Once Upon A Regency

by Samantha Grace

  Cassandra should have been shocked, but wasn’t. Mama never looked at another man romantically speaking, so her love had been apparent. “When did he die?”

  A footman entered at that moment bearing a tray with tea and biscuits. Aunt Wilhelmina poured and handed a cup to Cassandra, but didn’t continue the conversation even when the footman left.

  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the two women sipping their tea, Cassandra asked again. “When did my father die? I must have been quite young, as I can recall nothing about him.”

  “He didn’t die. As far as I know, he’s still alive.”

  Cassandra’s tea cup rattled on its saucer and she set it down quickly. She clenched her hands together in an attempt to quell her shaking. This was the last news she expected to hear. “I don’t understand. Mama always said he died.”

  “He was as good as dead to us. You see, he deserted your mother when you were barely a year old.”

  Rising, Cassandra strode to the window, staring out on the drive and the pond beyond it. Her father hadn’t wanted either of them. Most likely he’d never loved Mama. She must have been heartbroken. “How sad for Mama.”

  “That was only the start of her problems with the man. A year later we had news he’d married again. He’d never divorced your mother, of course. He simply took up a new life in another town and married this poor woman, who was also with child.”

  Wringing her hands together, Cassandra paced between her chair and the window. “What a horrid man. It’s no surprise Mama refused to tell me anything about him. What became of him?”

  “We only learned of his new wife by accident. A friend who crossed paths with him told us. When our friend learned he’d married again, we reported Mr. Norton to the magistrate. Your father was convicted of bigamy and sentenced to a year’s confinement in Newgate prison.”

  This news was almost as harsh as if she’d learned she was a bastard. “My father was a criminal. What does that make me?” Cassandra knew the answer to that. It made her unsuitable to marry anyone. Unsuitable to have children, who’d be forever tainted by his acts.

  “It makes you exactly what you were before this news. I knew I shouldn’t have told you. I’d have let you continue believing he was dead, but if you heard it from someone else, you’d never have forgiven me.”

  Noticing a portrait on the wall, Cassandra said, “This is my mother, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. She was twenty then. We had that painted just before she met your father.”

  “She looks so innocent. As far back as I can remember, she had shadows under her eyes, and a hint of sadness about her features.”

  “Joan was nearly destroyed to discover he’d married again. She’d believed he must have been killed by a highwayman when he didn’t return home.” Aunt Wilhelmina came to Cassandra and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You mustn’t dwell on this. The only thing that matters is that you are Cassandra Franklin now, not Cassandra Norton. No one will know of the connection between you and that awful man.”

  “I’ll know. How can I marry without telling my husband? If he learned of it at some point, he’d never forgive me. He might abandon me. Take our children and leave me to fend for myself. He’d have grounds to divorce me, wouldn’t he?”

  “I should never have told you.” Aunt Wilhelmina turned away, wringing her hands.

  “No, you did the right thing. If Mama had told me, it wouldn’t have been left to you.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Her aunt offered her a weak smile. “Well, what shall we do to cheer ourselves? I know, we’ll go shopping. A new hat or gown always cheers me. Oh, I’m forgetting myself. You probably have very little in the way of clothing, am I right? We must have you measured, fabrics chosen, patterns decided upon. We have days of distraction ahead of us.”

  Cassandra tried to appear enthusiastic when she felt anything but. “Yes, we do. We shall have a grand time shopping, won’t we?”

  By the end of the week, Cassandra didn’t want to see another piece of fabric or decide upon the perfect shade of ribbon. She longed to see Agnes. She’d give anything to speak to Lord Spalding. Surprisingly, she missed Fenwick Abbey even more than her home in Savanna-la-Mar.

  Aunt Wilhelmina kept busy writing letters of invitation to her friends. “We have two weeks to make a list of activities, plan our menus, hire musicians—”

  “Musicians?”

  “Of course. We shall have dancing one night. You do dance, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know a few dances. Lady Agnes tried to teach me a few more but I’m not a quick study.”

  “You’re quite fond of Lady Agnes, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t imagine we’d be any closer if we were sisters.”

  “I see.” Her expression didn’t offer the slightest hint of what she was thinking. “You must be tired of sitting and listening to my prattle. Why don’t you and Ann go out in the garden and take some air.”

  Walking with her maid in the garden only gave her more time with her thoughts. Knowing the truth about her father only proved her unsuitability as the wife of any man of Quality. Aunt Wilhelmina meant well, but Cassandra knew in her heart she’d have to confess Mr. Norton’s—she couldn’t think of him as Father—sins to any man who made an offer for her. It would take a very stout love for a man to accept her, knowing her father had spent a year in Newgate.

  * * * *

  “Father, I tell you I can make this right.” Spalding clenched his hands in his hair. “I will speak to Lord Pendrift and make amends for not marrying Lady Venetia.” Nothing had been spoken yet except between their fathers over whiskey and cards. No arrangements had been made. Their supposed betrothal was only an idea between two business partners, a belief it would make their bond stronger. Spalding had to find a way to make his father allow him to marry Miss Franklin. “You and Lord Pendrift are already close friends, there’s no need to join the two families, is there?”

  His father sighed. “I imagine not. It was just a silly pledge we made not long after we purchased the plantation.”

  “I only hope Lord Pendrift sees it that way.” He honestly didn’t know what the man might think. Would he take it as an insult to his daughter? Make demands that Spalding follow through with the betrothal?

  “This girl, this Miss Franklin…I know you understand your duty to the family.”

  “Yes, Father.” He recited what he’d been taught. “Along with seeing to the well-being of the tenants of the estate, I must produce an heir to keep the earldom in the direct family line.”

  “There’s more to it than that. Your wife will represent the Fenwick title. She must be accomplished and present herself in an elegant way. People should admire her. She must be generous in spirit, but not a spendthrift.”

  “Miss Franklin might not have had the same education as my sisters, but she can learn what she doesn’t already know. You’ve seen her with strangers. She’s quite friendly and presents herself well.”

  “What of her family? You know nothing of them. Are they people we’d wish to align ourselves with? Their history will reflect on our descendants.”

  “We don’t know there is a history. Her father died years ago. No one will remember him. He was no one of importance.” Spalding neglected to mention the fact her father’s name was different than Cassandra’s. There was time to deal with that once they were married. “Her mother’s side of the family is exactly the sort you’d be pleased with. Her great uncle is an earl. While she doesn’t have quite the precedence that Lady Venetia has as the daughter of an earl, Miss Franklin is suitable to be my wife.”

  He jumped to his feet. This decision was much too important to sit back and await an answer. Fear had him in its grip, an ugly beast baring its teeth, ready to bite off his head. What could he do to make his father understand what this meant to him? “The most important thing is I love her. Isn’t that what you want for your grandchildren? To live as happy a life as we’ve had? You and Mother are deeply in love,
and I’ve heard her say you were, too, before you married.”

  “We still are. I suppose you are right. I’ll consider your request to marry Miss Franklin. If Lord Pendrift doesn’t insist you and Lady Venetia marry, you have my consent to ask your young lady.”

  “Thank you, Father.” It took every ounce of control to not leap about and cheer. He kept his decorum and calmly walked from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Not long after Spalding reached his bedchamber, Agnes burst in waving a letter. “I have the happiest news! You’ll never guess. Can you guess what it is?”

  “Agnes, you just said I wouldn’t guess.”

  “I’ll tell you. Lady Royston has invited us to stay at her home. She’s inviting some of her friends, too, but she says she wants to surprise Cassandra by having us attend. She believes our being there will help Cassandra settle into her new home.”

  Spalding’s heart jumped. Here was his chance to profess his love to Cassandra. He should have done so before she left, but he believed letting her go was for the best. She needed to discover who she was, grow beyond of what she feared about her past, before she could move forward with her life.

  He believed that with all his heart, but now he knew just how much he’d suffer in letting her go. He should have handled her departure differently. He should have promised to give her time to adjust to her new life, while asking if she’d marry him when she was ready.

  Now he’d have the chance to do just that.

  “That is good news, Agnes. Does the invitation extend to us all?”

  “Yes, Mother, Matilda, you, and I.”

  He smiled. “Will this require you to buy a new wardrobe?”

  “Only a few gowns. We’ll only be there a week or so.”

  Shaking his head, he watched her bound out of the room. His heart galloped just as quickly, but he did his best to keep his excitement contained.

  MASQUERADING AS A MISS

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cassandra chatted with some of her new friends in the drawing room. The sound of another carriage arriving drew her attention to the window. She hadn’t realized exactly how many people her aunt had invited. Of course there were plenty of bedchambers in the unused wing of the house, but they’d been arriving for days, now. She wondered if they’d continue to come throughout the end of the summer. That would be exhausting. As it was, Cassandra had to slip away for a few hours a day to have some time with her own thoughts. To have some time where she didn’t have to listen to prattle and twitters. It would seem most young ladies of Quality shared a love for speaking as much as Agnes. There weren’t enough Lady Matildas visiting for Cassandra’s taste. She never realized how much she’d one day appreciate the quiet, elder sister in that family.

  A familiar sharp squeal rang out from the drawing room doorway. Cassandra turned away from the girl she’d been speaking to. “Lady Agnes?”

  Her friend rushed to her, arms wide, and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so happy to see you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you. There’s so much that has happened since you left. I must tell you everything.”

  “I’ve been here for a month. How much could have happened?”

  Agnes looked over her shoulder. “You’ll never guess who else has come.”

  Seeing Lady Fenwick and Lady Matilda was no surprise. Then he appeared—Lord Spalding. Cassandra’s mouth went dry and her hands began to shake. Her voice wavered when she spoke. “Lady Fenwick, what a surprise. I’m delighted to see you and your children.” One in particular. The look in his eye said he felt the same way about her.

  “It was very gracious of your aunt to include us all,” Lady Matilda said.

  Cassandra excused herself from her other guests. “Have you been shown your rooms? You must wish to freshen yourselves after your journey.”

  Lady Fenwick eyed her youngest daughter. “Lady Agnes wouldn’t be calm until she’d spoken to you. We must look a fright. Now we’ll go change from our dusty clothes. We’ll return shortly.” She herded her daughters toward the waiting footman.

  Lord Spalding remained behind. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

  “I’ve missed you, too. I’m very pleased you’re here. All of you, that is,” she added as her cheeks grew warm.

  “I gather your aunt didn’t tell you she’d invited us.”

  “No, it’s the greatest surprise.” She recalled the other guests who were in the room behind her. “I look forward to introducing you to my new friends.”

  Spalding glanced over her shoulder as if just noticing the others. “How delightful. I’m sure we’ll have time to talk more later.”

  He followed his family up the stairs, looking back once as if to be sure she was really there.

  Cassandra couldn’t turn away until he’d walked out of sight. He was here. Just his presence filled a large part of the hollow she’d been feeling deep inside. She prayed his presence meant he’d made a decision regarding Lady Venetia. A decision that favored Cassandra.

  Hope was a foolish thing, she well knew. But it was a stubborn thing and refused to die.

  One of her new acquaintances, Miss Steele, came to her side. “Who was that delightful young man?”

  “Lord Spalding. I stayed with his family before finding my aunt.”

  “You must introduce me. I’m surprised you didn’t try to secure an understanding between you, at the very least. I’m certain I will be betrothed to him before I leave here. Mark my word.”

  Cassandra didn’t comment, either about Lady Venetia or her own feelings for Lord Spalding. Miss Steele seemed the competitive type, and didn’t need encouragement to seduce a man. There were enough handsome, wealthy, single gentlemen, some even titled, for Miss Steele to sink her claws into.

  She didn’t see Lord Spalding again until dinner. Aunt Wilhelmina had seated them together at the long dining table. Cassandra wondered if her aunt was aware of their fondness for each other, or if she wished to test the relationship as a potential matchmaking scheme.

  Agnes sat between two handsome young men, while Lady Matilda had older men on either side of her. She likely preferred their conversation to that Cassandra heard around the table.

  If she sat just right, her arm brushed against Spalding’s coat sleeve. The sensation gave her goose bumps. Could she be any more ridiculous? Merely the touch of his garment had her on edge.

  “How are you settling in?” Spalding asked.

  “Very well. My aunt treats me as though I’ve lived here always. I haven’t made any friends who are as dear to me as Agnes, but that will come in time.”

  “You and she began as best friends, as I recall.”

  “That’s true. It’s hard not to accept her friendship when she is so full of energy and joy.”

  He paused in lifting his soup spoon to his mouth. “You have joy about you, also. At first I thought it was gratitude for survival, but it continues. In fact, it has blossomed now that you are here.”

  “How can I not be happy? I am incredibly lucky to have such a home, and relations who care so much for me.”

  Spalding lowered his voice. “I’d hoped you were saddened the slightest bit at leaving me.”

  Cassandra closed her eyes and held her breath. She couldn’t breathe if she tried, her chest had tightened so. His nearness made it difficult enough to focus on her meal, but when he spoke in such sensual confidence, she was lost to the world.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s true. I had such mixed feelings about coming here. My only hope was to see you in Town next spring, on the chance you joined your sisters there for the Season. I never imagined Aunt Wilhelmina would invite you to join us here.”

  She stole a glance at her aunt, who smiled before speaking to the gentleman to her right.

  By the end of the meal, Cassandra couldn’t say what she’d eaten, or how much. She floated on a cloud, the conversations around her a distant buzzing. All of her aw
areness was on Lord Spalding.

  Uncle William wasn’t one to stand on having the ladies remove themselves from the dining room so that the men might smoke and enjoy their brandy. Instead, some of the guests went to the drawing room, while others went to the game room upstairs.

  Spalding held her back from the crowd on the staircase. “I want to speak to you alone.”

  “Our absence will be noted.”

  “With all the guests here, they’ll assume we’re in the other room.”

  “All right. There’s a private sitting room at the right of the landing.”

  He glanced around after opening that door making certain no one was watching, then followed her into the small, dark room. The only light came from a small window where the full moon streamed through. He drew her into the light, holding her arms as if to keep her from running away. “There aren’t enough words for what I’m feeling.”

  “I understand.” Her pulse raced. She prayed he’d kiss her. That he’d hold her the way he had and light a flame inside her. One day she’d insist he quench that flame, but tonight was probably not the safest time—or place—for that.

  He rested his forehead on hers. “I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”

  “What about Lady Venetia? I understood you were to marry her.”

  “I spoke to her even before I received your aunt’s invitation. She has no more feelings for me than I have for her. She seemed relieved when I brought up the subject.”

  “And your fathers?”

  “They agree that love is more important than tying our families together. The business will continue no matter who she and I marry.”

  A heavy weight lifted off Cassandra’s shoulders. “You have your father’s permission? I never hoped…”

  “You won’t be able to leave with me right away, but I spoke to your uncle already and he’s given us his blessing.”

  “You spoke to him before speaking to me?”