Chapter Seventeen
Cassandra surveyed the packed ballroom, a small grin tugging at her lips.
An absolute crush. Every prominent house in London society was in attendance, their purses loose and willing.
They had already surpassed their financial goals and were well on their way to providing enough funds to expand the school come the new year.
Their Sinners and Saints Masquerade was the talk of the ton. The event of the winter. Pride suffused her knowing her contribution led to a rousing success.
Standing on the elevated dais surrounded by the Ladies Winstead, Amesbury, and Corby, Cassandra watched the festivities progress.
The four hostesses greeted their guests upon their arrival and mingled with the crowd briefly, but they retreated to their dais, content with their own company as the night wore on.
Evergreen garland crisscrossed the ceiling.
Silver tinsel dangled from the deep-green boughs, like melting ice.
Red and gold bows added a burst of color to the forest canopy overhead.
Red velvet ribbon decked the walls. Holly and mistletoe hung from the arched doorways.
Whorls of fluffy cotton wove beneath the refreshment tables resembling fresh snow.
Victoria had overseen the decoration of the ballroom, while Eleanor had ensured the refreshments were to her standard.
Cassandra and Hyacinth had taken great care in sending out invitations, ensuring every illustrious member of society had received one.
The four of them worked well as a cohesive unit.
“A decidedly splendid affair,” Hyacinth said, coming alongside her. “It will certainly be the talk of London tomorrow.”
“One can hope.” Cassandra regarded her companion, admiring her deep-amethyst gown flecked with crystals to make it sparkle in the light.
The gilded demi mask she wore bore the intricate details of a floral bouquet, brimming with small hyacinth blossoms, carnations, and a solitary vibrant orange lily. “Your costume suits you perfectly.”
“As does yours,” Hyacinth said with a knowing smile. “My modiste has wonderful taste, but your ensemble is truly one of her best pieces to date. Who would have thought such a decadent color suited you?”
Cassandra smoothed her hands over the red silk bodice.
The tiny, black beads accented the pleats across the bodice all the way to her shoulder, ending in an elegant plumage of vibrant red feathers.
Self-conscious, she blushed, knowing this was a far cry from anything she would have chosen for herself.
But it pleased her indeed to know that her friend had had enough foresight to give her such a gift.
“Cardinals are such lovely birds, but you far outshine them.” Hyacinth winked.
“You are too kind, Hyacinth.” Tugging at her black and red mask, Cassandra ensured it remained in place. “Thank you.”
“This is what friends do, Cassandra.” She placed a hand on Cassandra’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It is an honor and a privilege to have you in our little circle.”
The sentiment warmed Cassandra’s heart. A year ago, no one could have told her that this was where she would have been. Eleanor and Victoria joined them as they admired the crowd dancing below and mingling in varying extravagant costumes.
“Who is that?” Eleanor asked, her voice trembling with excitement as she gestured to the main entrance.
A lone figure clad entirely in black stepped into the light.
Curious eyes darted around and whispers rippled through the crowd as it parted for the mysterious guest.
Cassandra stepped closer to the edge of the dais, her gaze following the tall figure. A man, most certainly, judging by his attire and his height. As he wove through the crowd, he turned his head, his eyes fixing on hers.
Her breath caught in her chest, and her heartbeat thundered, drowning out the sound around her. It can’t be. Hope took flight, catching her up in the moment.
He nodded, a smile appearing beneath the edge of his black domino mask. A smile she would recognize in the midst of a raging inferno.
Reuben.
Everything faded into the background as she spun around, nearly knocking into Eleanor. She steadied herself against the railing as she descended to the main floor. He came for me.
Cassandra darted into the crowd, her gaze searching as the anticipation caught in her throat. Curious eyes fell upon her as she wove through the guests. They parted, watching her and whispering to each other. She ignored them. All of them. There were none who mattered in this room save for him.
A flash of black caught her eye. She turned in time to see his dark head disappearing through an archway leading to the conservatory.
Hiking her skirts in her hands, Cassandra rushed toward him. Breathless, she made her way across the room. When she’d reached the doorway, the light dimmed to the sparkling lanterns dotting the paved path snaking through the overgrown conservatory.
The music faded into the distance as she entered the silence of the tangled jungle.
She wandered down the pathway, hands trembling as they held her skirts to keep from tripping over the uneven cobblestones.
Her blood hummed, creating a delicious friction inside her.
The hair on her arms rose at the eerie calm ahead mixing with the dying cacophony of the festivities behind her.
A few figures moved in the distance behind the greenery. Couples intent on stealing a few amorous moments alone in the midst of the revelry. They skittered in the opposite direction, heading back toward the glittering lights of the ballroom.
Cassandra quickened her pace, gaze darting back and forth, searching for any sign of Reuben. When she’d reached the far end of the conservatory, she frowned and groaned in frustration. Where has he gone?
A lone bench sat tucked in the corner, illuminated by a single lantern. She spun around, searching the isolated corner of the garden.
“Looking for someone?” A deep, comforting voice curled around her.
“Reuben.” Cassandra gasped, relief spilling over into delight as she spun to face him.
He stood before her tall and broad, a specter shaded in black. His hazel eyes sparkled behind the dark mask. He removed it, and then hers.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice cracking, even though she longed to reach for him. “You were not invited.”
“I could not stay away.” His heated gaze raked down the length of her. “You look resplendent, Your Grace. A vision worthy of the masters.”
“You flatter me.” Cassandra took a step closer, her pulse pounding so loudly, she feared he would hear it. “But I have little use for your honeyed words.”
“Would you have me on my knees, begging your forgiveness?” He slowly lowered himself to one knee, gazing up at her. “I am a fool, Cassandra. Forgive me.”
Cassandra closed the distance between them and hooked a gloved finger beneath his chin. “No more pretty words.” She leaned down, their lips dangerously close. “I tire of them.”
“Then make your demand of me.” His eyes flashed with hunger. “I am at your mercy.”
She grasped his chin, holding his jaw in her gloved hand. He arched into her touch in complete surrender. His reaction left her humming with desire. The ability to elicit such control over another was a heady feeling, but Cassandra did not wish to control Reuben. Quite the contrary.
“Why did you leave?” The simple question hung heavily in the air between them. She did not need to elaborate. He would know. He always knew. It was his skill—his gift—to predict his mistress’s desires before she herself understood what she required.
“I could not remain.” His lips parted as her grip tightened. “The duke commanded I leave immediately, never to return.”
“You obeyed.”
“I did what I believed was in the best interest of my mistress.”
“Your ‘mistress’?” Cassandra purred.
“Yes.”
“And if your mistress desired your company, what then?”
Reuben hesitated.
Cassandra teased him, her breath caressing his sinful lips. So close, she could taste his familiar kiss. “You left me, Reuben. When I needed you most.”
“Forgive me, madam.” His eyes drifted closed.
“I will—but only if you vow, here and now, to never abandon me again.”
“I vow it, madam. Please—” Reuben’s breath caught.
“Stand,” she commanded.
He stood, her hand still resting upon his jaw. His eyes were wide open, locked in a silent battle with her own intense gaze. He loomed over her, intimidating and still, she found it erotically stimulating. She burned for him.
“Why did you leave?” she asked again.
“Because—I could not bear to see you torn between your son and myself.”
“But that has been rectified. Has it not?”
“It has,” Reuben replied, his gaze dropping.
“Why are you here?”
“I have seen the error of my ways, madam.”
“Is that so?” Cassandra arched a brow.
“Yes, madam.”
“Is that all I am to you, Reuben?” she murmured, tracing a finger along his cheek. “‘Madam’? ‘Your Grace’?”
“No—” He swallowed hard. “Cassandra.”
A fire ignited inside her. “Tell me,” she asked softly. “What am I to you?”
“My will to live. My purpose.” He sighed, holding her gaze with an intensity that burned like the sun. “My reason for being.”
Her heart clenched. “Is that why you murdered my husband?” she asked, her voice low.
Reuben met her gaze, his soul aflame. “I did what I must to ensure your protection.”
“Not for revenge?” she asked as the knowledge washed over her, solidifying what she already knew deep in her soul.
“No.” Reuben’s jaw clenched, a steely determination etched upon his countenance.
“Why did you do it?” Cassandra could barely trust her voice, and yet the question flowed without hesitation.
“Because I love you. Beyond reason, beyond comprehension.” He held his breath. “I love you, and I could not bear the thought of you enduring another moment of pain and torment beneath his tyranny.”
Cassandra’s heart ceased beating. “You—what?”
“I love you.” Reuben’s confession rang in her ears. “I have since the first moment I saw you.”