Chapter One

Cassandra and Malcom

One afternoon in late February, and Lady Cassandra Granshire, aged nineteen, was sitting in the drawing room with her mother and father. She was subtly tapping her foot in time as her younger sister Margaret skillfully played one of Beethoven's beautiful sonatas on the pianoforte. The notes floated through the air as Cassandra watched her sister's fingers dance elegantly across the keys, a tinge of wistfulness in her gaze. She herself had a moderate talent at the instrument, but Margaret's innate artistry when sitting at the keyboard often made her own efforts feel clumsy in comparison.

"Oh, very good, darling!" cried their mother, Lady Caroline Granshire, clapping her hands and bestowing a beaming smile on her youngest daughter despite the tear of emotion in her eye. Margaret, just sixteen and on the verge of her come out, was seated at the pianoforte in the corner of the drawing room, her round, dimpled cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"Thank you, Mama," she replied with a demure nod. To Cassandra, she appeared to expect nothing less as her due.

"She really is rather a prodigy," Lord Granshire, the girls' father happily agreed, his craggy, handsome, bewhiskered face split into a satisfied grin. "I don't know where she gets her talent from because it's certainly not from my side of the family. Tone deaf, the lot of us Granshires. Yet our little Maggie always manages to move me whether she plays a funeral march or a country jig. Well played, Maggie!"

"Thank you, Papa, that is very kind of you, but would you please not call me Maggie? I am nearly at my come out, and I wish to be seen as sophisticated young lady, not a little girl, thank you," Margaret said, frowning slightly at her father.

"Oh dear, silly old papa, eh? I'll try to remember, though it is hard to think of my little Maggie as being so grown up," the jovial marquess said, looking sheepish.

"Papa!" Margaret huffed, closing the piano. Papa appeared suitably chastened .

"Well, I was not such a bad player in my youth if you recall, dear," his wife suddenly reminded him. "And my mother was an excellent player too. That must be where she gets her musical talent from. But to be sure, Margaret exceeds us all in skill," she added, dabbing her eyes with a small handkerchief. "Every note she plays seems to touch one's heart."

"Yes, that really was beautiful, Maggi—I mean, Margaret," Cassandra said at last, sending her sister a smile of approval and a smattering of applause. "You must have practiced very hard."

"Oh, not really," Maggie said, casually dismissive. "Once I start playing, I just seem to feel the tune inside me."

Envy, as Cassandra well knew, was one of the seven deadly sins. Nevertheless, with Maggie's disclaimer and all the praise being heaped upon her, lauding her musical skill, she felt an undeniable twinge of that ugly emotion in her heart, accompanied by a sense of guilt. She loved Maggie and sincerely admired her sister's musical abilities on the pianoforte. She was proud of her, and she did not want to be a bad sister.

However, it did seem unfair that while Maggie's talents should so often draw praise and attention from their parents, her own talent and interest in singing was largely ignored and labeled a mere pastime. Maggie's talent was nurtured by the hire of specially selected music teachers, but Cassandra's appeal for a singing teacher had been laughed off. And now that Maggie's come out ball was imminent, Cassandra knew her sister would be getting even more of her fair share of the limelight than ever.

She was in her sister's shadow, and the little twinge of envy refused to budge.

The following Friday was the first of March, when the London Season, which had languidly begun to roll out in January, got into its social stride. The day had been deemed by the Marquess and Marchioness of Granshire as perfect for throwing a ball to celebrate their youngest daughter's official entry into society.

The frenzy of preparations for the ball, the arranging the catering, the wine, the décor of the ballroom, the music, the obtaining of the many boxes of beeswax candles for the chandeliers, not to mention the interminable shopping trips into town for dress fittings and the like for the ladies of the house, had built to a fever pitch by the Friday night of the ball. The crème de la crème of English society would be attending, and Lady Granshire was insistent that everything had to be just so.

Having finished her toilette with the help of her lady's maid Anna, and being satisfied with her appearance, Cassandra finally stepped out of her chamber. As she made her way along the hallway to see if her mother and Maggie were ready, the very air seemed to thrum with pent-up excitement and expectation. Maggie's chamber door was ajar. Hearing voices, Cassandra paused outside before peeping through the crack to see inside. Maggie was standing in front of the long looking glass.

"You look a picture, Milady," said Doreen, one of the two lady's maids who were fussing over Maggie, who was looking every inch the fresh, young debutante in her high-waisted, puffed-sleeved dress of pale satin. It was prettily set off by its pink sash, and the trimming of rich braid made from tiny seed pearls shone in the lamplight. The pearls matched perfectly with Maggie's earrings, choker, and pair of bracelets, as well as the hairpins securing her mass of fair curls atop her head in an elegant style. "But let me just adjust the bow at the back again to make sure it's straight," the maid added.

"Thank you, Doreen, it is very important to get every detail right," Maggie told her, her face deadly serious as the maid went about her task.

Cassandra knew that getting such small details ‘right' was what her sister cared about almost more than anything else. She wondered why she was not more like the neat and obedient Maggie, who appeared to thrive on the strict social rules of the Ton which Cassandra found both restrictive and ridiculous. Maggie did not share her craving for experience and adventure, being much more traditional in her tastes. But Cassandra was determined to be supportive of Maggie, as was her duty. It was her big night, after all.

She continued to watch unseen while the other maid, Milly, held up two tiny crystal flasks of perfume for Maggie's inspection.

"Which shall it be, Milady?" she asked with a smile. "Rose and geranium or gardenia. The gardenia is lovely," she added, taking a gentle sniff before offering the vials up to Maggie's delicate nostrils .

"My, it surely is," Maggie agreed, smelling the vial. "I have not worn it before, but I think it is a little more grown up. I shall wear the gardenia."

"A wise choice, Milady," Milly replied, putting one vial aside and opening the other. "Now, hold still a moment, I must not get this on your dress, for it will never come out." She carefully dabbed the scent behind Maggie's ears and wrists with the glass stopper before putting a few drops on her hair.

"There," Milly said at last as both maids stood back to admire their handiwork. "You shall be the belle of the ball, Milady!"

"Aye, all the gentlemen will be staring at you, Milady," Doreen added with a mischievous air.

"Well, one hopes to make a good impression at one's debut," Maggie said excitedly, admiring her appearance in the glass. "However, as Mama says, the Season is a serious business, and I would still like to attract a suitor by the end of it if I can. I do not want to be like my sister, still single and starting my second Season. Since it is such bad form for a younger sister to be wed before her elder, I fear that if she does not find one soon, I shall never be able to marry. Sometimes, I think she is doing it on purpose to vex me."

"Why, I am sure that is not the case, Milady," Milly said, gaining a vehement nod of agreement from Doreen. "Lady Cassie would never do such a thing, I am sure. She wants only the best for you."

"Perhaps this will be her lucky year too," Doreen suggested. "Just think, Milady, we could be looking forward to having two weddings at the end of the Season!"

"Oh, Lord, that would be even worse," Maggie opined. "I should like my wedding to be the best of the year. I would not wish to be overshadowed by having to share the limelight."

Cassandra stifled a gasp. Maggie had voiced her concerns about her still being single many times to her face, as had their mother. Maggie genuinely feared her marriage prospects would suffer from Cassandra's failure to find a suitor last Season. Nevertheless, to hear her sister gossiping about it with the maids was hurtful. Did none of them think she had her own dreams for romance? Was it her fault if Mr. Right—who would be a passionate lover of music like her, of course—had not yet shown his face and bedazzled her as she wished to be bedazzled?

But she put her hurt feelings aside, remembering her duty to Maggie as her older sister on this important night. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on her face, she pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

"My you do look lovely, Sister," she said, noticing the slightly guilty looks on the girls' faces as she entered. "That dress fits perfectly. You are bound to attract much favorable attention and make a good impression."

"Thank you, Sister. You look very pretty too," Maggie replied, giving Cassandra a small smile. Their mother came in then. Clad in purple silk, long feathers in her hair, she bustled over to Maggie, wreathed in smiles, ignoring Cassandra.

"Oh, Margaret, you look very pretty indeed," she gushed. "Was I not correct about that pearl beading? I must say, you do your father and I much credit. We are so proud of you. Now, the guests have begun arriving already. We shall greet them, and I shall send up a footman to tell you when to make your grand entrance on the staircase."

"Very well, Mama. I am ready, I think," Maggie said animatedly, clearly looking forward to making an impact on the Ton .

"Can I wait with her, Mama? I can escort her down the stairs," Cassandra offered, keen to escape greeting duties. Her mother turned a frown on her.

"No, of course not, Cassie. You are required downstairs, to help greet the guests as they come in. Come along," she said in no uncertain terms, hurrying from the room.

Cassandra knew it was no good arguing. "I shall see you shortly, Maggie. I am sure your entrance will be a great success," she assured her sister before trotting after Lady Granshire.

"Now, remember, dear, this is your second Season," her mother said as they headed for the main landing. As she sighed internally, over the bannister, Cassandra could now see her father greeting the first of the guests as the butler sent them through. There was a low hum of conversation and music playing in the background from the small orchestra stationed in the ballroom. "Remember your duties. Help your sister to make good introductions tonight, and while you're at it, find yourself a suitor whom your father and I can approve of, by the end of the Season, please. Now, keep in mind what I have told you before. Gentlemen like a lady to be agreeable, not contrary and argumentative and full of her own opinions. This is Margaret's night, so allow her to enjoy the attention and do nothing to spoil it for her by being too outspoken or making a spectacle of yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mama, I understand," Cassandra said, a little hurt to be thought of as so potentially selfish. "But you know, I want Maggie to have a wonderful time too, one she will remember forever."

"Good, because Papa and I are relying on you to do your bit in making sure Margaret meets the right people. Now, come along, we must join your father on greeting duties," she finished, leading Cassandra over to where the Marquess was standing, shaking the hands of the elderly Lord and Lady Carlisle and their extensive retinue. She gave the couple a deep and respectful curtsy, earning a rare smile of approval from Lady Carlisle.

Greeting duties were interrupted when the majority of the guests had arrived. Lady Granshire stood halfway up the staircase and rang a spoon against a crystal tumbler to alert the gathering to her daughter's imminent entrance. Cassandra and the guests watched from below as the maidenly vision that was Maggie appeared at the top of the stairs. There were gasps of admiration and applause as Maggie, who did indeed look the picture of radiant feminine beauty, tripped smoothly down the stairs in what Cassandra knew was a well-practiced motion. She was received with much apparent admiration and soon disappeared into the ballroom, swallowed up by an adoring crowd.

Cassandra followed, making her way through the gathered guests, ready to attend Maggie and ensure she met only the right wealthy, eligible young bachelors in the room. It was galling to think that little Maggie was now all grown up and formally a member of High Society, which Cassandra looked upon with derision for the limited opportunities it provided for more intrepid young ladies like herself.

She soon joined Maggie at their mother's side, ready to be the dutiful sister. She was amused by the procession of young men waiting to be introduced to Maggie before fawning at her feet and frantically scribbling their names on her dance card at the first available opening. Since they could hardly ignore Cassandra without being found outright rude, she found her own dance card quickly filling up too.

"I hope you do not intend to steal any of my possible suitors," Maggie whispered to her in a quieter moment. "You should be looking at the older gentlemen, should you not? They are more suitable for your age group."

"Maggie! You are the limit sometimes. Of course, I am not going to steal your suitors! And I'll remind you that I am only nineteen. That is hardly at death's door," Cassandra defended herself, annoyed, at the pressure her sister did not seem to realize she was putting her under, as well as amused.

"Well, if you have to dance with them, the least you can do is talk about me and say what an accomplished young lady I am," Maggie said.

"Oh, I will, you can be sure of that," Cassandra promised, her ironic tone flying right over Maggie's head.

"And when you speak of me, please refer to me as Margaret."

"Oh, all right. If it pleases you, Milady," Cassandra said, bobbing a mock curtsy. She noticed the edges of Maggie's lips curling upward. She added, "But whatever you do, do not laugh. The consequences could be disastrous. People could see that the prim and proper Lady Margaret is really a laughing little imp."

Maggie burst out into tinkling laughter, immediately covering her mouth to stifle it. "Stop teasing me, Cassie. We must both be on our best behaviour," she said when she had stopped giggling. "When we read about tonight in the gossip columns, I want my debut to be deemed a great success by all of London, and you must be a part of that."

Cassandra had no time to think on Maggie's words because at that moment, their father got up on the podium by the orchestra and declared the dance floor officially open.

"And the first dance is to be a cotillion," he announced to general excitement. The orchestra struck up the stately melody that would see couples, arms linked, parading around the room decorously, all in a line, to the rhythm of a familiar tune.

A smiling Maggie was soon whisked away onto the floor by her scheduled dance partner. Cassandra's first partner came to claim her, and she found herself arm in arm with young Lord Gregory Fontane, Viscount Wilmersedale, measuring out the well-worn steps of the cotillion. Disappointingly, despite his youthful good looks and dancing ability, the Lord's main topic of conversation was his new silk waistcoat and the staggering sum it had cost him. Cassandra enjoyed the dance yet felt she came away from it better informed on that subject than she ever needed to be.

Now the dancing was in full swing, Cassandra soon realized that Maggie did not need her attentions. It seemed unlikely her sister would be leaving the dance floor any time soon. Their parents were engaged deep in conversation with Lord Castlerey and his wife, their good friends. Seeing the chance for a little independent exploration, Cassie looked around for a glimpse of her best friend, Lady Diana Melville.

She had greeted Diana and her parents at the door earlier, but the two girls had been unable to talk privately and had agreed to meet later on. Cassandra spotted Diana standing with her parents, who were chatting to an elderly couple. Diana was casting about the room as if looking for someone. Hoping it was her, Cassandra gave her a little wave and quickly caught her friend's eye. Pleased to see Diana's face light up, Cassandra smiled and hurried over to join her.