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Mrs. Beatty chuckled knowingly. “Captain Lord Delford will have to slap the gentlemen’s hands, m’lady. They’ll be like bees to the honey pot.” As Cassy gazed up, appalled by this thought, Mrs. Beatty hastened to add, “Just a manner of speaking, m’lady. Do not fret yourself.” She stopped her monologue to a halt and drew her sandy brows together. “The captain told Mr. Beatty that you would be leaving for England next week. It’s sad that you must be parted so soon.”
Cassie was careful that her eyes did not meet Mrs. Beatty’s. “It is likely that the captain will return to England in the summer. General Howe has requested that he stay on in New York for the present.” Actually, Cassie wasn’t at all certain what plans Edward had made, if, indeed, he had yet made any. Since their conversation three days ago, Edward had tried to remonstrate with her, but Cassie had remained steadfast. It seemed to her that, finally, Edward was occasionally allowing himself to be relieved. When she had teasingly pointed out how lucky he was to have such a narrow escape from a shrewish woman, his tight reserve loosened, and for a brief moment, he smiled crookedly. But he was worried for her, thinking, she knew, about what her life would be like when she returned to England and to Hemphill Hall. Because he was troubled, she forced laughter into her voice when she was with him. He spent all his time with her, save at night. Whilst they were eating luncheon at a barge restaurant docked off Brooklyn Heights, she unwisely broached the subject of how Edward was going to court Jenny when much of New York believed him to be married.
“I believe, Cass,” he said coolly, “that that will be my problem. I will muddle through it, as I always do.” She sensed that he had given it thought. She was quite confident that Jenny, if not Edward, would contrive something suitable.
Cassie turned at the sound of Major John Andre’s laughing voice in the sitting room. Even when he was enjoying a good joke, his voice sounded husky, as if in case a lady were within hearing. Mrs. Beatty draped a white shawl over Cassie’s shoulders and shuffled to the bedchamber door to open it.
“Now you enjoy yourself, m’lady. I was telling Mr. Beatty just
the other day that you were looking a trifle peaked, but you certainly don’t tonight.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Beatty, for your assistance.” She smiled toward the sitting room. “With two such amusing gentlemen, I am certain to enjoy myself.”
Major Andre whistled softly under his breath. “Good God, Edward, it’s a close eye you’ll have to keep upon your lady this evening. You are a vision to a starved man, Lady Delford.”
“She is passable, I suppose,” Edward said as he took her hand.
“Thank you, Major Andre, Edward. I hope I have not keep you gentlemen waiting overlong.”
“Not at all, Lady Delford.” Major Andre glanced curiously toward Edward. If Cassie were his wife, he thought, he would not let her out of his sight or his bed, much less let her leave for England alone. His gaze lingered on her thick golden hair, and his fingers fairly itched to touch it.
Cassie supposed that Major Andre was accompanying them because there was no available carriage to carry them from the King George Inn to Kennedy House. At night, a lady escorted even by one gentleman was not sufficiently safe in many parts of the city.
This March night was cool, and the sky was clear. There was a light breeze from the river, and Cassie was reminded briefly of Genoa. But there were no fragrant flowers, no silvery moon casting its soft glow over the Mediterranean. She closed her eyes an instant, chiding herself, and turned her attention to the gentlemen.
The walk to Kennedy House was pleasant, for Major Andre was an amusing conversationalist. Cassie found herself laughing more than once at his droll comments, many of the more sarcastic ones about General Clinton.
“The general likes to fancy that he is riding in the Quorn,” he said, his voice full of irony. “This morning, he insisted upon tearing down the middle of Broadway, pretending he was in the midst of the hunt. Had I the time, I would have trapped a wretched fox and placed him in the general’s path. That would have shaken the old fool, I imagine. The New Yorkers were rather taken aback by his antics, I assure you.”
Cassie laughed. “I look forward to meeting your commander, Major Andre.”
“To you, Lady Delford, he will appear to be all that is gracious. I only hope that he will have the good sense not to ogle you too openly and that you will have the good fortune not to have to dance with him. He is really as clumsy as he is boring.”
Although the evening was young, the long, rectangular ballroom set at the back of Kennedy House was already thronged with scarlet-coated officers, ladies far more sumptuously gowned than Cassie, and New York gentlemen, their elaborately clad figures and powdered heads in hearty competition with the English officers. An orchestra of bewigged musicians was upon a dais at the far end of the room. Though there were few ornaments or decorations in the huge room, it was not difficult for Cassie to imagine herself, for a moment at least, back in England. Cassie gave over her shawl to a black maid, for all the windows were closed, and the press of people made the room quite warm.
With Edward at her side, she made her curtsy to General Howe. She smiled to herself when Edward introduced her to General Clinton, remembering Major Andre’s words. He was not all that was gracious. Indeed, his ogling, Cassie thought, forcing a prim smile to her lips, was more in the nature of a tentative leer. She wished she had not discarded her shawl, for the general’s eyes kept flitting to her bosom.
“Edward tells me you are leaving us next week, Lady Delford.”
“It is true, sir. I must return to England.” Although Cassie was not overly tall for a woman, General Clinton was overly short for a man, and her eyes met his bulbous nose.
General Clinton gave Edward a commiserating look. His pale eyes were set rather wide, and it was difficult to know specifically to whom he was speaking unless he looked at one directly. “The summer, Edward, the summer. We need you here now to drive those rebels into the wilderness.” He heaved a sigh that strained the buttons of his scarlet waistcoat. “We must all of us make sacrifices. The time will pass quickly, you will see. I ask to reserve your permission now for your lovely wife’s hand in a dance before she is besieged. Your servant, my lady,” he added, and bowed brightly, not to her face, but to her bosom.
“General Clinton makes me feel naked,” Cassie whispered behind her hand to Edward.
“You should hear what Jen—”
“I think you can begin finishing her name now, Edward. What does Jenny have to say about him?”
“That he’s a lecherous old fool she would very much like to kick soundly in his shins.”
Cassie said, “A most suitable amusement, I think.” She was silent for a moment. “Will Jenny be here this evening, Edward?”
“Yes. She is a favorite with both generals. You can be assured that she will be discreet.”
Cassie saw that Edward was ill at ease with such conversation, and hastened to say, “Kennedy House did not succumb to the fire, I gather.”
“No, the fire was fickle, as I told you.”
