AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Were they in love?” she asked so quietly that she wondered if Cassandra heard her. She assumed, given Cora’s proclivities, that their marriage had been in word only, but maybe she was wrong.
“No, not in love.” Manuela noted Cassandra’s emphasis onno, expecting there to be more. “She couldn’t love him, not like a wife loves a husband, but Benedict knew that. He was ill when they met, and all he wanted was for someone to look after Alfie when he died.” Cassandra’s eyes were far away as she looked inward. “He didn’t want his son to be left in the hands of relations who would only want him for his money.” That explained, at least in part, her connection to her stepson. “They married when she was eighteen, and his illness took him five years later.” Cassandra lifted a hand to the glass enclosing the illustration and traced it with her nail. “For more than a year she was like a ghost. Her Tia Osiris helped as much as she could, but we grew worried. All she did was work. Benedict was not very good with business, but he encouraged her in it. By the time she was widowed, she was managing all of the duchy’s holdings and growing a fortune in her own right. She was grateful for the freedom he gave her, for the faith he had in her.”
Manuela thought of the story Cora had told her about her father. Finding a man who reacted with encouragement instead of scorn to her ambitions must have been wonderful. Just as losing him would’ve been devastating. “She cared about nothing other than Alfie and fulfilling her promise to Benedict to raise his son. Then she met someone.” Manuela noticed that the usual warmth in Cassandra’s voice disappeared at the mention of this someone.
“She fell in love then?” Maybe that was why Cora was this way. Maybe her heart belonged to someone she couldn’t have. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for women like them.
Cassandra’s smile was as sharp as a blade. “I don’t know if it was love, but she lost her head for someone who wanted to use her.” There was a short, taut silence. “Someone who was already engaged to be married.”
“I thought it wasn’t unusual for married women...” Manuela started, then quieted when she took in Cassandra’s bleak expression. “Ah, she never told Cora about the engagement.”
“She didn’t, and she took advantage of Cora’s connections to repair her brother’s finances and increase her dowry to boot.” No wonder she had been so resistant to get involved with Manuela. “When she found out—” Cassandra grimaced as if the mere memory of the incident caused her physical pain. “Let’s just say Cora was not discreet about her heartbreak, and since then she’s seemed determined to never expose herself to that pain again.”
“That’s awful.” Manuela couldn’t come up with anything else to say. But God, poor Cora! Losing her husband and then the first time she risked her heart...to be betrayed so terribly.
“I know your situation is not the same,” Cassandra started, but Manuela shook her head to stop whatever she intended to say. She could not bear to hear it.
“Our situation is temporary. For Cora this is a business transaction, and for me...” Now she was the one grimacing at the thought of what awaited after this. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, where everyone knows where they stand. When it’s over, she will have her land, and I will get married.” She pressed a hand to her throat and forced herself to smile. She would have to work on her reaction to the prospect of a life with Felix.
“In the years I’ve known Cora, she has never brought anyone to my home, or hers,” Cassandra told her, and Manuela wished she could cover her ears.
Again she shook her head, denying Cassandra’s words. What was the use in any of this? She couldn’t change course now, not without disgracing herself. Not without once again costing her family everything.
“Cassandra, I am happy that you could make a life here with Frede, but I don’t have that freedom. My parents depend on me.” Felix had paid a fortune in debts, in trips, in dresses. He’d paid for Manuela. “If it was only me, perhaps...” No. This was futile and would only make things worse later.
She wished she hadn’t learned of the concessions Cora had made for her. She wished she was strong enough to end this now, but after last night there was no staying away. If Cora wanted her in her bed, Manuela would go. She could nurse her pride all the way across the Atlantic.
Cassandra’s eyes were haunted as she reached for Manuela’s hand, her grip so tight it was almost painful. “You deserve more than what you’ve been told you can have.”
“I am leaving to return to Venezuela in a few weeks,” Manuela insisted, as much for her sake as for Cassandra’s.
“But you could come back here. That idea you had of organizing Aurora’s friends has been circling in my head for days now too. We must speak with Aristide about it today.”
She’d wondered if this collective could fulfill grandmother’s dream in some ways. But it was impossible. Felix would never allow her to be going back and forth between Venezuela and Paris. It would only hurt more if she fooled herself into believing any of this was plausible.
“I don’t think so, Cassandra,” she said apologetically. “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time, and Aristide’s.” But at least she wasn’t lying to herself or anyone else.
Eighteen
This was pure indulgence, Cora thought as she walked into the room where Manuela was being fitted for her new gown.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, striding in, her gaze fixed on the woman standing on the dais.
She’d almost called off the whole thing a dozen times. It had been impulsive to summon one of the most popular modistes in the city, demanding she clear her schedule to make a dress for Manuela in a matter of days. But the way the bright magenta sat against her lover’s skin made it look like burnished gold. Cora’s vision filled with her as her heart whirled around hopelessly in her chest. The design was fairly simple, but Bernadette, the dressmaker, had cut it in a heart-shaped neckline that displayed Manuela’s attributes to perfection. The dress hid nothing of her form: on the contrary, it accentuated every one of her beautiful curves.
“Where’s Bernadette?” Manuela asked, surprised, her arms clutching the front of the dress which was only held up by pins.
“I told her I’d help you change,” Cora informed the heiress, who didn’t seem very thrilled to see her.
“I can change on my own.” She couldn’t: the bodice was still not sewn to the skirt, and once she let her arms fall to the side the whole thing would crash to the floor.
But for once, Manuela wasn’t the sunny, easygoing, princess. She was cross with Cora and wasn’t attempting to hide it.
Had it really only been two days since she’d seen her? It felt like years.
“Let me help you, cariño,” Cora cajoled her and received a very bellicose stare in the mirror.
“No,” Manuela volleyed back, her hands clutched in front of her, the sway in her hips hypnotizing as she walked around the dais and came to stand in front of Cora. “What are you doing here?” Her usually inviting gaze was dark and furious.
