Lord Deverill's Secret (21 page)

Darling, darling Cassie,

Thank you so much for saying Jane can come and stay.

Moll looked at Cassandra enquiringly.

“In her last letter, Lizzie asked me if Jane could stay. I read it in the country,” she explained.

Moll nodded, satisfied, and Cassandra continued with the letter.

She is in your det FOREVER. We have been to the library and have borrowed a book by Mrs. Radcliffe which is quite HORRID….

“Horrid seems to be her favourite word at the moment,” said Cassandra, breaking off.

“Aah,” said Moll sagely.

Cassandra began to read again.

…It is all about a heroin who gets married and has a misterious husband and Jane and I are NEVER getting married unless we meet a markwiss, and Jane says she would prefer a dook. But I am going to marry a markwiss with a scar across his cheek because he has been in a duel fighting for the honour of the lady he loves…

“I wonder who that might be?” asked Cassandra with a laugh.

“It’ll be Miss Lizzie,” said Moll seriously. “A nice marquess would be just the thing.”

I’d be at a ball and I’d have a ostrich fether fan. I’d waft it in front of me and say, Thank you, my lord, you may tempt me to a glass of shampain, and How kind of you, Your Grace. A dish of oysters would be most welcum. Then I’d see him—my markwiss—and he’d see me and say to his friend “Who is that bewty? The one with the gowlden hair? Introduce me.” He’d ask me to dance, and then he’d ask me to marry him.

“Ahh,” said Moll again, entranced by Lizzie’s picture. “That’s how it’ll be.”

“She might not marry a marquess,” Cassandra pointed out reasonably.

“No,” said Moll, roused to battle on behalf of her beloved Lizzie, “she might marry a prince instead,” and she glared at Cassandra, as though daring her to contradict her.

Cassandra did not dare, but instead folded the letter and put it away.

“That might be Lizzie’s prince now,” said Cassandra humorously as there came a rap at the door.

“Hrumph!” said Moll, standing up. “John’s gone to see to the horses. I’d best see who that is.”

It will be Justin, thought Cassandra, tidying her hair in front of the mirror, but when the drawing-room door opened it was not Justin who was shown in, it was Lord Armington.

“Lord Armington,” said Cassandra in surprise.

“Miss Paxton. I am glad to find you at home.”

“It is good of you to call. Won’t you sit down?”

“Thank you, but I prefer to stand.”

Cassandra had a sudden presentiment of what was to come. She knew that any young lady would be glad to receive an offer from Lord Armington, with his dark good looks, his elegant dress, and his air of good breeding, but if he asked for her hand, she knew she must turn him down.

“I am glad I have found you at home as I have something particular to say to you,” said Lord Armington. “You must know how I esteem and admire you. From the first moment I saw you in the Assembly Rooms I was struck with your face, and the time I have spent in your company since has taught me that your breeding and character match your beauty.” He knelt elegantly before her. “Miss Paxton, will you be so good as to bestow upon me your hand in marriage?”

“Lord Armington, do, please get up,” said Cassandra. “I am very sorry…it is such an honour…I am conscious of the very great favour you have done me in asking me to be your wife…but I’m afraid I can’t accept.”

“Not accept?”

His tone of voice, and his expression, betrayed his surprise. And small wonder, thought Cassandra with an inward sigh. A man of his worth must never have imagined that his suit would be rejected.

“I’m afraid not.”

He behaved with dignity and decorum, standing up and dusting an imaginary speck of dirt from his knees, as though kneeling on the floor and then rising again was the most ordinary occupation.

“May I ask why not?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t love you,” she said.

“Ah.” He became thoughtful. Then he said, “I believe this is your first summer of engagements?”

“Yes, it is, but that has nothing to do with the matter, I assure you.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Only time will tell. You will allow me to say that it is not unusual for young ladies to look for love when they first come out. I know that your entry into society has been delayed because of the sad circumstances surrounding your family in recent years, and I understand that you have seen little yet of life. Perhaps when you have had a chance to do so you will feel differently. My own feelings will not change. I cannot profess a deep and abiding passion, but having outgrown my youth I am pleased rather than otherwise, as passion can be very uncomfortable. But I have an eye for beauty, and you are the most exquisite young lady I have ever seen. It is no idle compliment,” he said, when she tried to protest. “I am something of a connoisseur, and I can tell you that your beauty has no equal. I would still like to be able to call you my wife. At the moment the charms of a comfortable, I may even say luxurious, establishment, do not weigh heavily with you, but in the future, perhaps, they might. I should also mention that your sister would be most welcome. There is plenty of room for her at Armington House. She would have all the best masters, in addition to her seminary, and I would regard it as my duty—indeed my pleasure—to help you arrange her come out, and to give her a marriage portion, so that she might be well settled in life.”

“Thank you, you are most kind,” said Cassandra, feeling more and more sorry that she could not accept him.

He smiled at her.

“I honour you for your feelings,” he said. “If you contract a love match I will wish you happy. But if you do not, you have only to say a word to have my offer renewed. Until then, Miss Paxton, I will bid you good day.”

He made her a low bow and withdrew.

Cassandra clasped her hands in front of her and walked over to the fireplace. She stopped short as she caught sight of her face in the gilded mirror hanging above it. She looked worried. And small wonder. She had just turned down a most eligible offer, one that would have ensured her future comfort, and Lizzie’s future prosperity as well.

Have I been foolish? were the words etched across her face. She did not want luxury for herself, but she did not just have herself to think of. She had Lizzie, too. She could provide for them both after a fashion, but was that enough? The little girl might be happy now, when all she needed was a pony, but as she grew older she would have different needs. Fashionable clothes, a season, a chance to marry…and Cassandra would not be able to give her them. But Lord Armington would, and he had made it clear that he would do it gladly. To offer Lizzie a marriage portion…it was extraordinarily kind.

She heard footsteps in the hall. Pinching her cheeks to put a little colour into them, she turned and faced the door. It was opened to reveal Maria.

“Cassie! I’ve just seen Lord Armington leaving your house,” said Maria, her eyes shining with excitement. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Has he proposed?”

Cassandra gave a rueful smile. “Yes.”

“Oh, Cassie, congratulations! I knew how it would be. I have said so all along. You will be Lady Armington! You will have clothes and carriages and a house in town. Lady Armington! How well it sounds. I can only hope you won’t be too grand to speak to me when you are married.”

Cassandra could bear no more.

“Maria, I turned him down.”

Maria looked stunned.

“You turned him down?” she gasped.

“Yes.”

“But Cassie, why? Everything that is most eligible…An offer like that will not come again.”

“I know.”

Maria shook her head. “I don’t understand you,” she said.

“I couldn’t marry him because I don’t love him,” said Cassandra simply.

“There is more to marriage than love,” said Maria.

“That is easy for you to say, but would you have married Harry if you hadn’t loved him?” asked Cassandra.

“No,” Maria admitted, “but that’s different. I didn’t have a mortgaged estate and a sister to care for. And besides, I can’t see why you don’t love Lord Armington. I’m sure it can’t be difficult. He’s handsome, charming and well mannered. He’s interesting, and he sincerely values you, and he would welcome Lizzie.”

“Yes, I know he would, he told me so himself. But I just couldn’t do it.”

Maria looked downcast.

“Oh, Cassie, I was hoping you’d make a good marriage so that you would be able to keep your town house,” she said. “Without it you will hardly ever be in Brighton. You can stay with us at any time, you know that, but it is not the same. We will miss you.”

“You will have to come and stay with us in the country.”

“Of course we will, but I did so want to have you here. Oh, well, never mind,” said Maria, putting her gloom behind her. “At least we have you for another week or so. We will have to make the most of it. We will be giving a small dinner party on Wednesday. Perhaps you might like one of the gentlemen there.”

“I am beginning to agree with Harry. You are incorrigible!” said Cassandra.

“But you will come to my party all the same,” said Maria. “I’m afraid I can’t,” said Cassandra. “I would like to, but I am going to the Pavilion.”

Maria was momentarily speechless.

“The
Pavilion
?” she said at last.

“Yes.”

“To see
the Prince of Wales
?”

“I believe he lives there, yes,” Cassandra teased her.

“Well! I never thought…I never imagined…Cassie, this is wonderful. I am green with envy. Who are you going with? How did you secure an invitation?”

“I am going with Lord Deverill’s sister,” she said.

“Lord Deverill’s sister,” said Maria, casting her a thoughtful glance.

“Yes. It is just kindness,” said Cassandra, trying to fend off the questions she could see hovering on Maria’s lips.

“Of course,” said Maria with a straight face. “She invites all her casual acquaintances to go to the Pavilion. Will her brother be there?” she added nonchalantly.

“I believe so,” said Cassandra.

Maria’s eyes sparkled.

“Now I know why you turned down Lord Armington.”

“Maria, you’re wrong.”

“You can’t lie to me. I know there has been something between you and Lord Deverill recently but I didn’t like to say anything because I believed it was causing you pain, but there is something about you when you are with him. You seem more alive than when he is not there. I think you are meant to be together,” she said simply.

“There is nothing in the acquaintance, I assure you,” said Cassandra.

“Very well, if you say so, then I will pretend to believe you.”

Cassandra felt uncomfortable, and was glad when Maria changed the subject.

“Have you decided what you will wear?” Maria asked.

“No. I don’t have anything suitable,” said Cassandra.

“Neither do I, or you would be welcome to borrow it,” said Maria. “You must have something new.”

“It’s impossible,” said Cassandra with a sigh.

“You can’t meet the Prince of Wales in an old frock,” said Maria.

Cassandra hesitated. What Maria said was very true.

“Cassie, you must have something new. If you are determined to sell the town house, then some of the proceeds will pay for it. Madame Joubier will not mind waiting a few months for payment, and if she knows you are going to the Pavilion she will give you a favourable price. If one of her creations is seen in such exclusive company, it will be bound to bring more business in her way.”

Cassandra was tempted.

“Perhaps I might have something new,” she said hesitantly.

Maria stood up.

“I am going to take you to her salon right away, before you change your mind.”

“She won’t see me without an appointment,” Cassandra prevaricated.

“When she knows you are going to dine with the Prince, she will see you straight away,” said Maria.

“And she won’t be able to have anything ready so quickly.”

“She always keeps a few gowns half made for emergencies. She told me so when I visited her once, in need of a new gown in a hurry. I was delighted to find she had a good selection that were partially made up, ready for just such an event. She will dress you for the Pavilion if she has to keep a team of seamstresses up all night between now and Wednesday to do it.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cassandra looked into the cheval glass and could hardly believe what she saw. Her new gown moulded itself round her form and fell in soft folds to the floor. Made of satin, it had an overskirt of white gauze, with short puffed sleeves and a modest train. Moll had piled her hair on top of her head in an elaborate chignon which glistened in the candlelight, then wrapped a string of pearls round the base, to match the pearls at her throat. They had belonged to her mother and were the only form of jewellery she possessed, but to night she wanted nothing more.

“You look like a fairy,” said Moll gruffly.

Cassandra smiled and kissed her. But as she pulled on her gloves and went downstairs, she reminded herself that she was not going to an evening’s entertainment. She was going to try and catch a killer.

Anne’s carriage arrived promptly and Cassandra left the house. The night was fine, with just a suggestion of a breeze. A few stars sprinkled the darkening sky as she entered the carriage.

“I am so pleased you could join us,” said Anne.

She was dressed in a beautiful gown of azure silk which was trimmed with matching ribbon.

“Delighted to see you again, my dear,” said Charles affably.

“It was very good of you to invite me,” said Cassandra.

“Nonsense. Any friend of Justin’s is welcome in our house. We are so pleased the two of you met. You have been good for Justin, Cassandra,” said Anne.

Cassandra did not know what to reply, and hastily turned the conversation.

“I am longing to see the Pavilion. The Prince has been busy altering it again, I believe,” she said.