Now, she was here again, wearing the scandalous dress she had commissioned last Season since it was the only other new frock she had at the moment. A different ball at another elegant London home. Was this all her life was to be? What of the Gray Ladies? She and Evan had not discussed them since they left Brambly Fields, though she could also admit that both of them had a great deal on their minds. Still, that organization was to be her life's work, to make certain that young ladies in need of proper escorts had them when necessary. Now? Instead of tending to the business - though she had to admit that the woman appointed by Franklin was running it admirably - she was acting as if she was a young debutante without a care in the world. That was not at all like her. That was not the sort of woman her father had raised her to be.
"Ready, Cassandra?" Evan asked when it was clear she was hesitating. "We can still decline if you wish. We are not yet inside, and it is never too late. Just say the word, and we will be gone." He could tell she was preoccupied but he did not press her for answers and she was grateful. Another man might have demanded to know what was wrong, but not Evan. If nothing else, over the last year, they had developed a sense of trust between them that she knew would be all but impossible to find with another man.
Instead, she notched her chin a bit higher and shook her head. "No. I am fine. You need a wife and I have spent far too much of your money on this ballgown for it to go to waste. Let us go in."
"For what it is worth, Cassie, you look exquisitely lovely in that gown, no matter the cost." His voice was low, almost sultry, and for a moment, Cassandra felt warmed from the inside out, especially at his use of her nickname.
"Thank you, Evan. It is kind of you to say." She didn't feel particularly beautiful this evening, but then she rarely did. She was hardly a diamond of the first water like most of the women she had met today at Madame LaVallier's. Not even in this scandalously beautiful gown.
He gave her a peculiar, sidelong glance. "I do not give false flattery, Queen. You know me well enough by now."
She actually was quite breathtaking this evening. Though Evan did his best not to notice such things where Cassandra was concerned, tonight she glittered as brightly as any star in the sky. How could he not notice? He wasn't blind after all.
Her new gown was extremely low cut so that it showed off the gentle swells of her breasts to great effect. It was one of the few gowns she had ordered before they left London for the Christmastide season the previous year and it had been worth every penny spent on its creation. Earlier, he had thought the dress was completely silver but now, standing in the cascading light of the Weston home, it appeared a mixture of silver and gold with hints of blue and purple and green mixed in that shimmered as she moved. Surely a trick of the light, but it was a stunning creation just the same.
It also flattered her delectable figure, and he prayed that there were no fortune hunters in attendance that night. For if there were, those men would be hard pressed not to notice the way the fabric hugged her lush curves and molded to her delightful breasts.
Not that Evan should be noticing any of that, either. Not even a little bit. He was here to find a wife. If Cassandra attracted some male attention at the same time, well, then perhaps so much the better, but that was not the intent of the evening.
By the time they made it inside the town home and through the line to be introduced, Evan could already tell that Cassandra was more relaxed than she had been earlier. He would not say she was completely at ease, but whatever the source of her earlier agitation, she no longer appeared ready to bolt out the front door at a moment's notice.
In fact, she seemed rather enamored of Lord Weston himself, though Evan had long since decided that the so-called "American Marquess" was not the sort of husband Cassandra needed. The chap might be handsome - or so he was told, for Evan was not really one to judge male attractiveness - but he was also cloaked in scandal, including this evening, apparently. Something involving his sister's new companion, a Miss Denton, at least from the gossip that had already reached his ears.
Once inside, Evan sought out Lord and Lady Hathaway and when he was certain that Cassandra was safe with them - along with instructions that she was not to accept a dance request from any gentleman - he began making his way along the far wall towards the refreshment table, hoping to gain some sense of which eligible young ladies were present that evening. He could not afford to be choosy, really, but he did hope that he might find at least one young lady that he could possibly converse with. He would hate to think that he would lack even basic adult conversation for the rest of his life.
As he neared the refreshment table, however, his high hopes were quickly dashed.
In one corner, he spotted Lady Wicksham and her daughter Unity, who looked as if a good gust of wind might blow her over. By the punch bowl, he saw Lady Carver and her two daughters, Barbara and Fredericka, neither of whom appealed to him for they both giggled too much and tended not to eat more than a mouthful of food at a sitting, though they heaped their plates high just the same and were constantly in need of new gowns. Hiding amongst the ferns was Lady Kingstree and her extremely obstinate daughter, Justinia, a harridan if ever there was one who, rumor had it, did not like to be touched and had once attempted to punch Lord Hunt for daring to steady the woman so she wouldn't fall off of a rather high terrace and injure herself.
There was also Miss Buxton, a merchant's daughter who was lovely but also had the personality of a shrew, Lady Aphrodite Travers who was the daughter of a reprobate earl in need of a serious influx of funds, the voluptuous Miss Andrews who was rumored to enjoy both men and women in the bedchamber, and the rather mousy Lady Agnes Barnes who might have a brain in her head but had so many medical maladies that she spent at least ten months out of any given year abed with her various illnesses.
Sadly, none of those young ladies appealed to him in the least, but he knew that this season, his choices would likely be few. Most of the women of good breeding and who were more than a year or two out of the schoolroom were either already wed or it was widely known that their hearts were engaged elsewhere, such as was the case with Lord Chillton's remaining two unwed sisters, Dory and Aurelia.
While Evan did not think love was even a consideration for any marriage he might contract, he did at least accept that some couples could and often did fall in love. He was not about to force a woman into marrying him if she was already in love with another, especially if the man she was in love with was someone Evan counted among his friends.
He was about to move off to the card room for a bit when a flash of gold and silver tinged with blue caught his eye. There was Cassandra being led onto the dance floor despite his earlier instructions. Some distance behind her he could see Lady Hathaway attempting to scramble through the crowd to reach her friend while one Mr. Roger Follett smirked in the duchess' general direction, his arm firmly clamped around Cassandra's forearm.
For her part, Cassandra looked as if she was ready to either bite the man or kick him in the cock and simply risk the social disaster that would occur from such an action. No, this was not good and suddenly, without thinking, Evan found himself rushing into action. He did not think it possible for him to move any faster until he heard the first strains of a waltz. Then, it was as if he had wings upon his feet, pushing through the crowd as quickly as he could without being outright rude.
Cassandra did not dance. Everyone knew this. If she waltzed with Follett that was tantamount to announcing that he was courting her. If he courted her, then Society would expect a betrothal next and then a wedding. Evan could not allow that fate to befall her. He half-hoped that there was some provision in old Berkshire's will that would prevent such a thing but given the man's rather twisted nature and perverse way of thinking, Evan rather doubted it.
As he reached the edge of the dance floor, Evan saw the unholy glee clearly etched in Follett's disgusting smile. The man obviously believed that he had won his war against Evan on some level, and perhaps he ha
d. Just because Evan did not know the full contents of Berkshire's will, that did not mean that others did not.
Cassandra looked as if she was ready to scream and it was likely only her proper upbringing that prevented her from doing so. Her lips were set in a grim line and she held herself stiffly, as far out of the man's embrace as possible, even though it was clear that Follett was doing everything within his power to pull her scandalously close.
Follett leaned down and whispered something in Cassandra's ear. She grimaced and turned away in disgust but the man just laughed. Then he licked his lips as he gazed longingly at Cassandra's breasts.
Evan felt a wave of pure rage well up inside of him. This was wrong. He might be a cad and a womanizer and everything just this side of a true libertine, but he was still a gentleman and true gentleman did not allow ladies to suffer at the hands of cads who would do nothing but destroy them.
More than that, this was Cassandra.
His Cassie.
The mere idea of this wretched man laying a single hand upon her had Evan clenching his fists at his sides.
It could not happen. It would not happen. Not now and not ever. Not while he still had breath left in his body. He might not love Cassandra but he cared for her. She was under his protection and damn it, he would do everything within his power to see her happy and safe. His honor demanded nothing less.
Just then, he saw Follett's right hand slide a bit lower so it came to rest at the swell of her backside.
Evan's vision went black for a moment and something inside of him snapped, driving him into action.
Without thinking of the consequences, he pushed through the rest of the crowd and stormed onto the dance floor, practically snatching Cassandra out of Follett's grasp. The other man was so busy with his slow perusal of Cassandra's body that he hadn't even noticed Evan's approach. However, he did notice when the feminine hip he had been fondling was no longer in his grasp as Evan yanked Cassandra away and practically shoved her behind him.
"What do you think you are doing, Berkshire!" Follett hissed as he reached for Cassandra again, though given that he had to go through Evan to reach her, it was a futile effort.
"You do not touch what is mine, Follett," Evan growled fiercely. "I thought I was clear on that matter."
"She is not yours," the other man sneered. "You have no claim upon her and I am free to pursue her if I wish. And I do wish. Very much. With, of course, the intention to wed her and then bed her - with or without her guardian's approval!"
Follett's crass, disgusting words rang out clearly through the ballroom and Evan could hear the collective gasp of the crowd behind him. Most members of the peerage knew of this man's proclivities and his intense longing to join the ranks of Upper Ten Thousand. That he had set his sights on Cassandra when there were other, and likely far easier ways to become a part of the aristocracy, spoke to a plan on Follett's part. A plan Evan probably would not care for very much.
This was madness. Evan realized desperately that had to stop this, even if he caused a scandal in the process. He absolutely could not allow this man to get his claws into Cassandra - and through her, Berkshire.
Because suddenly, it became clear as the crystal on his sideboard that this was nothing more than a power play for Follett and Cassandra merely a pawn to be used for the man's benefit. He didn't want her. He wanted the marquisate and for some reason, Follett thought he could obtain it through Cassandra.
When he was finished? Likely she would be cast aside when she had served her purpose. If she lived that long. Evan shuddered at the thought.
And what of Franklin? And Aunt Louisa? What happened to them if he was no longer Berkshire? Worse, what would they say if he simply stood there and allowed Cassandra to be seduced and debauched and then wed to this monster of a man? Likely nothing good. Could Follett somehow leap over Evan himself in the line of succession simply by marrying Cassandra? It should not be possible but God only knew what was in that wretched will. No. He could not and would not allow this to happen.
Squaring his shoulders, Evan knew that the next words he was about to speak would condemn both him and Cassandra for the rest of their lives. He prayed that she would not come to hate him for what he was about to do.
"She is not yours, Follett. She is mine and has been for some time. So I will ask you one more time, politely and as a gentleman, do not trouble my betrothed or me again or you shall answer to me. Do not even so much as look in her direction or you will regret that act. She is to be my wife and I will not have her reputation sullied by a man like you panting after her like some rabid dog. Have I made myself clear?"
This time the gasp from the collective crowd surrounding the ballroom floor was louder and followed by a rash of conversation - some whispered and some not. Behind him, Evan felt Cassandra stiffen. He did not know if that was a good omen or not. At the moment, he was inclined to think not. In fact, were he a betting man, he would wager that she was likely furious with him. But better furious than dead, he supposed.
"Betrothed?" Follett all but sneered the word. "The lady said naught of it to me! You lie!"
Evan crossed his arms over his chest, well aware that this was a gamble he could not afford to lose. "Do I? Are you so certain of that? And have a care how you answer, for I will demand satisfaction if you offend me and mine." For even now, he could see that the other man was beginning to sweat and shift uncomfortably, as if the possibility that Evan and Cassandra were already lovers - or were about to become - was only now beginning to occur to him.
"The papers indicated that you were not betrothed and not ever likely to be! At least not to her!" Follett cried as he attempted to circle Evan again still trying to reach Cassandra. As if by laying hands on her again, he could somehow claim her as his property in a room full of the best of Society.
"The papers lie." Evan sighed lazily, doing his best "bored lord" impression. "Every gossip rag out there has a different story." He snorted. "And you chose to believe a gossip rather than asking the lady herself?"
"But last night at the Crystal Ball...." Follett frowned and paused.
Evan nodded. "Yes, last night at the Crystal Ball, you were refused not just a waltz but a dance and a turn about the room because Miss Grove was already spoken for - by me!"
"No one informed me of that!"
This time, Evan rolled his eyes for good effect. "I was unaware that we had to run our matrimonial plans past you. Good God, man, did it not occur to you that we had our reasons for not announcing our betrothal just yet?"
If Evan was going to make a spectacle of himself this evening, then he was determined to go all the way. He never did anything by half measures and he was not about to this time either. He was also certain that this little scandal he was making would be all over the papers tomorrow. Which was why he was going to propose to Cassandra tonight when they returned home and he would make bloody damn sure she agreed to wed him.
"You lie!" Follett was practically frothing at the mouth now.
Evan sighed again. "Just because you keep saying that does not make it true." Then he turned around to face Cassandra, drawing her gloved hand to his lips and kissing it gently. "I can assure you, I do not lie."
Though from the expression on her face, it was obvious to Evan that Cassandra desperately wanted him to be lying. However, he could not think about that now. Instead, he turned back to Follett once more.
"Now be gone, Follett and leave my betrothed in peace. I will not warn you again."
For a long moment, the other man stood there staring daggers back and forth between Evan and Cassandra. Had they been alone, Evan was quite certain that he would have had to fight Follett for her hand. However here in the middle of Lord Weston's ballroom, there was only so much that could be done.
"This is not over, Berkshire." Follett drew himself up and tugged officiously at his jacket lapels. "We shall see how long this betrothal of yours lasts and whether or not the two of you even make it to the altar. I would
wager my best stallion that you do not." Then he spun on his heel and left, leaving a pack of whispering, gossip hungry members of the ton in his wake.
Finally, Evan turned back to Cassandra. "Well, my darling, are you ready to depart? I believe that we now have much to discuss."
If looks could kill, Evan knew he would be a dead man just then. "Oh yes, my dear marquess," she all but cooed sweetly. "I am ready to return home to Auntie Louisa, for we have so very, very many things to discuss it seems." Then she pinned him with a nearly lethal glare. "So many more than I had even anticipated."
Chapter Six
Evan was quite surprised that Cassandra was able to keep her temper in check until they returned to Berkshire House. In fact, she had been completely silent since the moment he had swept onto the ballroom floor and whisked her out of Follett's arms, claiming her as his own. This was likely not a sign of good things to come for him, but he did admire her restraint. After all, they would be splashed all over the papers on the 'morrow. There was no need to make the situation any worse.
He knew his good fortune could not last forever, however, so he was not surprised when she stormed after him into his study, dogging his steps even as he shouted out orders to Holcroft, his butler, to send for Franklin immediately. In addition to officially proposing to Cassandra, Evan needed a good solicitor who occasionally doubled as a barrister as well, and he did not think that Jacob Beeston was available at the moment. Besides, Evan wanted Franklin to be present when this farce finally played out. He had a feeling he might need the man's guidance.
Once Cassandra was safely inside his study, Evan locked the doors behind him, hoping to keep Aunt Louisa at bay for a bit. He had no doubt the crafty old woman would find a way inside in due time, but he wanted a few moments alone with Cassandra first so that they might work this out.
A Scandal In the Making Page 8
