Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

" C ressida, what are you doing?"

Victoria approached Cressida from across the lawn. She had a drink carefully balanced in each hand, and she was walking carefully, for the lawn, while well-maintained, had several uneven places that made walking precarious.

Cressida waited, knowing that she owed her sister an explanation for her long absence, and knowing, too, that she wouldn't offer it until Victoria was close enough to be spoken to in low tones. The last thing she needed was for Lord or Lady Brockhurst to overhear her speaking of her plan, even to her sister.

But before Victoria reached her, something terrible happened.

Victoria's foot caught on a small, raised spot in the ground. Horrified, Cressida watched it all happen as if in slow motion—her sister stumbled forward and managed to keep her feet, but she couldn't save the drinks in her hands. They flew out and spilled—all over Lady Brockhurst.

Startled, Lady Brockhurst turned to see what had happened to her.

Victoria stood frozen, shocked at her misfortune, but Cressida was already rushing forward. She knew that this was her responsibility, that she was the only one who could set things to rights. That was the way it had always been when her sister had found herself in trouble of any kind. Cressida was the one who fixed things.

"I beg your pardon," she said to Lady Brockhurst. "Are you all right?"

"Why do you beg my pardon?" Lady Brockhurst spoke in a frigid tone. "I saw what happened. You weren't the one to spill your drink on me so carelessly—it was that lady there."

She raised a hand and pointed at Victoria, who trembled.

"That's my younger sister," Cressida said quickly. "She stumbled. She didn't mean any offense. Please—she's upset. Allow me to beg your pardon on her behalf."

Lady Brockhurst looked Victoria up and down and seemed to decide that Cressida was speaking the truth. "Young lady," she said rather sternly to Victoria, "you ought to be more careful, and pay attention to where you're going.

"Victoria, this is Lady Brockhurst," Cressida said, knowing that her sister ought to apologize herself.

But Lady Brockhurst was sufficiently distracted. "How is it that you know who I am?" she asked Cressida. "I don't believe you and I have ever had occasion to meet."

"No, we haven't," Cressida agreed. "I know of you because a friend pointed you out—or rather, he pointed your husband out."

"My husband?" Lady Brockhurst frowned. "Do you have business with my husband?"

"Oh, no, not me," Cressida said quickly. "But my—my friend does."

Lady Brockhurst's frown deepened. "Who is this friend?"

"Do you know Lord Feverton?"

"Of course, everyone knows of Lord Feverton, which isn't to say that the two of us have ever been introduced…" She turned away, and Cressida saw with pleasure that she was now calling out to her husband. "Peter, perhaps you had better come and listen to this."

And now, at long last, Lord Brockhurst joined the conversation. He showed no surprise at the fact that Cressida was speaking to his wife, confirming what she had already known—he had been perfectly aware that Cressida was trying to get his attention. "Young lady," he said sternly, "did you arrange for a drink to be spilled on my wife in order to compel me to speak to you?"

"Certainly not!" Cressida exclaimed.

"Because if I thought you had done any such a thing, believe me, I would be taking steps here and now to have you removed from this party," he told her.

"You wouldn't need to," she assured him. "If I found myself behaving so appallingly, I would leave on my own. No, I've wished to speak to you, Lord Brockhurst, but I would never go so far as to do something like that."

"Perhaps you ought to tell me what it is you want with me, then," he suggested.

Cressida would have liked to point out that she had been trying all this time to do exactly that, and that it was his own stubborn refusal to acknowledge her that had kept her from being more straightforward with him, but she didn't want to take the chance of ruining things now that he was actually speaking to her.

She would have handled things differently, given her own way about it. She would have taken the time to get to know him a bit better, to build a rapport with him. But as it was, he knew too much. He knew that she had been trying to get his attention, and his wife would be able to tell him that it had something to do with Lord Feverton. It was best to just come clean, to tell him everything right here and now.

"I'm here on behalf of the Marquess of Feverton," she said.

"The marquess?" Lord Brockhurst peered across the room. Following his gaze, Cressida saw that he was indeed looking directly at the marquess. "What does he want with me?"

"A conversation. That's all I know of the matter."

"And why didn't he simply approach me himself?"

It was the same question Cressida had asked Lord Feverton herself when she had been tasked with this assignment. Oddly, the answer seemed obvious now.

"You're a very difficult man to approach," she told him. "Even you yourself can't fathom how I managed to get your attention without some sort of scheme. Even you believe that I contrived with my sister to spill a drink on your wife. What chance did poor Lord Feverton have if he'd confronted you himself? I doubt you would have given him the time of day."

Lord Brockhurst raised his eyebrows. "You're very direct, aren't you?"

"I can be, when the occasion calls for it." And this occasion certainly called for it. This was about her sister's very happiness, after all.

"What would you have me do?" he asked.

"Just speak to Lord Feverton. I don't know what he wants—I don't concern myself with that. But talk to him. Find out for yourself."

"I must say, this is all highly irregular," Lord Brockhurst said. "However…my curiosity is piqued, young lady."

"Then you'll speak to him?"

"I will. But you must promise to stay away from my wife for the remainder of the party!" He fixed her with a rather fierce glare. "She has suffered enough indignity at your hands."

Cressida didn't bother pointing out that she hadn't been the one to spill the drinks in the first place. Everything was going so perfectly well that she didn't want to invite any sort of argument. She merely smiled at Lord Brockhurst. "You've been very understanding about that, and I'm very sorry," she assured him. "You have my solemn promise that I will stay well away from both you and your wife for the rest of the day."

"Very well, then," Lord Brockhurst said.

He turned and sailed across the room in the direction of Lord Feverton, moving so quickly that Cressida felt sure she hadn't needed to promise him anything at all. He was deeply curious about what Lord Feverton had to say to him. That much was obvious. He would have gone over to find out about it no matter what Cressida had said to him.

She didn't mind, though. She had no need to converse with him any further—her task was accomplished.

She went to stand beside her sister. Victoria was still trembling slightly, shocked over what she had done and everything that had followed. "Is he angry?" she wanted to know.

"Lord Brockhurst? He isn't angry with you at all, Victoria," Cressida assured her with a smile. "I'm not sure he even realizes you were involved."

"That wasn't what I was asking. Is he angry with you ?"

"I don't care very much if he is." She had achieved what she had set out to do, and making Lord Brockhurst happy with her was no part of that.

"But I didn't want to cause you any unpleasantness." Victoria looked truly upset. "You shouldn't have brought me here today."

"Victoria, of course I should. What on Earth do you mean? You know as well as I that you need to attend events like this if you're to find yourself a husband—which is the purpose of the season, might I add. We came here on purpose so that you would have the opportunity to meet people. You still have that opportunity. Do not allow yourself to become so distraught over the opinion of one gentleman who has no sons anyway!" She didn't know for certain that he had no sons, but surely if he did, she would have seen him speaking to them and not only to his wife. He seemed altogether like a man who only had one person of any significance in his life.

And anyway, if he did have sons, it didn't matter. She knew her sister had someone else in mind to marry. "Believe me," she told Victoria, doing her best to be as comforting as she could, "we won't need to worry about Lord Brockhurst or his wife again. We've had all we ever will of them."

"I just can't stand it," Victoria said.

"What can't you stand?" Cressida asked her sister gently.

"Watching your future be ruined because of me," Victoria fretted. "Knowing how difficult I make it for you to find love—to find a match. Knowing that you don't have time for such things because you're busy tending to me. You care for my future more than you do for your own. You're a wonderful sister, Cressida—but don't you think I want you to be happy as well?"

"Your happiness will make me happy," Cressida assured her sister gently.

"That's kind. You're always kind. But you know that isn't what I mean. I want you to have love, Cressida. I want you to marry. I want you to have a family, and to be able to be more than just the spinster elder sister of the earl's disastrous younger daughter!"

"Why would you speak of yourself that way?" Cressida chided. "What happened with the drinks was an accident. Lord and Lady Brockhurst realize that. They don't think ill of either one of us over it. Allow yourself to move on, Victoria. Nothing happened today that can't be repaired."

"Oh, it isn't just today," Victoria sighed. "I feel this way all the time, Cressida. With everything that happens, everything that pushes you farther away from finding any sort of happiness and makes it harder to believe that…"

She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Harder to believe that what?" Cressida pressed.

"That you might ever marry! I know you are content to embrace a life of spinsterhood, but that isn't what I want for my sister—and I certainly don't want it to happen because of me!"

Cressida opened her mouth to say something reassuring—something about how spinsterhood wasn't so bad, really, in spite of what people might say.

Then the group of people standing before them parted, and Cressida was able to see across the lawn to where Lord Brockhurst stood.

He was speaking to Lord Feverton.

And as the two gentlemen talked, Lord Feverton looked up and made brief eye contact with Cressida—and Cressida knew, as surely as if she had been looking at her own face in the mirror, that she could trust what he had promised her. She knew what her future held.

He would keep to his word.

She had done what had been asked of her, and now he would do the same. He would abandon his attempt to marry Victoria and would marry Cressida instead.

The pride she had felt in accomplishing her task wavered, just slightly.

She had done the right thing and she knew it. She didn't want her sister forced into a marriage Victoria didn't want.

But for the first time, Cressida truly reckoned with the fact that—because of her hasty actions—she herself would soon be married to the Marquess of Feverton.