Chapter 2

Two

“ A nd there went my last hope of one of my daughters marrying well.” The Marchioness of Manton sighed as she raised a small glass of champagne to her lips. “If Helen couldn’t manage it, then there’s no chance that…” she trailed off and shrugged delicately in what Cassandra knew was meant to be a self-deprecating way.

Then there’s no chance that Cassandra will , Cassandra inwardly finished for her mother. It wasn’t hard for any of the other listeners to guess the end of the sentence either. The Marchioness only had one other daughter, and she was within earshot.

“Lady Cassandra still could marry well,” Lady Carleton, who was on the board of Almack’s, said sympathetically. She smiled at Cassandra. “Not every man wants a beautiful wife. They can be such trouble…”

Cassandra knew her face was turning red, but she didn’t dare look away. These ladies weren’t purposefully trying to humiliate her in front of the ton’s most powerful matrons. It was just that no one ever really considered her feelings when speaking about her. A matter that was only made worse by the fact that Cassandra never objected to any of their criticisms.

“We were all surprised by Lady Helen’s choice in husband,” Lady Davenport, another Almack board member whose twin daughters were due to come out in Society next year, added. “It was the love match of the Season! Both my daughters were green with envy to be featured so often, and so adoringly, in the Tatler. ”

Cassandra had to smile at that. London’s most infamous gossip rag had been very fond of her sister’s love match with Frederick Carter, a mere Baron whom the most snobbish of the peers seemed to think was reaching far above his station by marrying the eldest daughter of a marquess.

Meanwhile, her mother was wrinkling her nose at the words love match.

“Your daughters would do well to remember that love fades, Lady Davenport,” the Marchioness advised. “Position, however, is forever.”

The other ladies nodded in agreement, and Lady Manton sighed dramatically. “Helen was the Diamond of the Season. And now… I have to listen to Lady Grayson’s constant boasting that her daughter married a marquess. My own daughter took away my last chance to quash Lady Grayson’s sense of superiority once and for all.”

The other women made sympathetic sounds, but Cassandra had to turn away to roll her eyes.

Lady Grayson was Lady Manton’s closest friend, and while the former did rather boast about her daughter’s marriage, Cassandra knew her mother would feel worse if she were left out of the boasting. The women had a relationship built on one-upmanship, from jewels to gowns and now, apparently, to daughters’ marriages.

I am sick of it all—sick of Mama’s criticism, sick of being compared to Helen, sick of hearing about her disappointing matches, and most of all sick of the marriage mart.

She’d been out now for a Season and a half, and so far, she had received no offers of marriage. She’d never even had a real suitor.

She knew her looks were partially to blame, but even the few men who had shown interest had soon lost patience when she’d been unable to form a coherent response to their attempts at conversation. She was far too shy, insecure, and uncomfortable in her own skin to know what to say to them. By the beginning of this Season, she knew she’d earned the reputation of a wallflower, and all the eligible gentlemen avoided her.

I wonder if I can sneak away without Mama noticing .

Cassandra stared at Lady Manton, her eyes glazing over.

It’s not as if she notices me now.

Just then, she felt a hand on her elbow, and she turned to see her best friend, Lady Samantha Canford, standing next to her.

“At last, I’ve found you!” Samantha squealed, beaming as she slipped her arm around Cassandra’s. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Several of the ladies turned to look at them at the sound of Samantha’s voice, which was several decibels louder than was considered polite for an unmarried young lady.

Lady Manton’s expression immediately soured at the sight of her daughter’s infamously unsuitable best friend. She and her friends exchanged meaningful glances and raised eyebrows.

Samantha, of course, didn’t seem to notice or care.

“This ball is dreadfully dull, don’t you think?” she asked Cassandra, grinning mischievously. “There aren’t nearly enough gentlemen who are eager to dance.”

Although both young ladies knew there were plenty of gentlemen eager to dance with ladies who weren’t wallflowers, Cassandra still appreciated her friend’s attempt to ease her humiliation.

“Lady Minerva and I had an idea,” Samantha continued, still smiling wickedly. “We hatched a plot to stand closer to the dance floor. That way, the men stepping off it will bump right into us and realize we are without partners. They can’t possibly feign tiredness if they’re fresh off the dance floor, and then we shall dance all night!”

“An ingenious plan,” Cassandra said sarcastically, and Samantha grinned more broadly.

Lady Manton, however, didn’t hear the sarcasm.

“That is a good plan!” she cooed. She waved her hands in the direction of the dance floor, as if shooing the two of them away. “Cassandra, go with Lady Samantha.”

Cassandra curtsied to the other ladies and wished them farewell. It was only once she was about to leave when her mother leaned close and whispered, “You know, you might have more luck with gentlemen if you had your friend’s cleverness.”

Cassandra swallowed and nodded, turning away before her mother saw the tears in her eyes.

Samantha, who had heard everything, squeezed Cassandra’s arm tighter. “She usually despises my cleverness,” she said lightly.

“That’s because you’re usually using it to outwit her,” Cassandra pointed out.

“And I have done so again,” Samantha declared, which made her friend laugh. “There is no plan to stand by the dance floor and force men to dance with us.”

“Oh, thank God!” Cassandra giggled. “I have never met a gentleman who enjoyed being cornered into a dance.”

“Indeed. And why would we care about cornering gentlemen anyway?”

Cassandra sighed. “I know that you maintain that you are happy to be relegated to spinsterhood,” she said softly, “but I would like to marry someday. If only to escape my mother and the constant comparisons to Helen…”

“I’d think Helen would no longer be the apple of your mother’s eye,” Samantha observed astutely, “after her disadvantageous marriage.”

“Truthfully, Mama doesn’t know how to behave. She is so used to venerating Helen and comparing me to her unfavorably that now she finds herself in quite the logical knot.”

Samantha snorted with laughter, and a few scandalized heads turned in their direction. Samantha, of course, ignored them.

“I’m impressed by your sister, truthfully,” she admitted. “She was brave to go against your mother’s wishes. Not every young lady would do that.”

“You would,” Cassandra pointed out.

Samantha smirked. “Well, yes. I would.”

“I’m not sure I would,” Cassandra said gloomily. “Helen is very brave, as you’ve said. Mama and Papa have made their displeasure known to everyone—including Lord Carter’s family. I’m not sure I’d have the courage to face even more disapproval from them.”

“Well, Helen is very much in love, isn’t she?” Samantha said. “Perhaps love makes people braver.”

“Yes,” Cassandra murmured thoughtfully. “And kinder, if my sister’s new personality is to be taken as a result of Lord Carter’s influence. Ever since she met him, she no longer criticizes me or points out all my flaws. She actually seems to like me, and I even look forward to her visits.”

“Perhaps that’s because she is no longer trying to keep your mother’s favor,” Samantha pointed out. “You are no longer the competition, but a commiserator.”

Cassandra mulled this over. “Or perhaps,” she suggested slowly, “she is just happy?”

Samantha raised her eyebrows. “Marriage can make one happy? Perhaps I should consider it, after all.”

Cassandra laughed, then looked around. “So where are we going? If not to pounce on gentlemen leaving the dance floor?”

“To Lady Minerva.”

Cassandra blinked. She had thought that Samantha speaking to Lady Minerva had been part of the deception. “You two are… acquainted?”

“Since last week, yes.”

“But she is so… serious.”

Lady Minerva was known as a perfectionist with a businesslike mind that was sharper than most men’s. She was another wallflower, like them, but they had never been close to her and her friend, Lady Cherie, who had just debuted but was also already known for her exacting standards.

Cassandra, who was clumsy and awkward, had thought herself not sophisticated enough to be friends with Lady Minerva and Lady Cherie.

“She is serious,” Samantha conceded. “But she is also very funny when she wants to be. She has a dark sense of humor. We bumped into each other at the Somersby musicale last week, and I’ve been dying to introduce you since.”

Cassandra had barely had time to stammer out a response when the two of them stopped in front of Lady Minerva and Lady Cherie, who were standing together near the back of the ballroom, by the Corinthian columns, sipping lemonade.

Lady Minerva was tall and sharp-featured, with light blonde hair that had been pulled back into a severe coiffure and intelligent blue eyes. Lady Cherie, on the other hand, was smaller, pink-cheeked, and pretty, with dark wavy hair and surprisingly lively gray eyes. She was too pretty to be a wallflower, and Cassandra wondered briefly why she had been put on the shelf.

“Lady Samantha!” Lady Cherie cried, her eyes lighting up at once. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Good to see you,” Lady Minerva added more somberly. She didn’t smile, but there was a warmth to her expression at seeing Samantha that Cassandra had never seen before.

“Ladies,” Samantha said, smiling and pushing Cassandra forward, “this is my closest friend, Lady Cassandra Bradton.”

Both ladies turned to look at Cassandra, and she blushed under their gazes. She always flushed under scrutiny. Being the object of attention mortified her, especially after a lifetime of being told she was less pretty, intelligent, and charming than her sister.

And Cassandra knew her mother was right. While Lady Minerva was tall and elegant, Cassandra was short and clumsy. While Lady Cherie was slim and pretty, Cassandra was chubby and plain. And as the two ladies looked at her, Cassandra felt as if they were judging every single one of these flaws.

After just a moment, however, Lady Cherie held out her hand. “It’s lovely to meet a friend of Samantha’s,” she said, much more warmly than Cassandra had been anticipating. “We just adore your friend. She has been amusing us with her acerbic take-downs of the ton’s most imperious members. And we know we will adore you too.”

“Indeed,” Lady Minerva agreed. “It seems that Lady Samantha is the only person, apart from us, who is able to see through the pretense and self-delusions of the peerage.”

“We don’t think the peerage is all pretense and self-delusions,” Lady Cherie added quickly, glancing at Cassandra as if worried she might judge them.

“Don’t we?” Lady Minerva asked skeptically.

Lady Cherie tried, and failed, to hide her smile. “But both Lady Minerva and I have been the recipients of two-faced behavior that has made us a tad more cynical than is considered fashionable.”

“You don’t have to worry that Cassandra will report you for disloyalty to the peerage,” Samantha assured them with a laugh. “She thinks as we do, that the ton can be snobbish and exclusive and hard on young ladies who are different.”

“How are you different, Lady Cassandra?” Lady Minerva asked.

The bluntness of the question caught Cassandra off guard, and she flushed again.

“Forgive my friend’s candidness,” Lady Cherie interjected, putting a friendly hand on her arm. “Lady Minerva is merely curious about people, and she doesn’t always read social cues.”

Lady Minerva nodded, and a shadow of a smile touched her lips. “I don’t like to waste time on pleasantries,” she explained. “I’d rather know upfront who a person is.”

“I can respect that,” Cassandra said, and she meant it.

There was something she liked about Lady Minerva’s no-nonsense attitude. And it paired well with Lady Cherie’s easy friendliness. She could see how the two friends, while opposite, had become so close.

“I don’t know if I’m different, though,” she added after a moment. “I simply find myself uncomfortable, often, in the social situations in which my sister excelled. And I can be a bit?—”

Before Cassandra could finish her sentence, a voice sounded behind them.

“My dear sister, how do you always know how to be in the exact right place at the exact right time?”

Cassandra was so surprised by the intrusion that her heart leapt in her chest, and she let out a small cry of surprise. At the same time, she seized Samantha’s hand in fright—at least, what she thought was Samantha’s hand. But her hand closed around thin air, and she was thrown off balance, tipping backward.

For a wild moment, she thought she was about to fall over and completely embarrass herself, until she felt strong hands grip her shoulders and halt her fall.

Cassandra blinked and looked up into the beautiful, kind gray eyes of the newcomer to their circle. It was a man, tall and handsome, with wavy black hair that fell luxuriously in front of his eyes. At once, she knew who her rescuer was. They had never met, but she knew all about him, not least of all because of the very public ending of his engagement just two months ago.

“Ahh, Aidan!” she heard Lady Cherie exclaim. “There you are! And you’re just in time to meet our new friends. Ladies, this is my brother Aidan Norton, the Duke of Vaston. Aidan, this is Lady Samantha Canford.” She nodded to Samantha, who curtsied. “And next to her, the lady you just so chivalrously rescued, is Lady Cassandra Bradton, who, coincidentally, was just telling us that she can be a bit clumsy.”