Chapter 9
Kassandra swept into the ballroom, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her labored breath.
She blinked in the sudden brightness, yet she was not so blinded that she did not catch the appraising glances of several gentlemen standing nearby, who stared blatantly at her breasts straining against the low-cut bodice.
Men! she cursed inwardly, ready to lash out at anything that wore breeches. She would never wear such a gown again! She fought to catch her breath, chiding herself for dashing up the stairs, but her stays were laced so tight she could scarcely breathe.
“There you are, Kassandra,” Isabel exclaimed, rushing toward her from the window where she had been standing. “I was almost ready to organize a search for you. You’ve been gone so long.”
Thank God she hadn’t ventured into the garden, Kassandra thought grimly, imagining the expression on Isabel’s face if she had found her in the arms of that, that…
She shuddered, rubbing her temples with slender fingers.
At least she didn’t have to feign an excuse to leave the reception. Her head ached miserably.
“I-I’m sorry, Isabel,” she barely managed without gasping. “But it seems…the stroll did me little good—” A rousing blare of trumpets startled her, drowning out her words.
“It’s only the signal that the banquet will begin soon,” Isabel explained with a laugh, noting Kassandra’s unease. Why, she was practically shaking in her slippers!
Isabel’s forehead creased in a frown as another thought struck her.
If it was already time for the banquet, where could Stefan be?
she wondered, her eyes darting around the crowded room.
Her gaze fell on a statuesque, dark-haired woman standing beside an aged court minister, who was nodding off in his chair.
The woman caught her look and smiled, yet the expression in her lustrous dark eyes was hardly friendly.
Isabel smiled tightly in return before looking away.
At least he is not with Sophia, she thought, pleased. She turned back to Kassandra. “Let’s sit over there,” she said, pointing with her fan to a nearby table.
“Isabel,” Kassandra began again, wincing from the awful pounding in her head. Those damnable trumpets had only made it worse. “I was trying to tell you that I’m not feeling very well. I’m sorry, but I think I will have to leave the reception at once.”
“Oh dear, you cannot mean that, Kassandra,” Isabel blurted. “We only just arrived an hour ago. Perhaps some food might cure whatever is ailing you. I was so looking forward to the music and dancing after the banquet…”
Isabel bit her lip, embarrassed color rising in her face.
Perhaps that’s why she is trembling so, she thought fleetingly.
She took Kassandra’s hand in her own. “Forgive me, Kassandra, I’m being terribly selfish.
If you’re not well, I can hardly expect you to suffer through the rest of the evening on my behalf.
I will call for our wraps and we’ll leave immediately. ”
“No, no, you must stay and enjoy yourself,” Kassandra protested. “The driver can take me back to the estate and return in plenty of time to fetch you home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine,” she insisted. She clasped Isabel’s hand warmly. “You’ll have a wonderful time tonight, whether I’m here or not—”
“Stefan!” Isabel suddenly exclaimed, her eyes moving from Kassandra to a point just beyond her.
“It’s Stefan, Kassandra! I was beginning to think he had missed the reception, but he’s here at last. Oh, you must at least wait another moment to meet him.
” She waved her hand, calling gaily out to him. “Stefan!”
Perhaps there may yet be some hope for this evening, Kassandra thought, her headache momentarily forgotten in her anticipation.
After all, she had awaited this meeting with Isabel’s brother for a long time.
But Stefan or no, she decided quickly, she would still only remain at the Hofburg for a few moments longer.
She had no desire to risk another encounter with that blackguard, whoever he was! Smiling brightly, she whirled around.
“Isn’t he handsome?” Isabel asked in an aside to Kassandra, watching proudly as Stefan strode toward them.
Kassandra stared in stunned surprise, her breath caught in her throat, the smile fading from her lips.
If the world had stopped at that moment, she would have taken no notice.
There was nothing but the fierce beat of her heart thundering against her breast, and the flint-gray gaze that seared boldly into her own.
“Kassandra, this is my brother, Stefan.” Isabel’s voice came to her as if from very far away, a whisper in a deafening maelstrom of emotion, one thought etched upon her mind.
Count Stefan von Furstenberg…the soldier at the tavern…the rogue in the garden. These men were one and the same!
Kassandra felt suddenly faint, the awkwardness of her situation hitting her with physical force. Yet she was jolted from her dazed thoughts as he took her hand in his own and brought it to his lips, his kiss grazing her fingers.
“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Kassandra,” Stefan murmured, masking well his initial astonishment.
So the flame-haired temptress he had followed back to the palace was Lady Kassandra Wyndham, the daughter of Isabel’s Lord Harrington. He studied her with frank appraisal, amusement lighting his eyes.
Damn, this intrigue seemed to have been fashioned by the hand of Fate herself, he mused, watching emotions flicker across her face. “Isabel has told me a great deal about you, and your father, in her letters.”
Spurred by the taunting laughter in his eyes, Kassandra quickly regained her composure. Damn him, if he could play along, then so could she! And there was no sense in giving Isabel the impression that something was amiss, especially since they had only just been introduced. She smiled prettily.
“I have heard much of you as well, Count von Furstenberg,” she said simply.
“Why be so formal?” Isabel asked, looking from Kassandra to Stefan with mock exasperation. “We’re soon to be family. I insist you call each other by your given names.” She laughingly took Stefan’s arm. “Where have you been this evening, Stefan?”
“I walked in the garden for a short while—”
“The garden? Why, Kassandra just returned from a long stroll. You must have just missed each other.”
Kassandra looked down uncomfortably, not wishing to meet Stefan’s eyes, which were surely laughing at her. Her head was pounding once again.
“Isabel, I really must be going,” Kassandra began, raising her head, but avoiding Stefan’s gaze.
She was struck suddenly by how closely brother and sister resembled each other, with their hair as black as midnight and eyes of the same striking gray.
Why had she not guessed it? she wondered, recalling her intuition the night before.
“Of course, Kassandra, forgive me. I had forgotten,” Isabel said in a rush of apology.
She looked up at her brother, who towered over her.
“Perhaps you might accompany Kassandra back to the estate, Stefan. She’s not feeling well and must leave the reception, but I dislike the thought of her traveling alone in a carriage, especially at night. Would you?”
“I’d be honored,” Stefan responded before Kassandra could protest, smiling rakishly at her as he took her arm. He nodded to Isabel. “I’ll return later in the evening for you.”
Kassandra started at the pressure of his hand on her arm. She flushed with warmth, her plan to retreat gone awry. Just like everything else this evening, she thought, as they said their farewells to Isabel and began to walk to the front entrance of the ballroom.
“Stefan, are you leaving so soon?” a dark-haired woman called out as she moved toward them with provocative grace, her gold brocade gown catching the light from the chandeliers, her daring décolletage accentuating her alabaster shoulders and lush breasts.
Kassandra grimaced inwardly at her voice, recognizing it as the one she had heard in the garden. She watched as the woman laid a hand possessively on Stefan’s arm, and strangely enough, she felt him tense. The woman’s eyes, the color of dusky topaz, narrowed.
“Stefan,” she murmured sweetly. “I have not had the pleasure of an introduction to this…lady.”
“Archduchess Sophia von Starenberg, Lady Kassandra Wyndham,” Stefan stated, his voice cool.
So this was Stefan’s paramour, Kassandra considered appraisingly.
She could not imagine the reason behind the odd change in his manner.
The archduchess was probably one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.
She was uncommonly tall, like herself, yet where Kassandra was of slender proportion, Sophia von Starenberg’s figure was voluptuously curved.
Her luxuriant hair, piled high upon her head, was a deep mahogany that shone with burnished highlights.
Her profile reminded Kassandra of a statue of a Greek goddess, singular in its beauty.
But her most startling feature was her eyes, tilted slightly upward at the outer corners, almost almond-shaped, and heavily fringed with thick lashes.
They stared back at her, the dark depths glinting with so much angry jealousy that Kassandra longed to tell the archduchess her resentment was misplaced.
She had no interest in Stefan von Furstenberg.
“Lady Kassandra is a guest of Isabel’s, and myself, while her father is in Germany,” Stefan continued. “Now, if you will excuse us, Sophia, she is not feeling well. I am escorting her home.”
“So kind of you, Stefan,” Sophia purred, leaning seductively against him. “Will you be returning?”
“Yes, later. Until then, Sophia.”
Kassandra could feel Sophia glaring after them as they walked from the ballroom, the beautiful woman’s gaze boring into her back as surely as if it had been poisoned daggers. But her mind quickly turned to the long carriage ride to the estate, a ride they would share…alone together.