their guests had left, the Dowager regarded her son and goddaughter with complacency. ‘Well, what a splendid afternoon we have had. Almost all the invitations are written, Nicholas – and did you see the lovely flowers Lord Stewart brought Cassandra?’
‘Very handsome,’ he remarked lightly. ‘Perhaps I have misjudged him. Should I enquire what his intentions are towards Cassandra, Mama?’
‘A little premature, I think, but I will not deny I have hopes. Now, don’t blush so, Cassandra, you seem to have quite a partiality for his lordship.’ Having effectively rendered her goddaughter speechless, she turned once more to her son. ‘And as for you, Nicholas
, I really am most pleased with you, I have had great hopes of your finding a suitable wife in Vienna. Miss Lucy Hartley would be ideal.’
‘I will do my best not to disappoint you, Mama,’ he said smoothly, opening the door to allow the Dowager to leave.
‘Nicholas…’
He turned to Cassandra, his eyes as hard as emeralds and held up a hand. ‘No, don’t say anything. I have no wish to cause my mother pain, so I have decided we will say no more about Venice or what happened this morning. As far as I am concerned, the subject is closed.’ The door closed behind him with the thud of finality.
