Chapter Eight
Three days after her introduction to the Lord of Devil’s Acre, Cassandra accepted an invitation to join Lady Corby for tea. Finally, something to take her mind off the bargain and her butler.
Phillip had left London again and had not returned. His continued absence made her wonder as to his dedication to his duties. The moment he returned, she would follow through with her promise.
Reuben remained dutiful, not once allowing what had transpired between them to affect his daily tasks.
He served faithfully and without question, but Cassandra noticed the way his gaze lingered when he believed they were alone.
Her body ignited under his scrutiny. She longed to feel his touch once more, to lose herself in the pleasure she knew he could offer.
Reckless desire. That was precisely what it was, and it would only lead to ruin.
Bundled in her warmest woolen cloak and furs, she forewent the carriage and instead ventured on foot the several blocks to Lady Corby’s residence on Bruton Street. The vigorous exercise did wonders for her mood. Even the biting cold and the overcast skies could not dampen it.
By the time she’d reached the lovely brick townhome, Cassandra felt the sting in her cheeks flushed with the exertion and her spirits lifted. A warm cup of tea and some friendly companionship would only compound the effects on her disposition.
The butler led her to the parlor, where a warm fire burned merrily in the hearth. Boughs of greenery hung over the stone mantel dotted with candles and paper flowers. A warm and welcoming scene awaited her arrival.
The dowager viscountess rose from her seat on the floral settee. “Your Grace, how lovely to see you.”
“Likewise, Lady Corby. Thank you for the kind invitation.”
“Heavens,” Lady Corby exclaimed. “You are positively glowing.”
“Oh, really?” Cassandra pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks. “It must be the effects of exercise and the cold air.”
“You walked here?” Lady Corby asked with muted surprise. “How bold of you to take on the cold. I myself enjoy walking, but I much prefer the warmth of the summer sun to the cold embrace of the winter air.”
“Ah, yes.” Cassandra nodded. “If I remember correctly, you enjoy spending time in your gardens with your namesake.”
Lady Corby blushed and waved a hand. “I pride myself on my ability to nurture and foster growth. Plants are far more pliant than people, I’ve noticed.”
“Very true. Although I do not count myself very fortunate with plants and flowers. They often wither when left in my care.”
“Perhaps you have not found a plant suitable to your abilities,” Lady Corby remarked as she poured the tea.
“Alas, I fear my talents are better directed elsewhere.” Cassandra lifted the cup to her lips and the liquid warmed her from the inside. “Now, your invitation mentioned a fundraising event for the Mayberry Academy.”
“Yes.” Lady Corby set her tea aside and rested her hands in her lap. “As you know, most of the school’s income rests on donations from ladies such as ourselves. Patronesses in search of a better future for young women of lesser means.”
“Do our donations not cover the costs accrued? From what I gathered, the school houses a hundred girls and an adequate staff. Surely, our monthly donations cover the necessities.” Cassandra had researched the school and discussed the opportunity with her solicitor.
The amount set aside for the school would certainly aid in their education.
“Donations from the current patronesses do, in fact, cover the day-to-day function of the school, never fear. But…” She paused, her hands twisting together.
“It is the building in which the problem lies. The owner has doubled the rent over the past few years and refuses to make any updates and repairs to the aging property. The other ladies and I think it would be wise to purchase the building outright and make the necessary repairs ourselves.”
Cassandra frowned. She knew of men with souls compounded with greed, but she never had course to address such a situation. It had never been her place.
“Is it possible?” she asked, curiosity and concern growing in equal measure.
“We will have to utilize some more—creative methods, but I believe it is possible.” Lady Corby averted her gaze.
“Why do I feel like you have already found a solution?” Cassandra asked, her gaze narrowing.
“Well, the method is a bit unorthodox, but I have been assured—if we can raise the funds to purchase the building, the rest will be handled without incident.”
“I have two questions.” Cassandra set her cup aside. “Firstly, how do you propose we raise the funds?”
Lady Corby grinned, her eyes sparkling. “A masquerade ball. It will be unlike any other event of the season. A veritable banquet of virtue and vice.” She paused for effect. “The Sinners and Saints Masquerade.”
Excitement pulsed through Cassandra’s veins. A ball, but not just any ball—a masquerade, where even the most prestigious in society could pretend to be anything other than what they truly were. An opportunity for revelry and delights. She nodded as the idea took root in her mind.
“The cost of admission will pay for the event as well as add to the coffers for the purchase of the building.” Lady Corby leaned forward in anticipation. “What do you think?”
“An excellent idea,” Cassandra confessed with a smile.
“Wonderful.” Lady Corby clapped her hands together. “I am so relieved you agree.”
“But I have doubts on how you will succeed in purchasing the building once you have obtained the funds.”
“Oh, that is but a trivial thing compared to obtaining the coin needed for the purchase.”
“My second question.” Cassandra arched her brow. “Who will be making the purchase? I doubt the owner will sell it to a group of widows or even a woman in general.”
“Well…” Lady Corby’s blush deepened to crimson. “That is a bit of a moral dilemma.”
Cassandra straightened at the admission, a twinge of unease flowing through her.
“You see, madam, a widow of our acquaintance has offered the services of a most trusted friend and ally to purchase the building, and in return, he agreed to donate it to the society for the use as a school.”
“A trusted friend.” Cassandra tapped her finger on her chin. “And who is this widow of your acquaintance?”
“Mrs. Delilah Gallagher. The former Dowager Viscountess Everly.”
Mrs. Gallagher had a reputation for being unruly and independent. Not that Cassandra saw anything wrong with that, but the ton had a way of shaming those who did not follow the rules of society.
Over the years, Cassandra had conversed with Mrs. Gallagher, the former viscountess, perhaps a dozen times, but there had never been any friendship forged during those encounters. It begged the question, what connections did the woman have that could aid in their endeavor?
“Mrs. Gallagher is one of the original donors of the school. She began before she married an American businessman, Warren Gallagher. Now they both invest heavily and wish for it to succeed,” Lady Corby responded. “I have no reason to doubt their sincerity or integrity.”
“This trusted friend of hers, have you met them?”
“No,” Lady Corby’s countenance dropped. “But I have it on the highest authority from Mrs. Gallagher that he can be trusted.”
“Dare I ask who this mysterious benefactor is?” Cassandra asked with a laugh.
“The Lord of Devil’s Acre.”
Deep within her chest, Cassandra’s heart ceased beating. “You cannot be serious.”
“You must not believe the rumors surrounding him. Contrary to those salacious lies, he is an honest and loyal man who will uphold his end of any agreement.”
The room began to spin. Cassandra gripped the arms of the chair to steady herself.
She slammed her eyes closed. This could not be true.
It was retribution for the sins of her husband.
It had to be. There could be no other explanation for it.
The Lord of Devil’s Acre. Surely, this was a jest. Cassandra inhaled three deep breaths, exhaling slowly between each.
“Are you well, madam?” Lady Corby leaned closer. “Shall I fetch a doctor?”
“No, no. I-I am well,” Cassandra stuttered. “Just—surprised.”
“Such a shock is understandable.” Lady Corby offered her some tea. “Drink this. It will help.”
Cassandra sipped the brew, her mind spinning like a wheel on a racing carriage. Surely, this could be no coincidence. Perhaps she could use it to her advantage.
“This man,” Cassandra said, refusing to use his cursed, illegitimate title, “is trustworthy?”
“I have it on the best authority from Mrs. Gallagher.” Lady Corby nodded vigorously. “He is a man of his word and will do right by our organization.”
“And what of other agreements he has made?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice even.
“Well, to that end, it would be wise to speak to Mrs. Gallagher directly. She can give you all the information you need to make an educated assessment of the man in question.” Lady Corby relaxed, resting her arm on the edge of the settee.
“Well, that would be the best course of action, to be sure.” Cassandra finished her tea. “Perhaps I shall call on her tomorrow. She can enlighten me as to the inner workings of this agreement.” She paused. “Have Ladies Amesbury and Winstead agreed to this course of action?”
“Of course.” Lady Corby’s countenance brightened. “Once we have reached an accord, there will be no issues in creating a more secure foundation for these young ladies.”
“Yes, I agree.” The response came unbidden as Cassandra found her thoughts preoccupied by the connection between Mrs. Gallagher and the Lord of Devil’s Acre.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.
Lady Corby’s hospitality and direction shed new light on the unspoken conundrum in which Cassandra found herself mired.
If she could uncover the true motives behind this bargain she’d made with the Lord of Devil’s Acre, then surely, she could find some peace in reaching a more realistic solution.