A sham.
She’d let her guard down with the duke.
A smile played on her mouth. Excitement made her giddy at the thought of taking tea with the duke. Her first invitation. Even when she’d been married, she’d not received a personal invitation.
She’d moved in society at her husband’s side, but the averted looks and whispers still stung. Being low born, she’d always be viewed as an interloper. No—without Lord Wayte, she was considered an outcast.
If they’d only seen the duke kiss her hand. It still tingled from his touch. A duke, no less. His rank excelled all, save royalty. Every door was open to him, including those of the palace.
The ornate mirror hanging on the wall beckoned her. Her face appeared flushed and her eyes bright. Anticipation of the days ahead brought on her high color, but she must take care.
Could she challenge Lady Ashford? Her affection for Sarah and admiration of the duke made her want to try to save them from that woman, but how could she compete? The duke admired her paintings, and he’d invited her to tea. Those were small victories. She winked at her reflection and continued on her way.
As she approached Gama’s door, she sobered. The old lady had heart problems and couldn’t take much excitement, but news of the duke’s visit would brighten her day. However much Cassandra tried to harden herself to society’s ostracism, she knew it hurt her godmother more. If the duke’s association could help Cassandra get into society’s good graces, Gama would benefit from a favorable reception from former friends and associates. That was reason enough to seek the duke’s patronage…Daphne Ashford or not.
Cassandra entered the bedroom with a sinking feeling. Each day, her godmother seemed to fade more. She went to the bed and, kneeling beside it, took the old lady’s blue-veined hand, pressing it to her cheek. “Gama, are you feeling worse?”
Lady Hayes’s eyes fluttered open, and she managed a weak smile. “Is that you, my dear? I didn’t expect you until after dinner.” She allowed Cassandra to help her prop against the pillows. “Did you enjoy the ball, my dear?”
Poor Gama’s memory floated in and out. At times, she could remember perfectly, but often she lapsed into the past. The doctors said there was nothing wrong with Lady Hayes save her heart and melancholy. They urged her to go to Bath and take the cure. But poor Gama seemed never to want to leave her chambers.
“I’ve not been to a ball in ages, Gama.” Cassandra squeezed her godmother’s hand. “But our fortunes may change. Only guess who has called?” She smiled. “The Duke of Langsdale,” she continued, not waiting for an answer.
“The Duke of Langsdale? I’ve heard that the duke is deceased. Yes, I’m certain of it. He and his wife and son were all killed in that dreadful shipwreck.”
“The elder duke did die, as you say. This is his other son, Edward.”
Gama tittered. “Of course, how foolish of me. Give me my embroidery, dear. Why did the young duke call?”
Cassandra handed her the small hoop and thread, relating the details of her encounter with Sarah, the Duke’s visit, and her agreement to tutor the little girl.
Gama huffed. “I say that’s the outside of enough…to hire you as a tutor.”
Dear Gama, she was so protective. “No, you misunderstand.” Cassandra laughed. “He’s not hiring me to tutor the child, merely asking to provide guidance as a neighborly favor. The important thing is, he considers me worthy of being received.”
Gama’s sparse brows wrinkled. While the old lady pondered, Cassandra hoped she was right. In the vast number of balls, fetes, soirees, and assemblies taking up the social calendar, a tea hardly mattered. She had no notion of how to capture a man’s attention, but she must take this opportunity for Sarah’s sake, for Gama’s sake…for the sake of those like Lucy.
No, she couldn’t think of Lucy now.
“Do you understand what this means, Gama. I shall be received by the duke, and if he receives me, who could ostracize me? Nor you for associating with me.” She stood and swung around the bed’s foot post. “Soon your table will be overflowing with calling cards. You shall go to the opera again, I promise it.”
Lady Hayes’s eyes lit up, all her wrinkles coming to a point in her little pink mouth. “You think that might be possible? My dear, do you think I shall be well enough?”
“Of course you shall.”
“The Duke of Langsdale, you say. I’ve heard it said that the duke is very fastidious and straight-laced.”
“That was the old duke. Edward is rumored to be very different than his father, though he’s thought to be eccentric in his own way. The dandified rakes of the Ton fear him because he’s called them more worthless than lapdogs.”
“The duke said that?”
“Oh yes, but everyone is beside himself trying to impress his grace. The duke will be taking his place in Parliament this year. Perhaps he’ll urge reforms as Lord Wayte did.”
“Dear Lord Wayte.” Gama fiddled with a knotted embroidery thread with gnarled fingers. “He was so kind to us and tried to do so much for the poor. He’ll be hard to replace.”
Cassandra pursed her lips, wishing again her husband was here to advise her. She’d made so many mistakes. Perhaps she was about to make another. She mustn’t allow her admiration for the duke to interfere with her promise to Lord Wayte and to those women the rest of society had forgotten.
If the duke knew she’d be visiting a brothel tomorrow he’d not allow her to cross his threshold, much less have anything to do with his sister.
“Dear, would you ring for Hetty? I have need of her assistance.”
“Of course.” Cassandra pulled the cord at the head of the bed. Gama likely needed her maid to help her to the chamber pot. If so, she’d want her privacy.
When Hetty arrived, Cassandra leaned down to press a kiss on Gama’s forehead. “I should go and select a gown to wear this afternoon.” As if that was of any importance.
When she’d reached the door, Gama called after her. “Enjoy yourself, my dear, and if you see Lady Pugh at tea, give her my regards.”
“I shall.” Cassandra ducked out, closing the door behind her. Another thing to worry about.
Confronting Lady Pugh.
Chapter 4
A document of great importance lay before Edward, a proposal to be included in England’s position at the Conference of Vienna, an urgent appeal from Prinny, the Prince Regent. This affected the state of the country. But Edward found his attention wavering. His gaze kept traveling to the open door of his study, across the room to where Sarah and Lady Wayte stood with heads together.
With their backs to him and a small basket of apples spilling out before them, they were oblivious to him. Sarah’s brush stroked the canvas as Lady Wayte leaned over her. He couldn’t hear the lovely countess, but he knew she was speaking from the animation of her hands, and the way her golden hair glinted with each movement of her head.
He could have shut the door, but he’d assured Sarah he’d keep an eye on her. Sarah was apt to give her governess trouble, and Edward was determined she would attend to Lady Wayte, who was giving her time as a favor to them. Leastwise, that was the argument he gave himself.
After several more minutes of failing to focus on the papers, he stood and stretched. Prinny could wait.
The young ladies turned to him as he approached. “Look Edward.” Sarah stepped aside to give him a clear view of her canvas.
He clasped his hands behind him and studied the painting as he might one hanging in the Louvre. When he didn’t immediately speak, Sarah added, “It’s the best I’ve ever done…I think.”
Edward didn’t miss the way Sarah bit her bottom lip. His opinion meant much to her. “It’s quite remarkable. I feel I could reach out and take that first apple and crunch into it. Did you do it all by yourself?” He shot a glance to Lady Wayte, waiting for her to refute him.
Sarah sighed. “Lady Wayte sketched it, but I did all the painting myself.”
Lady Wayte’s
lips curved. She had a beautiful smile and didn’t smile enough. “This proves that Sarah has much talent. Don’t you think so, your grace?”
“I do indeed. I’m pleased.” He addressed Sarah. “When you’ve finished, I’ll hang it in my study.”
“Lady Wayte said after I’ve finished two still-lifes I could attempt a portrait of you. Will you pose for me, Edward?”
The request caught him unawares. “I don’t know that I would have time in the near future, Sarah.”
“It shouldn’t take long.” The appeal in Lady Wayte’s eyes was hard to resist. “Only a half hour, at the outside, to capture your features. The rest could be done without having to pose.”
“Please, Edward. It’s the desire of my heart.” Sarah clenched her hands together in a dramatic prayerful pose.
“I could spare that long.” His answer brought a squeal from Sarah and another smile from Lady Wayte. “But now we should go in to tea.”
Sarah removed her smock. “May I join you?”
“Yes, you may, if you mind your manners.” He hooked each of them by the arm on either side of him, and they sauntered to the drawing room where tea was held, Sarah chattering all the way.
Aunt Chloe presided behind the tea service, her plump form seated on a heavy, Jacobean chair. Lady Ashford glanced his way from her place on the gold and white striped settee. A former acquaintance, Charles Galloway, sat with legs crossed on a wingchair beside Aunt Chloe.
Feeling like he was throwing meat into a lion’s cage, Edward allowed Lady Wayte to enter the room first.
Galloway shot to his feet while the ladies sent appraising glances.
“May I present my neighbor, Lady Wayte. You all know Sarah.” Edward began the uncomfortable introductions. “Lady Wayte, Viscount Galloway is an old comrade in arms, and this is our aunt, Lady Pugh, and Lady Ashford.”
Nods and bows followed.
“I saw Charles at the modiste and invited him to tea.” Daphne hadn’t shown the slightest surprise at Lady Wayte’s appearance. Obviously Aunt Chloe had warned her, but Edward wondered what Daphne intended dragging Charles along. Did she think he might be jealous of Charles? Or was the young viscount invited to engage Lady Wayte’s attention?
If that was her intention, Sarah was faster, scooting beside Daphne and forcing Lady Wayte and Edward to sit together on the matching settee adjacent to Aunt Chloe.
“Would you not prefer to sit beside your new governess?” Daphne questioned Sarah, though everyone could hear.
“Lady Wayte isn’t my governess. She’s teaching me to paint,” Sarah leaned over Daphne before adding, “beautifully.”
Edward’s mouth quirked with the urge to laugh. Sarah was so obvious.
Aunt Chloe’s scowl showed she wasn’t amused. “Sit up straight, Sarah, and comport yourself like a young lady.”
Sarah obeyed, but Daphne sent a slitting gaze to Lady Wayte. “Forgive my blunder, but I’d heard that you worked as a governess before being taken in by Lord Wayte.”
Edward clenched his jaw. Everyone would recognize the comment for the insult it was. He started to change the subject to save Lady Wayte from having to reply, but was too late.
“I never worked as a governess. I was but sixteen when Lord Wayte took in Lady Hayes, my godmother, and me at her family’s request.” Lady Wayte’s voice was soft and controlled.
“How fortuitous for you as it turned out.”
Lady Wayte deflected that dart and smiling, took the teacup from Aunt Chloe. “I believe you and Lady Hayes were friends at one time, Lady Pugh. She resides with me next door and sends her regards.”
“Lady Hayes lives with you? Next door? Why, I had no notion.” Aunt Chloe finished serving, then plopped down in her chair. “Yes, we were great friends for many years. I must invite her for tea. I should have done so sooner had I known.”
“She’s unable to come out, being too ill to get around well.”
Aunt Chloe focused attention on Lady Wayte. “Lady Hayes is ill? How dreadful. I must visit her afore too long.”
“It would cheer her greatly to see you again.” Lady Wayte balanced the cup on her knee.
Daphne tilted her head ready to speak, so Edward jumped to change subjects before she could shoot another barb. “Charles, I hardly recognized you in civilian dress.”
The young man finally shifted his gaze from Lady Wayte. Charles was considered handsome with his muscular frame and blond curls falling on his forehead, but Edward knew he was a fortune hunter as well, and that set Edward’s protective instincts on alert.
“Since I wasn’t under commission, I left the army over a year ago.” Charles reached for another crumpet.
“Edward, I hope you don’t mind. I asked Charles to join us for the opera on Friday.” Daphne lifted her cup to her smiling lips.
So she did hope to make Edward jealous. She didn’t know him as well as she thought. “I’d be pleased to have him join us.” He returned her smile. “Perhaps Lady Wayte would accompany us.”
Both ladies lost their composure. Lady Wayte recovered first. “Thank you, but I must decline.”
“You are aware, Edward,” Daphne said, “the opera couldn’t compete with Lady Wayte’s parties. They are the talk of the Ton.”
“I don’t give parties these days.”
Sarah was taking all this in, a bit too closely. “One of her parties was written up in the Gazette. She pushed Lord Holgarth in the goldfish pond.”
Aunt Chloe’s familiar frown scrunched in place as she darted Sarah another warning glance. “One more word from you, young lady, and you’ll be excused.”
Edward caught his sister’s mute appeal but shook his head. She brushed crumbs from her dress and pushed back against the cushions. “Yes, Aunt Chloe.”
Sarah didn’t realize how these barbs distressed Lady Wayte, but Daphne did. Edward had never seen this side of her, and he didn’t like it.
Not knowing how to handle the females, he turned back to Charles. “I haven’t seen you at White’s lately, old man.”
“I let my membership lapse.” Charles’s chuckle sounded forced. “My finances have been strained of late, but the estate is beginning to produce. I managed to get a shipment of rye on Sir Harcrumb’s vessel headed for the near east. It sails in the morning.”
Abruptly, Lady Wayte’s cup clattered against her saucer and tumbled, bouncing off her lap onto the floor, spilling the contents on her gown. Edward dove for the cup and handed her a napkin. She took it with a hand that shook. He glanced at her face, finding it drained of color.
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel well of a sudden. I beg your pardons, but I must go home.”
Aunt Chloe sprang from her chair. “Let me call my maid, Lady Wayte. She may be able to blot that stain before it sets.” His aunt’s unexpected charity surprised Edward.
“No…no, thank you. It’ll wait until I get home.” Lady Wayte rose and reached Edward’s arm for support.
“I’ll escort you home,” he said.
Daphne jumped to her feet. “Charles would be happy to take Lady Wayte home. It isn’t far and—”
“I’ll take her.” Edward kept a firm hold on Lady Wayte’s arm as he guided her outside. He couldn’t imagine what might have sickened her, unless it was those densely rich scones.
“It’ll only take a moment to get the carriage.” Edward lifted his hand to hail a groom.
She dragged in a deep breath. “I’d rather walk. The air should do me good.”
Edward slashed the air with his hand to dismiss the approaching groom. “Perhaps you’re right.”
They walked over the manicured grass covering the front lawn. She moved quickly, and he had to lengthen his long strides to keep up. Before he delivered her to the front door, he wanted to clear the air. “If I might drop the formalities for a moment, Lady Wayte. I apologize for my guest’s rude behavior.” He didn’t mention the guest by name, but she would know.
She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m used to such
behavior, your grace.”
“That doesn’t make it right. There seems to be an uncontrollable urge for the upper crust of society to…well, to…”
He couldn’t find a pleasant way to say it, but she understood. “To keep others in their place?”
“It all comes with the Right of Kings doctrine I suppose. People believe that God approves the station one is born into, and everyone should be satisfied. Yet they forget that God isn’t a respecter of persons.” They’d almost reached her gate, and he rushed to get his point across. “I remember my mother saying that she wouldn’t be surprised if we found our stations reversed in heaven. Because of that, she was kind to all her servants.”
Now she would think he regarded her as a servant. As he fumbled with the gate’s latch, she favored him with a smile. “That sounds much like what Lord Wayte would have said. He often boldly reminded people of those scriptures they conveniently forgot. He was quite a Bible scholar.”
Edward held the gate open for her. “I’d heard that said of him.” He wanted to hold her back. So much more needed to be said, but she walked ahead, seemingly in a hurry. He ran to catch up with her. “Lady Wayte, might I ask a favor of you?”
She turned from the front door, giving him a questioning look. Nerves overcame him as he realized how much he wanted to spend time with her, and how she could crush him if she refused. “I understand why you wouldn’t wish to attend the opera with Lady Ashford, but I’ve promised to take Sarah to a Punch and Judy show for ages. I wonder if you’d accompany us to Mayfair this Saturday.”
He relaxed as both her eyes and her smile widened. “A Punch and Judy Show? I’ve not seen one since I was a child. I would enjoy that immensely.” Her color had returned, in fact, he’d swear she was blushing.
She opened the door but hesitated. “There is one thing I wish you to understand, your grace. It’s true that Lord Wayte took me into his protection, but there was nothing tawdry about it. I can’t allow anyone to besmirch his name.”
The Duke's Dilemma (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 2) Page 4
