Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Cassandra immediately liked Philippa, and it had nothing to do with her brother.
It felt as though everyone in attendance assumed she had ulterior motives, or that she had had them when securing the Duke, but that was simply not the case.
The young lady was simply pleasant to be around, and was capable of speaking for longer than a mere two minutes without mentioning marriage and men and how lovely everything was.
That was not to say that Cassandra did not notice her brother, of course.
“What are you reading at the moment?” Philippa asked as they prepared to leave for dinner. “I feel as though I have finished every book in my library, much to my brother’s disappointment.”
“Why would he be disappointed in the fact that you have an interest?”
“He is happy for me to have one. It is simply that he would rather I had a more acceptable one. Strangely, however, he was not terribly keen on my suggestion that I take up fencing with him.”
“Could you imagine?” she laughed. “Well, I can lend you the book I am reading right now, if you wish. I have brought it with me, and I do not suppose that I shall have much time for it.”
Cassandra did not suppose that her new friend would have much time for it either, given the number of people asking after them.
Cassandra did not mind the questions at all, for she had nothing to hide; the trouble was that nobody was asking her their questions.
Instead, they whispered them among themselves as though she were not there at all.
“I was hoping to speak to you about all of that,” Philippa admitted. “I have so much to ask you, but I have a feeling that you do not particularly like everything that has happened.”
“It is not ideal, but I cannot change it. To be entirely honest, I would have been quite content to have never married at all, but if I am to be marched down the aisle, your brother is not the most objectionable man. I may yet find a redeeming quality of his.”
“High praise indeed.”
“The highest he shall be afforded, I am afraid.”
Philippa laughed at that, which given that she had just been unkind about her brother, Cassandra appreciated it.
She was not finding humor in her brother being labelled as an acceptable match, but that Cassandra was willing to say it, and Cassandra was quite pleased about that.
Unfortunately, she had not been entirely honest.
There were not many people that appreciated her mannerisms, and with her friends marrying off and leaving her alone, she was grateful that, if she ended up marrying His Grace, she would at least have a friend.
But if she could avoid it, she knew that she would.
“And I am not pleased with what Sylvia did,” Philippa continued. “You may not be angry with her, but I am. We ladies should support one another, not try to cause ruin.”
“You must not be too unkind in your thoughts. The truth is, I should not have been doing what I was doing with your brother, even if nothing untoward would ever have happened. I knew the risks, and yet… I am furious with myself for it, and perhaps she could have been more gracious toward me, but what happened was not her fault.”
“You are kinder than my brother suggested.”
Before Cassandra could ask her precisely what the Duke had said of her, they were summoned to dinner.
It was an excellent meal, and though Cassandra was quite convinced that she would find a way to escape the arrangement, she had to admit that she would have found peace as Duchess if it meant eating that well often.
When it was done, Cassandra placed her napkin carefully beside her plate, conscious of how many eyes followed even that small movement.
They all thought her a villain for trapping a hapless gentleman, though not one person was brave enough to say it to her.
She had felt the Dowager Duchess’ gaze on her throughout, sharp and appraising, as though she was testing Cassandra to see if she was worthy of her son.
Which, Cassandra knew, she never would be.
It was not that she was not good enough to be a wife; Cassandra was not one to brag, but she knew objectively that she was a pretty enough lady that was accomplished and intelligent.
The trouble was that she was not a duchess.
She lacked the discipline and the poise and the refinement and a dozen other things that she knew she fell short of.
She knew it, and so she did not blame the Dowager for seeing it too.
She should have known better than to expect the evening to end quietly.
As the guests began to leave, Lady Sylvia rose from her seat with a smile too pleased to be innocent. Cassandra watched as the Dowager’s eyes softened upon watching her, and there was a feeling that formed in her chest which she could not quite put a name to.
“If Your Grace permits,” Sylvia said, turning toward the head of the table, “I thought it might amuse everyone if we began the evening with a small diversion.”
“What did you have in mind?” the Duke asked. “It has been a long day, and I do not suppose that after so much traveling everyone would like to sleep late.”
“A fortune telling game. I know that people will be tired, and so I thought it would be pleasant to do something that was not serious. It is only a bit of fun.”
The Dowager Duchess nodded in approval, leading others to join her one by one.
“A charming idea.”
And so, a footman was summoned. A porcelain bowl appeared, filled with neatly folded slips of paper. Cassandra felt a tightening in her chest, knowing that she was not looked upon favorably by Lady Sylvia but also aware that she had been afforded certain protections as the apparent future Duchess.
Each guest was invited, one by one, to go to Lady Sylvia. She would then draw a fortune and hand it to them so that they could read it aloud. At first, it was harmless enough.
“You will take a journey,” a gentleman read, laughing. “I should hope so.”
“Unexpected joy awaits you,” another announced, earning polite applause.
Cassandra watched carefully as people took their turn.
She considered turning her own down, but she did not want to slight anyone.
She wanted to believe that it was good-natured, even if she knew that it was not.
Her turn came, and Sylvia lingered over the papers, stirring them as she watched them intently, before choosing one for her and passing it along.
“You will find that reputation is easily lost and rarely recovered,” she read.
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. The Dowager Duchess smiled thinly, and Cassandra dared to look at the Duke, whose eyes were narrowed at Lady Sylvia. Cassandra was not one to feel shame easily, and that moment was no exception, but she knew she should have felt it.
She folded the paper and placed it in front of her, not wanting to give any inclination that she had been affected by it.
The game continued, with Philippa being told that she would make an excellent match.
There was light applause at that, but Cassandra could not help but notice the young lady’s discomfort. It was only slight, but it was there.
The bowl returned to her again sooner than seemed natural.
“You are warned against ambition beyond your station,” Cassandra read aloud.
A murmur followed this one, heavier, more deliberate than the last.
“Wise advice,” the Dowager Duchess observed. “Particularly for young women.”
Cassandra felt the heat rise in her face but kept her expression composed. Another lady received hers, and she turned scarlet when she read it.
“You will suffer for past indiscretions.”
This time, the silence was deliberate.
Cassandra looked up slowly. She could see Sylvia watching the lady closely, eager for a reaction. The Dowager Duchess did not bother to disguise her satisfaction, nor her admiration for Sylvia. Cassandra wondered if the two ladies often delighted in offending others so greatly.
In any case, she knew once and for all that that was the purpose of the game. Cassandra exhaled, then smiled, for she was pleased that she had no real reason to placate. She had nothing to lose, in spite of what those around her thought.
“How curious,” she said lightly, “that so many fortunes concern themselves with the moral failings of women.”
Heads turned, including those of Sylvia, the Dowager, and the Duke. She was aware that her parents would be watching her, terrified of what she was about to say, but she did not care. She could not bring herself to, not when she had so clearly been challenged.
“I wonder,” she continued, her voice steady, “why there are none that address the men who so often create these scandals in the first place. They are promised the world, and the ladies are told that they must give it to them, lest they be left to ruin.”
The room stilled. No one laughed, and no one spoke. Cassandra reasoned that, as nobody was saying anything in response, she ought to continue until someone did. Or, at least, she would keep talking until she felt she had made her point.
“It is almost as though reputation is considered a feminine burden alone, and it is strange that some ladies seem to be pleased about that. Is it not? Perhaps next time, we might diversify the subject matter.”
Someone cleared their throat. Someone else looked down at their glass. Sylvia flushed, and the Dowager Duchess’ lips pressed together sharply. Cassandra placed the final slip back into the bowl.
The Duke rose, his face stern.
“That will be enough for this evening,” he said calmly. “We all have a full day ahead of you, and it would be best that we are well rested.”
There was no argument. Chairs scraped back, and guests stood, murmuring farewells and casting Cassandra glances that ranged from shocked to impressed to disapproving. She held her head high until she reached her room.
Then she considered her predicament.
It was not that she had been untoward, for truth be told she did not care about that at all.
She was pleased with herself for what she had done, for she knew it was necessary to make it known that she would not tolerate slights against her.
The trouble was that she had to be the one to defend herself in the first place.
She bit her lip. She was already as good as ruined, so what harm could be done by seeking answers?
She left her room and stormed down the hallway toward her room, and threw the door open. She expected to be alone, but then the Duke pushed the door open, entering without her saying he could. She was startled by the intrusion, but instinctively she ushered him in so that they would not be seen.
“You said you would not allow anyone to disrespect me,” she said, her voice hushed.
He looked at her sharply.
“You should not be here,” she said when he did not reply.
“And yet I am. That display of yours was intentional,” he said coldly. “Not to mention unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” she echoed. “They were attacking me openly, and I had no support.”
“And so you responded by provoking them further.”
“I defended myself.”
“You took the bait.”
She laughed, sharp and humorless. There was a saying that men were protectors, and that ladies were to be protected, but she did not think that many men had ever heard it.
“Forgive me for not smiling prettily while my character was dissected for sport. Should it ever happen to you, I shall watch for your reaction and ensure that I act as you do.”
He stepped closer, and though she was not intimidated she had to admit that there was a presence about him that she could not deny.
“This party exists to set the foundation for how society perceives us,” he sighed. “They will try to provoke us, to see if we break. We won’t. No matter what they say or do, we maintain our composure. We are the ones in control here, not them.”
“So I am to be silent while they trample me?”
“You are to let me handle it,” he said. “You are to play your part properly, and convince people that you are not unhinged.”
“Properly,” she repeated. “No matter how I am treated, I must allow them to do so because you will protect me. Even if you do not protect me, I am to accept it. Is that what you mean?”
“We must be careful. I am only thinking of your future with all of this.”
“If you are so concerned about my future,” she said suddenly, “then break the engagement.”
“I gladly would have.”
Her breath caught. She would never have expected any other response, but to hear him say it so coldly, so openly, was a shock to her, especially after he had spoken of propriety as he had.
“I do not wish to marry,” he continued, “and even if I did, I would not choose you for the role. I would have taken a wife that knew what the role demanded of her, who would be able to take three mere slights without losing her composure.”
The words struck deeper than she expected. It was true that Cassandra had a temper, one that she did not keep too well hidden, but she had not had any other choice. She had been under attack, and she had done what she could.
Which, she reasoned, was tame given the circumstances.
“My priority is my sister,” he went on. “Her debut has already been damaged by all of this. If this plan succeeds, she will find a husband soon, which is my duty to her as her brother.”
“And if it does not?”
“Then everything is lost. So tell me, Lady Cassandra. Are you willing to ruin a young, innocent girl’s future?”
“The same way you wish to ruin mine?”
For a moment, neither of them moved. She watched as his eyes studied her, as if he was searching for answers, though she would not give him any. Then he spoke, his voice low and controlled.
“You will not barge into my room again.”
Cassandra held his gaze, heart pounding.
“Do not mistake my restraint for indifference,” he added. “And do not forget what is at stake. I am doing what is sensible, and it is time for you to do the same.”
He turned without another word and left.
As the door closed behind him, Cassandra realized that she had not lost the argument, but she had not won it either.
Whatever her engagement was, it was not what she deserved, but she knew that she only had herself to blame for it, and so she would have to play the part.
Unless, of course, she could find a way out of it.