Chapter 3

Three

“ I t is a pleasure to meet you,” the Duke said, his voice so low and warm that it set Cassandra’s skin on fire.

She’d seen the Duke from a distance many times, but she had never heard him speak before, and his voice reminded her of dark, melted chocolate. It fit, too, with how tall and muscular he was, with a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and large hands that were still wrapped firmly around her arms.

Cassandra’s breath hitched as she looked up into the Duke’s eyes. Although he was being introduced to both her and Samantha, his gaze stayed locked on hers, and she felt her mouth go dry. Usually, she considered gray eyes to be cold, but on the Duke of Vaston, they were warm and sparkling, like opals.

The Duke rightened her so that she was once more standing firmly on her feet, then released her slowly. The moment his hands left her arms, she missed them, as if in those few moments they had become a part of her.

“A pleasure,” Cassandra breathed, but her words were drowned out by Lady Cherie’s.

“Why is it I have such perfect timing, Brother?” she asked, her head tilting to one side out of curiosity.

The Duke blinked, as if he had forgotten what he’d been saying, then turned to face his sister. “Er… because you have offered me refuge.” He smiled.

Despite the kindness in the expression, Cassandra thought she detected a note of unease. And when she shifted next to him, his eyes darted to her, and then around the room, as if looking for something—or someone.

“Ahh,” Lady Cherie said, realization seeming to dawn on her. “Hiding, I see.”

“A gentleman doesn’t hide,” the Duke corrected with another smile. “He gracefully maneuvers social situations.” Then, to Cassandra’s utter astonishment, he turned to look at her. “And speaking of graceful, I can’t agree with your assessment of yourself as clumsy, Lady Cassandra. After all, I was the one who frightened you with my sudden arrival.”

He was smiling so warmly at her that Cassandra felt all ability to form words leave her brain. He was being so kind and attentive, and she had no idea why.

“I—” She tried to think of something to say but failed.

“I would be pleased to be proven right if you would agree to this next dance with me,” he continued.

Cassandra looked down to see that he was offering her his hand. She stared at it, temporarily unsure of what exactly to do with it. In the year and a half she’d been out, she had rarely been asked to dance before. And never by a duke!

She looked up, her face burning. Behind her, she felt Samantha put a hand on her back, as if pushing her forward—pushing her towards the Duke’s proffered hand.

It was the nudge she needed. At last, she lifted her hand and placed it in the Duke’s. His was so big that it seemed to eclipse her own.

Heart in her throat, Cassandra looked back up at the Duke. “I would be honored, Your Grace,” she murmured.

The music changed, and the Duke’s hand closed around hers, and she felt the raw strength of him in even that small gesture. It was a restrained strength, telling that he was a man of tremendous control, but the strength was also appealing in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She knew that he could protect her, should anything happen, just as he had kept her from falling over.

It was a strange feeling—comforting and exciting all at once.

The Duke led her to the dance floor, and they quickly settled into place in the long line of dancers. Although Cassandra had never been asked to partake before, she loved to dance and practiced with her dancing tutor regularly. As the music neared the moment when they could begin, her heart soared in her chest, and she risked a small, shy smile at the Duke. He smiled back. Then their hands met in the middle and they began to dance.

It was a simple quadrille, but the moment Cassandra began to move, she felt the familiar glow that dancing always brought to her. Her skin heated, and she knew that she was red-cheeked again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from happiness.

When they came back together, Cassandra was flushed and giddy. The Duke smiled down at her as their hands touched, and his eyes sparkled.

“You’re a great dancer,” he noted lightly. “It’s a joy to see a woman enjoy herself so much.”

“I think my mother would call that unladylike,” Cassandra said, surprising herself with her ability to form a full sentence.

Perhaps the dancing had given her confidence. She also suspected that the fact that the Duke was so far out of her league made her bolder. She didn’t need to worry that something she said wouldn’t appeal to him, as a woman like her could never possibly appeal to a man like him.

“Well, I’d call it character,” he declared.

Cassandra blushed again, but the compliment was so genuine that she also felt emboldened.

“Unfortunately, most gentlemen tend not to like women with character,” the Duke continued thoughtfully. “It’s one of the many defaults of my sex.”

Again, Cassandra tried to think of something to say, but no words came to her. She settled for a polite smile.

The Duke laughed when he saw it.

“You might not be clumsy, Lady Cassandra, but you are shy,” he said. When she reddened further, he added quickly, “I do not mean that as an insult. Merely an observation. Tell me, is it me who makes you shy, or all gentlemen?”

Cassandra bit her lip, then decided that if there was ever a moment to speak, it was now.

“Not just gentlemen,” she replied quietly. “Everyone.”

“I see.” The Duke nodded seriously. “And what is it that you fear?”

“I…” Cassandra had never thought about it this way before, and now she considered the question seriously. “I suppose I’m afraid I shall say the wrong thing and cause offense.”

“Interesting. Well then, I think you should ask me the most inappropriate question you can think of.”

“What?” Cassandra stared at him.

His eyes were twinkling, and his smile was inviting, but she still felt confused.

“Ask me an inappropriate question,” he repeated. “Then, when an offense is caused, you will see that even the worst-case scenario is not as bad as you think it is. It will break the ice, so to speak. And from now on, you won’t worry so much about saying the wrong thing.”

Cassandra gazed at him a moment longer, then she started to smile. “Alright…” she began slowly. “Who was it you were hiding from earlier? Was it your ex-fiancée, Lady Natalie?”

The Duke’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “That is a very inappropriate question!” he declared. “Well done, Lady Cassandra! Well done, indeed. Although I don’t know if I’d characterize it as hiding , per se. However, I was hoping to avoid?—”

“Me.”

Both Cassandra and the Duke looked up to see Lady Natalie standing beside them, having somehow made her way into the line of couples right next to where they were dancing.

Cassandra immediately felt all the confidence that the dance, the Duke’s compliments, and the boldness of asking the inappropriate question had given her fade away.

Lady Natalie was everything she wasn’t—tall, beautiful, thin, with silky black hair, an angelic face, big blue eyes, and all the elegance, charm, and wit that made her a favorite among the gentlemen of the ton . While they had never been formally introduced, Cassandra was more than aware of Lady Natalie’s reputation as sophisticated, flirtatious, and dangerous. Dangerous because she did not suffer rivals or allow herself to not get what she desired.

The Duke, meanwhile, looked as if he had been slapped in the face. His whole body had gone rigid, and his face was stony.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Your Grace,” Lady Natalie said as she slid around them with her dance partner, a young gentleman who looked dumbfounded to have somehow landed a partner such as her.

“I have not been avoiding you,” the Duke countered, his voice stiff. “I have merely been uninterested in renewing our acquaintance.”

Lady Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I see you are seeking out other… acquaintances.” Her gaze traveled over Cassandra, and she smirked. “I admit that I did not expect your tastes to have… broadened so much in two months.”

Cassandra felt herself go red with embarrassment and anger. She was sure that Lady Natalie’s comment had been a reference to her weight, and it made her want to burst into tears.

The Duke, meanwhile, gave Lady Natalie a cold stare. “Have you met Lady Cassandra? She is an exceptionally lovely young lady.”

He smiled at Cassandra, and she lowered her eyes, embarrassed to be complimented in front of Lady Natalie.

“We have not met,” Lady Natalie sneered. “I am usually too occupied at balls to spend time along the walls with young ladies who have been unable to secure proposals.”

She’s calling me a wallflower to my face .

At that moment, Cassandra’s anger was so strong that she looked up, a rush of unbridled fury overtaking her.

“You’re rather free with your censure, for a woman who has already lost one proposal,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I’d be more careful what you say about others if you hope to not lose the second one as well.”

There was a shocked silence. Lady Natalie stared at her, her mouth half-open, and Cassandra wondered if she had just made the social faux pas of the year. Then the Duke burst into laughter. Both women turned to stare at him, but he had eyes only for Cassandra. Reaching out, he took her hand and squeezed it, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he continued to laugh.

More and more couples were turning in their direction at the sound of his laughter, and Cassandra felt herself flush with pleasure. Especially since Lady Natalie looked about as sour as if she’d just eaten a lemon.

“Come, Lady Cassandra, let us get you some lemonade,” the Duke suggested.

Turning away from Lady Natalie without a word of farewell, he led Cassandra away from the dance floor. Once they were at a safe distance, he stopped and turned to face her.

“That was very funny,” he said, his smile lopsided and so sweet that she felt her knees start to shake.

“More like foolish,” she mumbled.

Now that her anger was subsiding, she was starting to feel how stupid it had been to insult one of the ton’s darlings.

“More like brave,” the Duke corrected.

No one had ever called Cassandra brave in her whole life, and she didn’t know what to say. But the Duke didn’t require a response.

He leaned in so that his lips were near her ear and murmured, “And exceedingly inappropriate.”

The words sent a shiver up her spine, and when she looked into his eyes, they were glowing with admiration.

After a moment or two, his face sobered, and he once more became the model of propriety and gentlemanly behavior for which he was known.

? “Come,” he said, offering her his arm, “let me escort you back to your friends.”

Cassandra allowed herself to be steered by the Duke. As they passed the lords and ladies of the ton , she couldn’t help but notice the envious, covetous glances that were shot in her direction. It was surreal, and she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it—she had danced with the most eligible bachelor in England. People were jealous of her!

But as they approached her friends, Cassandra didn’t feel superior or as if she had won some sort of prize. She merely felt grateful for how kind the Duke had been. It wasn’t often that handsome dukes took pity on wallflowers on their way towards spinsterhood, like her, and took them to the dance floor. It was even rarer for them to share private, inside jokes about their wicked behavior.

Just before they reached the group, the Duke stopped and bowed low. “Thank you again for the dance, Lady Cassandra,” he murmured, and he kissed her hand so gently that she felt her heart flutter. His gray eyes flicked up to hers. “And for the laugh. I needed that.”

Then he was gone, and in a half-dazed state, Cassandra rejoined her friends.

“How was the dance?” Samantha asked the moment she rejoined the group.

Cassandra shook her head. “I’ve never been the envy of so many young ladies before. It was a new experience, to say the least.”

“My brother’s dance partners always elicit envy,” Lady Cherie commented. She was watching Cassandra with a tense expression on her face. “And it is not only because he is titled and wealthy. My brother is also a kind, generous person.”

“I was left with the same impression,” Cassandra admitted, smiling slightly. “Any woman would be lucky to have him.”

“Which makes Lady Natalie’s betrayal even more astonishing,” Samantha said darkly. “I cannot believe she threw away the Duke of Vaston!”

“While I am happy that harpy is no longer marrying my brother, I am sorry for myself that he is unattached again,” Lady Cherie sighed. “Before his engagement, and now after, many women have befriended me in order to win his affection. It has been very difficult to discover that so many of my so-called friends were only interested in my friendship if it could benefit them.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Cassandra said, aghast. “That must have been horrible.”

“Thank you.” Lady Cherie’s expression softened. “I don’t mean to sound bitter. Perhaps if I had suitors of my own, then I wouldn’t resent ladies using me to get to my brother. But as it is… my friendships are all I have.”

Her voice had become choked, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “It’s just that it’s the end of another ball, and once more I still have not been asked to dance.”

“It’s not just you,” Lady Samantha said quickly, pulling her dance card from her reticule. “My dance card is also empty.”

“As is mine,” Lady Minerva added gravely. “Although for this, I am grateful.”

“If your brother hadn’t asked me to dance, mine would be as well,” Cassandra said.

The four women looked at each other, and Cassandra felt a surge of affection for these old and new friends. They were all alike, all wallflowers.

“How did this happen to us?” Samantha demanded. “We are all attractive, accomplished young ladies. We should have gentlemen falling over themselves to ask us to dance!”

“Well, I know why I’m a wallflower,” Lady Cherie said. “I had many suitors at first, but I rejected them all, and now no one will approach me. But I was right to be so picky. Among the fortune hunters who came after me was Lord Gregson, who is fifty and wanted to use me as a breeding mare!”

“Well, everyone knows that I am unmarriageable after I outsmarted the man my father wanted me to marry,” Lady Minerva said, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Why would that make you a wallflower?” Cassandra asked curiously.

Lady Minerva’s smirk widened. “I did it in front of the entire ton at a luncheon.”

All the ladies laughed, and then Samantha said, “Well, I would rather be alone with any of the men I’ve met so far, so I suppose I am a wallflower by choice.”

They all looked at Cassandra, who flushed but took a steadying breath. If her friends were going to be open about why they were wallflowers, then she would be open as well.

“I suppose I’m a wallflower because I have no confidence,” she admitted quietly, looking down at the floor. “My sister got the looks, charm, and wit, and I got the clumsiness.”

No one said anything for a moment, then Lady Cherie looped her arm through hers.

“If you don’t feel confident, then we will be confident for you,” she declared, which made Cassandra laugh. “We will shout your many accomplishments from the rooftops until all the gentlemen of London are wildly in love with you.”

“That’s it!” Samantha said, and they all looked at her. She had an excited look on her face. “We should help one another find husbands! Defy Society’s expectations about us and show them that wallflowers can find good matches.”

Cassandra wanted to object, to say that she was far too shy for such a plan, but before she could, Lady Minerva chimed in, “That will be a very amusing experiment. I’m in.”

“So am I,” Lady Cherie said, and Cassandra was happy to see that there were no more tears in her eyes. She looked at Cassandra. “Are you, Cassie?”

No one had ever given Cassandra a nickname before. She turned the name over in her mind, weighing it, testing it out. Cassie. It fit. Cassie was the name of the kind of woman who asked inappropriate questions and had a group of friends who helped each other find husbands.

She nodded and grinned. “Alright, I’m in. But we must promise not to go after the same man or let a man come between us.”

“Yes,” Lady Minerva agreed. “Or to abandon one another once we are married.”

“And…” Lady Cherie hesitated. “I’d also like to ask that no one go after my brother. Otherwise, it will feel like before, when my friends were simply using me. And it’s not just about my feelings. Aidan might act like he’s over it, but I know he’s still fragile after the end of his engagement with Lady Natalie. He needs time to heal.”

“Of course, we promise,” Cassandra said, and while she meant it, there was still a strange hollow feeling in her stomach that she didn’t quite understand. “Anyway, who would want to go after someone who still has feelings for someone else?”

“Well, of course, none of you could ever attract a man like the Duke of Vaston,” a snide voice declared from the shadows.

The four ladies whipped around to see Lady Natalie emerging from behind a column.

Cassandra barely had time to wonder why Lady Natalie was always sneaking up on people when she said, with an amused expression on her face, “After all, you’re all unaccomplished, ill-received wallflowers. Especially you, Lady Cassandra.”

Lady Natalie’s eyes glittered as they came to rest on Cassandra, who felt her heart begin to pound very painfully in her chest.

“You are far too fat, clumsy, and utterly unsuitable for a man like that.”

“Leave her alone,” Samantha snapped at once, her voice rising to an entirely unladylike pitch. “Cassandra is far more accomplished, kind, and worthy of a great match than you will ever be!”

“Such empty words,” Lady Natalie sneered, “coming from another spinster.”

“Haven’t you done enough damage already, Lady Natalie?” Lady Cherie snarled. “Leave me and my friends alone. And while you’re at it, leave my brother alone.”

Lady Natalie shrugged. “I don’t take orders from you. I can talk to whomever I want and go wherever I want.”

“Well then, so can we,” Lady Minerva declared. “Come, ladies, let us leave this viper.”

And the four of them turned and strode away from Lady Natalie until she was lost to them in the crowd of people.

But despite the physical distance, Cassandra couldn’t shake Lady Natalie’s words.

For the rest of the night, her friends reassured her again and again that nothing Lady Natalie had said was true. Each time, Cassandra smiled and pretended that she believed them. But deep down, she knew Lady Natalie was right—she would never be worthy of a handsome, charming gentleman like the Duke of Vaston.