An Exotic Heir

by Meredith Bond

  She must have realized that there was no way that they could be married and fled in her sorrow.

  Julian smiled, even as the tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. She was so wonderful, so thoughtful. She must have known that he was going to give up his life for her and didn’t want him to do so. That was the only explanation.

  But to leave India entirely was a very drastic move. How had she done it so quickly?

  Unconsciously, he rode to work. He was still sitting on his horse just outside the Writers’ Building wondering about Cassandra, when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Julian! What are you doing here? Did you not send a message earlier saying that you were ill?”

  Julian looked down at Reggie and gave his friend a sad smile. “Yes, I am.”

  He slid from his horse. “She’s gone, Reggie.”

  Reggie understood immediately. “It’s better this way, Julian.”

  “No! No, it is not.” Julian was suddenly very angry. “She should not have just left like that. I love her!”

  Reggie’s eyes widened. “Truly? But you said it was just a game! I told her it was just a game.”

  “You… you told her?” Julian found himself shouting. Passers-by stared and moved to the other side of the sidewalk to avoid the altercation.

  “It was just a game, Julian. You said so yourself. But she had truly fallen in love with you and turned down a very good marriage proposal thinking that you would do the honorable thing.” Reggie looked warily at his friend.

  “I was going to do the honorable thing, you fool! I was at Clive Street today ready to propose to her.” Julian felt the blood pounding in his ears.

  “I… I am sorry, Julian. But it is better this way. You know that, don’t you?” Reggie said, nervously.

  “No, I do not know that.” His hands flexed themselves ready to hurt his friend. Friend indeed! “You betrayed me,” he growled.

  “Yes, I know. I… I am sorry, Julian. I truly am. But I had to.” Reggie looked at Julian’s fists but then boldly looked up again to look Julian straight in the eye.

  Julian understood his friend had done what he thought to be right. Before he lost control, he mounted his horse and rode away.

  The pounding in his head echoed the horse’s hoof beats as he rode out of town. He had to get away. He rode the animal hard not caring where he was going.

  Finally, hours later, he turned homeward. As he wound his way home, the gray dusk mirrored his emotions. He was slowly dismounting, when his mother came running from the house.

  “Julian, Julian, where have you been all day? You missed him! He waited and waited, until he could wait no longer. He said he would miss the ship.”

  Julian looked at his mother numbly. Slowly taking in her distress, but not comprehending her words, he said, “What are you talking about, Ma? Who did I miss? What ship?”

  “The ship to England. He had to take the ship leaving for England this evening.” His mother hung on his sleeve, looking desperately up at him.

  “Gone to England? Who was it?” Julian was getting more and more confused.

  His mother handed him a letter. “The Englishman said it was all explained in here. But do come inside. It is too late now anyway,” she said sadly.

  The lines of the letter were closely written and he had a difficult time deciphering them, but in the end he believed he understood it all. He finally looked up at his mother with a sigh.

  She sat at the edge of a chair next to him, eagerly waiting for him to finish reading the letter.

  “Well?” she asked as he turned back to the first page. “Has your papa finally made good on his promise to send for you? I must say I had completely given up any hope of him doing so. He’s had one excuse after another and has completely stopped mentioning it in his more recent letters. That he still writes to us and sends money is really all that matters now.”

  His mother stopped talking abruptly and gripped her hands together. Her expression was so hopeful Julian hated what he had to do next.

  Putting the letter down on the table next to him, he took hold of his mother’s hands. He could hardly bear to look into her eyes.

  “I am sorry, Ma. Papa has died,” he said as gently as he could.

  She looked confused. “Your papa has died? But how? How could he be dead? He is so young… No, I suppose he has grown old as I have.

  “How… how did he die?” she asked again, blinking away the tears began to slip from the corners of her eyes.

  “In a carriage accident.” Julian picked up the letter again. “But Ma, that’s not all.”

  Julian quickly scanned the lines once again to find what he was looking for. “It says here that my father was an earl, Ma!”

  Julian looked for some recognition of this in his mother’s face, but she just grew confused once again.

  “An earl? Oh, yes,” she said vaguely, “I believe he did mention that once to me. I never paid much attention to it. I was very young and did not understand what it meant. He was an earl?” she asked, still a little confused.

  But then her eyes grew very large. “But Julian, that means that you are now an earl!”

  “Yes! That is why this man-he must have been Papa’s solicitor-wanted me to go to England as soon as possible, to take up my position as the Earl of Huntley. It says here that there is a considerable estate in Kent with earnings of twenty thousand pounds a year!

  “Ma, can you imagine? That’s why Papa never had any difficulty sending you money every year, and sending me to the best schools. He was as rich as Croesus. And now I am to inherit it!”

  Julian sat up straighter in his chair, quite in awe of the thought of having such a fortune and a title as well. My goodness, the thought was mind boggling, he even out-ranked Sir Lionel–he was only a baronet!

  He wondered what Lady Renwick would think of him now that he was an earl. But then, it did not really matter what she thought any more, now that Cassandra was gone.

  Cassandra! It suddenly occurred to him that Cassandra was probably on the same ship as the solicitor who had brought him this letter.

  Julian unconsciously let out a groan and dropped his head into his hand. He could have been there with her on the ship. There was probably even an empty cabin reserved for him.

  If only he had known… Surely, Sir Lionel would not object to his daughter marrying him now.

  Then an idea struck him. He got up and began to pace around the room. He would travel to England, find Cassandra and marry her there!

  Life was decidedly looking better.

  But then he looked over at his mother, who, too, was lost in her own thoughts. Tears were running slowly down her cheeks as she silently mourned the loss of her husband.

  She must have felt his gaze. She looked up at him. “I have lost not only a husband, but a son as well.”

  She looked back down at her hands and her tears began to flow a little faster as she pulled off the gold bangles she always wore.

  “I won’t need these now that I am a widow,” she whispered to herself.

  Julian fell on his knees in front of her and grasped her trembling hands.

  “No, Ma.”

  She gave him a watery smile and then extracted one of her hands from his. Putting her bracelets into his hand she said, “Give them to her. I am sure Miss Renwick will look beautiful in them.”

  Julian nearly broke down and cried as well. He steadied himself, but said in a choked voice, “I am going to miss you, Ma.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  London, April, 1811

  With a lift of her chin, Cassandra walked into the Debenhams’ ball. She was going make a splash. She was going to be hailed as an incomparable tonight, a diamond of the first water. That’s what she had decided. That’s what she told herself. No more hiding her light and following her cousin’s lead. Olivia was a wonderful girl, but Cassandra had to shine.

  She slowed her steps behind her cousin, Lady Bradmore, and allowed her best friend, Olivia
, to take the lead. Could she do this? Did she have the ability, the beauty, the charm?

  Cassandra straightened her shoulders and moved herself forward again. If she was going to pull it off, she had to do it right, she scolded herself. She couldn’t back down now.

  Aunt Bradmore looked at her quizzically, before turning to greet their host and hostess. “How do you do, Lord Debenham, Lady Debenham? You remember my daughter Olivia?” She paused while Olivia made her curtsy. “And my young cousin, Cassandra Renwick? Cassandra has recently returned from India.”

  “Oh my, you poor dear! Whatever made you go to that awful place?” Lady Debenham said, pressing Cassandra’s hand.

  Cassandra forced a smile onto her face. “It was not awful at all, actually. I found Calcutta quite fascinating, my lady.” Except, of course, for the cruel, heartless, idiotic men who live there, Cassandra added to herself.

  “Really? Well, I am certain that you are happy to be back home in a civilized country again, my dear. Do enjoy yourself,” Lady Debenham said, before turning to greet her next guests.

  Cassandra allowed herself to be led through to the other side of the ballroom, where Aunt Bradmore found some empty chairs.

  It amazed Cassandra how familiar all of this was. Aside from the lack of flowers and the fewer number of officers, everything at this ball looked identical to the balls in Calcutta. Once more, she marveled at how hard the Englishwomen in Calcutta had worked to keep everything exactly the same as in England.

  It was only the smell of those wonderful Indian flowers that was lacking. She twitched her nose as she passed by a particularly heady fragrance emanating from a lady dressed all in gold. It was very much a shame that English flowers didn’t smell as strongly as those grown in India, this ballroom could certainly do with some.

  Cassandra could not stop herself from looking around for Mr. Ritchie. No! She shook her head. She was being ridiculous, he wasn’t here, he couldn’t be. He was thousands of miles away in Calcutta.

  An ache clutched at her heart. It was duller now, but still there.

  Throughout her first two weeks on the ship, the pain had kept her in her bed. But then, slowly, as the days passed, she’d been able to get up, to deal with the heartbreak from Julian’s deception. It had begun to lessen on the ship, but still it was not entirely gone.

  Cassandra wondered if it would ever completely go away.

  But today she was beginning a different campaign–one that would make up for all the heartache and melancholy that she had experienced over the last year. Tonight she was here to attract attention—and not just anybody’s attention. Like most of the other young, unmarried girls here, she wanted to attract the attention of the most handsome, eligible, and powerful gentlemen.

  Only, she didn’t want to marry them.

  She wanted to use them.

  She unfurled her fan and waved it vigorously in front of her face. Just look at all of these men, smiling and laughing with the young ladies here. How many hearts were going to be toyed with tonight? How many girls would fall in love, only to have that tender emotion hang unrequited, or worse, for their hearts to be cruelly broken as hers had been–twice?

  “Psst! Cassandra!” Olivia leaned across her mother, pulling Cassandra away from her unpleasant thoughts. “Remember to be languid, relaxed.” Olivia gave Cassandra’s fan a meaningful look.

  Right. Olivia had told Cassandra that the way to catch the eye of a gentleman was to pretend that you weren’t interested. Since she was determined to become an incomparable, she had to not only look the part—thus their many expeditions to the modiste’s—but she had to act the part as well.

  Cassandra immediately schooled her face into one of impassivity and boredom, and began to wave her fan lazily back and forth in front of her.

  Dear Olivia was so much better at giving instructions than at carrying them out herself, Cassandra noticed, sliding her eyes over to look at her friend.

  Olivia was sitting at the edge of her chair, looking around the room eagerly. Cassandra smiled, breaking her mask of languidness. Her cousin looked rather like a bird of prey scouting out its next meal. Her thin, hawk-like face was intent, and her eyes darted around here and there. She was still the quiet, demure girl she’d always been, only now with a slightly desperate edge. It was a shame. Cassandra wished desperately that her cousin could find some sweet gentleman for herself.

  Oddly enough, Olivia’s advice did work, for very soon a gentleman sauntered up to them, bowing to Lady Bradmore.

  “Dear Lady Bradmore, you must introduce me to this beautiful young lady,” the tall, thin gentleman said, taking Cassandra’s hand.

  Cassandra had to resist the urge to snatch her hand back. After all, wasn’t this was what she wanted, male attention?

  Her heart began to beat faster. How many hearts had this horrid creature broken?

  Cassandra forced a small smile on to her lips. It was a very practiced smile, but she hoped it would be good enough to fool the gentleman who was now looking at her with such warm interest.

  “But of course, your grace. Cassandra, this is the Duke of Hawksmore. Your grace, my cousin, Miss Cassandra Renwick,” Aunt Bradmore said, as the duke bowed and kissed Cassandra’s hand. “And, of course, you remember my daughter, Olivia?”

  The duke hardly took his eyes from Cassandra as he acknowledged Olivia. Cassandra, on her part, did her best to remain poised, keeping her precise smile on her face and trying not to appear either too excited to meet a duke, nor too languid lest he think less of her.

  “It is a striking gown you are wearing, Miss Renwick. Dare I assume that you have recently come from India?”

  Cassandra had almost forgotten that she was wearing one of her new dresses. She had had a few new gowns made from the saris she had brought back from Calcutta.

  She had designed the dress herself, to look almost as if she were wearing a sari, complete with the part that went over the shoulder and hung down her back. She was very pleased with the way it had turned out. It was certainly the most elegant dress she had ever owned, and it had gotten quite a few looks already this evening.

  “It would be the most obvious assumption, your grace, and of course, a correct one. My parents are in Calcutta, where my father is working with the Governor-General.”

  “In that case, we should count ourselves very lucky to have you here in London.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She tried to look demure, lowering her eyes.

  The opening strains of the cotillion were played by the orchestra and guests began to crowd the floor for the dance.

  “Miss Renwick, would you honor me with a dance?” The duke held out his arm, which, after permission was given by Lady Bradmore, Cassandra took with a quick backward glance of triumph to Olivia.

  From that moment on, Cassandra was barely given an opportunity to rest. So many gentlemen, only some of whom she had met during her first, very brief, season the previous June, requested introductions–and all of them requested a dance.

  For the rest of the evening she allowed her natural vibrancy to shine, working hard to remain as amusing and alluring, while still appearing to be the sweet, innocent girl that she was. All thoughts of Mr. Ritchie were firmly tethered to the back of her mind as she allowed her inner actress to reign. Oh yes, she truly was cut out for the stage.

  No one was surprised by the number of bouquets of flowers that covered every possible space in the drawing room the following day.

  The only thing that marred Cassandra’s joy in her social success was that Lord Felbridge wasn’t there to see it. After making her the laughingstock of society and breaking her heart, it would have been perfect if he could see how popular she was now.

  “Cassandra, how can you even think of Lord Felbridge at a time like this? You’ve become an incomparable overnight!”

  “But that is the whole point, Olivia. I wanted the social success only so that I could show him just what he lost,” Cassandra said, plucking at a soft pink rose.
r />   “Is that the only reason? For revenge?” Olivia asked. Her eyes revealing her surprise.

  Cassandra supposed that Olivia had thought that she wanted to attract gentlemen so that she could marry one.

  But then Olivia didn’t know all that Cassandra had been through. She was about to learn.

  “Yes!” Cassandra said, whirling around toward Olivia. “Revenge!”

  She began to move around the room, plucking petals from flowers here and there. “I want revenge. I want Lord Felbridge to kick himself for passing me up. To drown himself in brandy because he caused me to leave London, instead of marrying me on the spot. I want him to rue the day he ever toyed with Cassandra Renwick!” She snapped off the head of an expensive tulip.

  Olivia was speechless.

  “That is a very dangerous game to play, my dear,” Lady Bradmore said, coming into the room.

  Looking about at the petals strewn everywhere and at the decapitated tulip in Cassandra’s hand, she said, “You must be very careful when trying to bring down an esteemed member of the ton like Lord Felbridge. He is a well-respected man and you, despite your success last night, are still new to society and in a very tenuous situation.”

  Aunt Bradmore plucked a red rose petal from the arm of the sofa and fingered its softness, releasing its gentle fragrance into the air.

  “Your dowry makes you eligible to make your bow to the beau monde, Cassandra,” she said. “And your father’s position in the East India Company is excellent. But you are still the daughter of a baronet. I’m sorry, my dear, but you would do better to play it safe. Enjoy your popularity and use it to find a good husband, but I would not push it further than that.”

  Cassandra tossed the tulip on to the table in front of her. “You may be right, Aunt, but I am afraid I cannot follow your advice. I am going to continue with my campaign and we will see what comes of it.”

  “Very well, Cassandra. But remember, it is your neck.”