Chapter 7 #2
Cassandra followed her parents down the aisle, aware of the murmurs beginning to stir behind her.
She kept her head high in spite of them, for she knew that if she was to endure it, she would do so without flinching.
They had nearly reached the church doors when a familiar voice sounded at her side.
“Lady Cassandra.”
Cassandra slowed in spite of herself. Lady Sylvia stood there, perfectly composed, hands folded, her expression falsely warm.
“I ought to offer you my congratulations,” Sylvia said. “It must be gratifying to see such perseverance rewarded.”
Cassandra inclined her head. She knew that it was not a compliment, and that she was inferring entrapment, but Cassandra was not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Thank you.”
Sylvia smiled, her gaze flicking briefly toward the Duke before returning to Cassandra.
“Not every woman succeeds in securing such an advantageous position. One hears so many stories of misplaced ambition, and it is interesting to see that it can work at times.”
“Yes, well I assure you, ambition played no role in what occurred.”
“Of course,” Sylvia replied smoothly. “Still, it is impressive how circumstances may be shaped, if one is bold enough.”
“I did not shape anything,” Cassandra said, her voice calm only through effort. “If anything, I would say that it was your own ambition to bring that group to the garden that brought me here. In that respect, I have you to thank.”
“I would not say that. We all make choices, and you chose to–”
“That will be sufficient, Lady Sylvia.”
Cassandra turned to see the Duke standing beside her, completely composed. If he felt irritation, it was carefully concealed. Cassandra wished that she could hide her emotions even half as well.
“Your Grace, I meant no offense. I was merely offering congratulations.”
“By suggesting Lady Cassandra engineered her own disgrace, yes,” the Duke said. “Which is an interesting charge, considering it was you who summoned others to the library that night, as Lady Cassandra said herself.”
Sylvia flushed.
“I was attempting to protect her from Lord Lashton.”
“By ensuring she was discovered in a compromising position,” he replied. “Your concern is noted.”
Cassandra said nothing. She was too stunned to speak. The words hung between them, heavy and undeniable. She did not need rescuing, but she was grateful for it all the same.
“Regardless,” Lady Sylvia said with false composure, “I congratulate you as well, Your Grace.”
“You may save your congratulations for the gathering I am to host at my country estate.”
“A gathering?”
Cassandra had the same question.
“Our engagement celebration,” he said. “It will continue until the wedding.”
For a moment, Sylvia appeared entirely lost for words. Cassandra hoped that she concealed her own surprise better.
“I had not heard,” she said finally.
“You have now.”
She curtsied stiffly and withdrew. Cassandra watched her go, pulse racing. She turned slowly to the Duke.
“What gathering?” she hissed.
“An engagement party, as I said.”
“Until the wedding?”
“Indeed, so ten days in total.”
Her eyes widened. It was the last thing that she wanted, especially as she would have to be present throughout. She wanted to be alone, not surrounded by people wanting to watch her.
“Ten days is excessive.”
“Not at all. It is strategic.”
“Strategic for whom?”
“For us,” he replied. “Public unity discourages speculation, which is precisely what you and I need.”
“You did not consult me,” she said.
“No,” he agreed. “I did not. I ought to apologize for that, though I cannot change my mind now.”
“It is all right. I know that you were trying to help. I wish to thank you for that.”
“There is no need.”
“There is,” she insisted. “Lady Sylvia was implying things that–”
“That required correction,” he said. “Now that we are connected, your reputation is tied to mine, so it is my responsibility to defend you.”
“And the party?”
“That is a means of control,” he replied calmly. “Those who might speak against you will be given no opportunity to do so.”
“And if they do?”
“Then they will answer to me.”
She hesitated. She liked that he was so willing to defend her, but she knew of her tendency to invite rumor. She also knew that he was aware of her apparent talent, and she did not want him to hate her for it in the end.
“You are very certain.”
“I am.”
“You intend to silence them,” she said slowly.
“Yes, I do. I will not tolerate people speaking ill of my wife.”
“And what of me? Will I be silenced?”
“Not at all. You may speak as you wish. Others will not.”
She did not know whether to feel protected or imprisoned by that promise. As they stepped outside, Cassandra was aware that she had not escaped anything at all. She had merely traded one form of powerlessness for another.
And yet, as she glanced at the Duke of Sherton, she could not deny that, for the first time since this ordeal had begun, someone had chosen to stand beside her rather than over her.
She did not know what to do with that knowledge. She only knew that it complicated everything.