Chapter Sixteen
When her three guests arrived, Cassandra stood to receive them. Her heart gave a nervous flutter, and her hands twitched. She folded them before her and smiled as Mrs. Mercer admitted the ladies into the parlor.
“Welcome to my home, Lady Winstead, Lady Amesbury, Lady Corby.” Cassandra gestured with grace to the small sitting area already prepared with tea and a variety of pastries. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
“Your Grace, thank you for your gracious invitation,” Lady Corby said, leading the trio.
“Yes, what a lovely surprise, Your Grace.” Lady Amesbury followed with a curtsey.
“So unexpected, Your Grace,” Lady Winstead added with a kind smile before spying the desserts. “Are those macarons? Delicious.”
“I appreciate you all coming on such short notice.” Cassandra resumed her seat as the other ladies selected their own. “Tea?”
All three nodded in unison.
Cassandra poured the tea, playing the part of gracious host and dutiful dowager. But inside, her conscience warred with itself. Patience, she murmured internally.
As the ladies accepted their tea, they complimented her on the ornamentation of the room and her silk gown.
The typical, banal conversation Cassandra had been exposed to her whole life.
Nothing of substance or interest, merely the casual inane dialog of the wealthy aristocracy.
She longed for something more—something deeper.
She longed for true friendship. But could these women provide it?
The conversation shifted into an animated discussion about the upcoming masquerade ball in support of the girls’ school.
Lady Winstead and Lady Amesbury had already received their costumes, and Lady Corby was meeting with her seamstress that afternoon to finalize the details of her gown.
All eyes turned to Cassandra as the conversation shifted to her.
“Have you selected your costume, madam?” Lady Corby asked, her gaze settling on Cassandra.
“Unfortunately, I have been quite occupied with some other matters and have not had the opportunity to even contemplate it.” Cassandra smoothed her hand over her bodice. “I am sure I will procure something suitable in time for the event.”
“It is a week hence!” Lady Winstead cried in shock.
“You must allow us to help you,” Lady Amesbury added with a solemn nod. “We will ensure you are the belle of the ball.”
Cassandra scoffed. “I am hardly a belle, and I do not require anything lavish. Surely, a simple domino mask will suffice with my gown.”
“It will not do.” Lady Corby shook her head.
“You are the mother of a duke and as such are held in high regard. Guests will be clamoring for a glimpse of you as one of the hostesses of the event. The four of us will be at the center of it all, welcoming patrons and stirring interest in our charity. You must make your presence known, and the best way to do it is through your costume.”
The other two ladies nodded in fervent agreement.
“Please, allow us to help you,” Lady Winstead pleaded.
“I do not wish to impose,” Cassandra slowly relented as a warm glow of acceptance filled her.
“It is no imposition,” Lady Amesbury said with unbridled excitement. “We would adore the opportunity to be of service.”
“Very well,” Cassandra said with a mild wave of relief. She had completely forgotten about procuring a costume for the event.
“Perfect.” Lady Corby clapped her hands. “You can join me at the seamstress’s tomorrow morning. The three of us will be there to offer support and advice. You will be the talk of the ton.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened at the thought of being the center of any scrutiny, especially after the revelations of the past few weeks. “I—I do not wish to steal the focus of the evening’s events from its true purpose.”
“It is merely a figure of speech, madam,” Lady Amesbury assured her.
“Oh—yes, of course.” Cassandra waved her hand in dismissal.
The conversation shifted from planning their costumes to scheduling their meeting the following morning before flowing into an easy discussion about their plans for the upcoming holiday.
Christmas was approaching quickly, and it seemed they all had plans in some form or fashion.
Cassandra sat quietly, enjoying the companionship but unsure of whether or not to add anything for fear of dampening their spirits with her melancholy.
“Is your butler well, madam?” Lady Corby set aside her tea. “I noticed his absence when we arrived earlier.” She smiled kindly. “Such a handsome young man.”
“Ah, yes.” Cassandra cleared her throat, scrambling for some excuse. “Well, Evans is no longer under my son’s employment.”
The trio gasped, exchanging surprised glances.
“Oh, dear,” Lady Corby said with a frown. “I am sorry to hear that. Such trustworthy help is so difficult to find.”
“Yes, he will be sorely missed.” Cassandra toyed with the hem of her sleeve, unable to meet their curious gazes.
“Madam, forgive me if this is indelicate, but I feel I must ask.” Lady Corby’s gentle voice broke the silence. “What caused his sudden departure?”
Cassandra could no longer bear the weight of it. Her carefully crafted facade crumbled. Tears flowed freely. She tried to stem them behind a handkerchief, but to no avail. The dam had been breached.
“I—I made a horrid mistake.”
Lady Corby exchanged a solemn, knowing look with the Ladies Amesbury and Winstead.
“There, there, madam.” Lady Corby came alongside her, offering another handkerchief. “We understand your reluctance to speak upon it, but we can assure you of our discretion. You are among friends. Nothing we speak of will leave this room. You have my word.”
“No one should be left to suffer in silence,” Lady Amesbury added. “We have all had our share of scandal. There are many things we hold deep inside, unable to reveal, whether it be for the sake of propriety or loyalty.”
“Or shame,” Lady Winstead contributed.
“I detest social engagements.” Lady Amesbury straightened. “I would much rather retire to the country and spend my time with my horses.”
The revelation left Cassandra stunned. The lovely dowager countess had always brought such life to all the social engagements she’d attended.
“I want to open my own pastry shop,” Lady Winstead confessed with a blush.
“I could spend every day in the garden among my flowers.” Lady Corby sighed, closing her eyes, as if imagining herself among the peonies and roses. “My children scold me constantly for my obsession.”
Cassandra sniffled, her tears ceasing, but the revelations, the little glimpses behind each of their lives, gave her hope. Still, none of them harbored a desire quite like hers, and it left her conscientious.
“All of those are wonderful things that should never make you feel shame.” Cassandra regarded each lady in turn, admiring their courage to share such vulnerable parts of themselves. “But I fear my mistake is not as innocent and well-intentioned.”
“Perhaps not, but it is a part of yourself you do not feel you can share with anyone.” Lady Corby gestured to the other two ladies as well as herself. “We will listen, without judgment. Sometimes we must speak it aloud in order to find a solution.”
“I fear there is no solution to this predicament.” Cassandra inhaled deeply, suppressing her growing concern. What if this was a trick? A way to manipulate her? She shook her head. “You all led wonderful lives with happy marriages. I cannot burden you with my sorrowful tale.”
“I married a childhood friend to escape an arranged union.” Lady Amesbury spoke softly. “There was no joy in our marriage. Only a simple arrangement.”
Cassandra stared at her, stunned.
“My marriage was a farce. We shared a home but never a bed. He loved food and drink more than he cared for me.” Lady Winstead murmured, her confession startling. “This is why we never conceived an heir.”
Disbelief filled Cassandra. These women were the shining stars of the aristocracy who had used their titles and privilege in positive ways. Yet they’d harbored the secrets of their loveless marriages for years. Cassandra could only blink, her mind caught up in their confessions.
“I devoted myself to my husband. I loved him and he loved me.” Lady Corby twisted her hands together. “When I lost him so soon into our marriage, I vowed I would never love another as I loved him. I miss him desperately.”
“There is no shame in that,” Cassandra offered in comfort.
“No. I was fortunate to have him for the time I did. He gave me four wonderful children.” Her eyes clouded with pain and sorrow.
“When he died, part of me died with him. I was never the same. I poured my heart and soul into my children, but now they are grown—and I know nothing of who I am, aside from a still-grieving widow and a dowager viscountess.”
The other ladies nodded in sympathy, and Cassandra agreed. Each of them had shared an intimate part of themselves, a part no one else saw. They’d shown their humanity beneath their title. The truth behind the silken veneer of the ton.
Cassandra’s heart softened as they welcomed her into their confidences. They were her friends, her allies, and she knew in that moment, she could trust them.
“My husband indulged in prostitutes, gambling, and vices too horrid to mention.” Cassandra took a deep breath. “He abused me. For years, he took his anger out on me, while hiding it from the world and our son. When he died, he left me broken and indebted.”
The ladies surrounding her gasped, offering their words of outrage. When they fell silent, Cassandra continued. “But through it all, Evans remained a steadfast fixture. After my husband’s death, he remained in my family’s service.
“At first, I denied myself the ability to feel anything for him.” She sighed. “I never thought I would find love or experience passion. These were foreign to me.”
The Ladies Amesbury and Winstead nodded in evident understanding. Lady Corby took Cassandra’s hand and squeezed gently, showing her solidarity.