Chapter Thirty-Four
“Stop working, we’re going to be late,” Cassandra commanded at the door to Seth’s office. Bent over his writing desk, papers askew, Seth tapped his pencil against the corner of the desk without looking up from his sketch.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” His gaze traveled absently from his work to her. “Don’t you want to be fashionably—”
Seth’s jaw slackened. The pencil dropped from his hand, hit the desk with a clatter, and rolled onto the floor.
“Good evening, Mr. Reeves.” She dropped into a low curtsy.
The red silk of her skirts spread out like unfurled petals, her hair pinned with roses and silver, matching the deep crimson of his cravat and the silver of his vest. Astonishment turned to hunger in his eyes.
They locked onto hers and traveled over her with deliberate focus.
“We aren’t going.”
He bounded toward her.
With a flutter in her chest and a pitched shriek, she jumped away from him and to the open door. He pulled it closed before she could reach it and caught her in half a step. He anchored his arms around her waist and held her back against his chest as he took slow steps back to the chair.
She giggled and squirmed in his hold.
“We had a deal! Not until after the ball!” she protested as he sat her on his lap. One arm held her to him while the other worked at her fastenings between them.
“Your dress is falling off, love. I would hate for it to fall to the floor. Allow me to fix it.”
“No, it isn’t!”
But it was already loosening with quick tugs and gentle pulls of fabric. Cool air ghosted across her bosom as her dress slid from her shoulders. She held the top in place and scolded him.
“Seth! It took hours to get into this dress!”
“Hours, you say? We need to sack your lady’s maid. She didn’t even tighten your corset properly.” A gasping rush of air entered her lungs as her bindings released. “Can’t have you leave the house like this, darling. People might talk.”
Seth left a trail of open-mouth kisses over her upper back, causing the fine hairs on her body to rise. He noted her reaction and grinned against her shoulder. The length of his sex was as hard as his breathing as he gripped her hips and rocked forward.
And really… what was one missed event?
“We have to go,” she told herself as much as him.
“We will,” he whispered against her ear. “Raise your skirts.”
Her voice rose an octave. “In a chair?”
“Or… I could bend you over my desk.” He placed her hands on the desk and molded her to lean forward. “Yes. Like that.”
“There’s no time,” she said, even as she lifted her skirts.
“Five minutes.”
She gave him a dubious expression over her shoulder. “It’ll take longer than five minutes—” her words ended with a moan when he parted her drawers. Reaching the center of her, he slid into her deliciously. She gripped the desk tighter and gasped.
“It will take me one minute to please you,” he promised. “I’ll need four minutes to fix your dress.”
With flushed cheeks and a grin that could have illuminated the event by itself, Seth helped Cassandra from the carriage in front of General Martin’s manor twenty minutes behind schedule.
They stopped briefly to greet General Martin and his wife, Heather, already deep in conversation with other guests.
The scent of flowers, perfumes, and combined musk of too many bodies crammed into one area steeped the air.
Hundreds of candles adorned the crystal chandelier above, and silver candelabras lined against the walls.
The flames flickered dangerously close to emerald green drapes framing tall windows.
Seth watched each candle intently, and Cassandra placed her hand on the crook of his arm.
His boots clipped over marble flooring as she navigated them past well-dressed aristocrats in black tailcoats and gowns of every color, but Cassandra was the only lady audaciously dressed in red.
Before, she might have felt humiliated by the attention, but now, the haughty expressions of those they passed meant nothing compared to the adoration in Seth’s eyes.
They followed the sound of cellos and violins to the ballroom. Seth leaned in. “Cooper is in the corner alone.” He pointed to Matthew, and then to the other side of the room. “The Dorchesters are over there, but they have a crowd around them. Who should we greet first?”
Cassandra swiveled her gaze from one side of the ballroom to the other.
As she considered his question, she caught sight of Lady Worthing standing in the corner opposite Matthew, also by herself.
There would be no avoiding her in the future.
There was no better time to face this problem than now, and no better way than head on.
“You go talk to Matthew, I’ll meet you there in a moment.” She made a face. “I need to talk to Lady Hon—Lady Worthing,” she corrected.
“If she slaps you again, I’m not going to apologize for my actions.”
“Go.” Cassandra pushed him.
“I’ll be right across the way. Remember our self-defense lessons? Duck low, elbow to the stomach.” He jabbed the heel of his palm skyward in a sharp thrust. “Straight up to the chin.”
She glared at him, and he smirked.
With her chin up and shoulders straight, Cassandra approached and curtsied to the woman who had once knocked her to the ground.
“Good evening, Lady Worthing.”
Lady Worthing’s gazed raked over her from head to toe, unimpressed.
“You can skip the small-talk, Mrs. Reeves. We’ve been seen in public together and I didn’t assault you. I’ll smile at you.” She smiled with her mouth only. “You’ll smile at me.” Cassandra returned the gesture, and Lady Worthing waved her fan. “Now you can leave.”
Cassandra’s gaze shifted to Lady Samantha and Miss Georgiana. Each glided through the ballroom on the arms of attractive potential suitors, laughing as they danced. Occasionally, they glanced over to where they stood before promptly looking away.
Lady Worthing’s face hardened.
“They won’t even speak to me now,” she bit out.
“No one will. I’ve received no calls, no invitations.
I have been snubbed in every room that I have been in for months.
Not that it’ll matter soon, as I’ll be in confinement.
” She scoffed. “I’m expecting, but I suppose everyone knows that.
” Her eyes traveled back to Cassandra. “Are you?”
With as amorous as Seth was, it could be any day. And Cassandra was ready to take that next step with him. She smiled at the thought. “Not yet, but hopefully soon.”
An uncomfortable silence passed between them, and Cassandra considered leaving Lady Worthing to her misery, but the sadness in her eyes kept her planted where she stood. It was the same expression she had seen months ago, in the mirrors at Cooper House.
The look of a girl without options.
“May I ask you a personal question?” Lady Worthing asked after some time.
“You may.”
“Is Mr. Reeves…” She looked to the floor and whispered, “Is he gentle with you?”
Cassandra’s face fell. A lump formed in her throat. Swallowing around it, she fought the urge to reach out and hold the other woman.
“Oh, Honora—”
“Don’t pity me,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t have if it were you.”
“He’s gentle,” Cassandra said. Across the ballroom, Seth grinned while he goaded Matthew.
Everything was back to normal, and yet so completely different.
She was blessed to spend every night with a husband who respected and appreciated her.
Her heart broke for Lady Worthing, laying in her bed alone at night, praying that she would birth a boy.
Cassandra would pray for that, too.
“I apologize for what I said at the modiste,” Cassandra said. “That was cruel of me.”
“No, you were right.” Lady Worthing’s hard expression didn’t ease, nor did her tone when she said, “I’m sorry that I slapped you.”
“Are you?”
“No. Especially not now,” she admitted. Watching her husband talk to her parents across the room, she continued as if Cassandra wasn’t there, “I’ve always despised you.
Your family loved you, obscenely. Mine scarcely tolerated me.
I married a man who they arranged. The dutiful daughter, aptly named.
” The tremble in her shoulders stiffened as soon as it arrived.
“You caused the biggest scandal of the year. Now look at you, welcomed with open arms. Nothing ever happens to you.”
“I’ve been fortunate,” Cassandra agreed.
She was fortunate to have a family that loved her.
Lady Worthing had wealth beyond measure, and once she learned how to use her power, she would be a force that could keep even Aunt Valentine on the back foot.
On the other side of that coin, all she would have was loneliness, and if she were fortunate, a son.
One person was hardly enough family to sustain a life.
Life was plagued with misfortune, all picked clean at the ton’s merciless maw. From the fringes, there was little that Cassandra could do to fight against it, but she could provide love to a woman who was given none.
“Honora.” Cassandra met Lady Worthing’s eyes with a genuine smile. “Do you have plans for Saturday morning?”
***
Seth cautiously watched Cassandra approach Lady Worthing on the other side of the ballroom. Watching his steps to ensure he didn’t walk on the plethora of skirts dancing around, he made his way to Cooper. He stood alone, still as a statue, with an untouched flute of champagne in his hand.
Focused across the ballroom, Cooper didn’t hear his approach.
Curiously following Cooper’s gaze, Seth watched the Dorchesters socialize.
Lady Jasmine entertained a crowd of gentlemen, her voice carrying to where they stood.
Animatedly telling a tale, she threw her head back and laughed.
Seth glanced back at Cooper, who looked at Lady Jasmine like he was starving.
Good Lord, was I that obvious?
With all the confidence and blind optimism of a newlywed, Seth decided Cooper needed a push.
“Someone should ask her to dance.”