A Breath of Scandal: The Reckless Brides (18 page)

Cassie smiled and warmed to the topic. “He is tall and blond—” she whispered.

“He
called
for you,” Mama said in a tone that might as well have accused him of robbing the Bank of England.

“Oh.” Antigone did not have to feign her surprise. “Called? For me? How strange.”

“Is that all you can say? ‘Oh, how strange’?” Her mother’s gaze narrowed down to a single thin blade of suspicion.

“Yes, Mama.” In the face of such reproach—warranted or not—Antigone couldn’t seem to stop her voice from hardening with some show of sarcastic defiance. “What am I supposed to say? I hardly know the man—I just met him yesterday. What did he want?”

Her mother took a moment before she spoke. “He asked if he might take you walking.”

“Walking?” Now she was truly thoroughly surprised. And amused. How brilliant of him to think of something so prosaic and unobjectionable. Hope crept into her voice. “And did you consent? Are you here to tell me to prepare to go walking?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t play the fool.” Mama was as uncompromising as ever and twice as grim. “What would Lord Aldridge say were he to find out?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he would understand the importance of my being polite to Viscount Jeffrey’s brother.
For Cassandra’s sake.
Perhaps next time he visits, the commander will bring the right brother, and my purpose in trying to acquaint myself with him will be more apparent.”

“Oh. Oh!” Mama’s mood swung rapidly in the direction Antigone had hoped it would—approving rather than confrontational. “Did you speak to him of your sister?”

“I did not have to, Mama. She was there for all to see. Perhaps Viscount Jeffrey sent his brothers, like an advance reconnaissance party, to give their own opinions of Cassandra.”

Mama was seriously considering the unlikely possibility. Deep vertical lines of concentration pleated themselves between her brows. “But why should he ask for you, then, and not Cassandra?”

“I could not possibly know that answer.” Truly, Antigone had no idea what Jellicoe thought he was about. “Did you not ask
him
?”

“He said you were to dance with him at the ball, but did not have a chance. So I told him you weren’t
out
.”

Oh, good Lord, what a bouncer. She must be the only twenty-year-old woman in all of England who wasn’t
out.
It was beyond ridiculous. “So, I am not out. In fact, I am most certainly
in.
”

“And so you will remain.” Her mother’s answer was just as quick. “You don’t want Lord Aldridge catching a look at you looking like
that.
You are not fit for company. And certainly not if you hope to keep his lordship’s interest.”

She had no real desire to keep his lordship’s interest. It had been tempting to disobey her mother’s instruction to stay hidden when Lord Aldridge called, just so he might have seen the bruises that made her look like a losing prizefighter. If she had done so, her mother would now be at her lamenting the engagement’s end, and not for having had the temerity to meet Will Jellicoe. But she hadn’t.

Because if the previous three months had not provided adequate time for reflection on the topic of her spurious engagement, then both last night and this morning had given her a new perspective. As distasteful as the association with Lord Aldridge was, Antigone had to admit her mother was right—without the increased social opportunities provided by the engagement, their prospects, Cassie’s and hers, were bleak indeed. The prudence and wisdom of her mother’s scheme had now been proven—Commander Will Jellicoe, a man she could not have met had she not been engaged to Lord Aldridge, had come to call. And he had a brother who had admired her sister enough to dance with her.

If Cassie could find happiness, every trouble would have been worth it.

“Well, I hope you invited the commander to call again. With his other brother.” Antigone shook her head in feigned exasperation, turned her back, and took up her book, and waited for the door to slam shut.

Mama obliged by exiting with a loud, echoing flourish, but Cassandra stayed and found room for herself in the window seat next to Antigone.

“I liked him,” Cassie whispered and smiled, and a pang, bitter and ugly, lanced through Antigone’s carefully constructed show of indifference.

It was jealousy and selfishness, that pain. The selfishness of wanting to keep Will Jellicoe to herself before Cassandra’s beauty inevitably carried his heart away. “He’s not for you, Cassie. He’s only a second son. Mama would never allow it.”

“So … you do know him.” Cassie was looking at her in that gently probing way of hers, with her head tucked down, and her great lavender eyes looking up from under her perfectly arched brows.

“I met him briefly at Lady Barrington’s. Just as he said.”

Antigone was glad her sister didn’t press for any more of an explanation. To lie to Cassandra would be extremely distasteful—she and her sister had shared too much for subterfuge to be easy. But things had changed since Papa had died. Antigone no longer knew whom she could trust. And much as she would have liked someone in whom to confide, the less Cassie knew, the less she could be made to divulge to their mother.

“Then I … like him even … more, for your sake,” her sister insisted, with another quiet smile so beautiful it hurt to watch. If only her sister could smile that way when in company, she could have her pick of any man’s heart. “For having … met you only briefly, and still seeking you out. That shows attachment and … determination in his character. As well as good taste.”

Antigone tried not to respond, but it was nearly impossible. Because she agreed with Cassie. It did show something wonderfully determined in his character, didn’t it?

And then Cassie added in a quiet whisper, “And he is … rather handsome.”

“I suppose.” Antigone couldn’t keep a blank face. She felt her cheeks curve into a smile. “If you like that strong, tall, blond, oak-tree-of-a-man type.”

Cassie laughed in her quiet, near-silent way. “I think you like that tall oak-tree-of-a-man type.” She sighed and went on in her whispery voice. “You should have seen him in the drawing room. He looked so completely out of place, so … masculine, as if he would laugh, or just breathe, and the glass … mirrors and paintings would just come … crashing down from the walls.”

Such a visual image nearly undid her. Antigone had to work so very, very hard to resist the lure of confession. But as much as she loved Cassie, her sister was no good at keeping secrets. Or perhaps their mother was just particularly adept at ferreting those secrets out of her.

Antigone settled for wit in place of confidential intimacy. “He certainly made a much more favorable impression than Mr. Stubbs-Haye.”

“Oh, Annie.” Cassie’s face sobered. “You … poor thing. I … fear that wouldn’t be hard to do,” Cassandra observed quietly as she reached for Antigone’s hand.

Antigone smiled again, to allay her sister’s worries, if nothing else. “It only looks like he got the better of me, Cassie. He was the one hauled off by the footmen in the end. I think you ought to owe me a penny for that prediction.”

And it worked. Cassie smiled again. “I’m … glad something has put a smile on your face. You haven’t been yourself lately, Antigone.”

The instinct to guard herself, for their mutual protection, Jellicoe’s as well as Cassie’s, came back. “I miss Papa,” was all she would allow herself to say. That at least was very true.

“I do, too.” Cassandra let out a long, pent-up sigh. “Everything is so different now.”

And different not for the better. Still, their situation could not be changed by wishing. There was no going backward through time, no returning to the way it was. “It is different, but that does not mean we shall not prevail. So tell me, how did
you
get on after I made my disgraceful exit? You were dancing with Viscount Jeffrey? How did you find him?”

Cassie shrugged uncomfortably. “Oh, the … viscount was … very … nice. Everything … kind. The rest of the … night … went … passably. I … feel like I’ll … never remember all I’m supposed to do and say. I’m not like you. I get all … confused and then I stammer. And Mama gets so upset. Last night, she was … mouthing the … words I was supposed to say over some poor … man’s back.”

“Poor you. My darling Cassie.” Antigone squeezed her sister’s cold hand. “Don’t pay any attention to Mama and her machinations. You don’t have to remember anything. All you have to do is be courageous enough to be honest about what you think and what you feel. Be yourself, which is to say, be brave enough to share your true self with others. The man who loves your stammering is the one you should accept. And when you realize you are loved, your stammer will go away, just as it does when you are alone with me.”

“But what if … no one … loves me just the way I am?”

“Then we shall grow old and silly together, with each other for perfect company. The world will forget all about us, and we shall have a marvelous time making toasted cheese over the fire.”

“Oh, Antigone, I should like that above all things.”

“Then I shall make it so, dear sister. Never fear.”

Chapter Eleven

“James, how would you like to make Mama very happy, and do me a very large favor at the same time?” Will had found his brother in his shirtsleeves, lounging back in his shaving chair, awaiting his valet’s ministrations.

James tipped the hot towel off his face, and gave Will the kind of look a moneylender gives a potential client—meticulously appraising, and looking for leverage. “How large a favor?”

“Enormously large.” Will shored up at the doorpost, leaning his shoulder into it.

“What does the favor involve?”

“Being charming to a young lady for an afternoon. One afternoon, in my company. No more. After that, what you choose to do is your own business.”

“Who do I have to be charming to?”

“To
whom
do I have to be charming?” Will corrected. “Didn’t they teach you anything at Cambridge? One doesn’t end a sentence with a preposition.” He still loved to bait his older brother. It kept James from being insufferably superior.

James didn’t miss a beat. “Who am I meant to be charming to, you ass?” he growled, and threw the hot towel at Will’s head.

Will caught it with one hand, and gave his brother his best conspiratorial smile. “A very beautiful young woman.”

James’s valet came in with the shaving water, and James subsided back into his chair and closed his eyes. “How do I know she’s beautiful?”

“Because I have excellent taste.”

James opened one eye to peer at his brother while the valet soaped his face. “You disappeared from a very excellent, very tasteful evening last night.”

“My objection was not to the no doubt tasteful Mrs. Swan, nor her most assuredly excellent soiree. I’m just not used to being cooped up indoors so much. Which has no bearing on my appreciation of a very beautiful young woman.”

“And you want my help to get her.”

“Not exactly.” Will wanted to tell his brother as little of his plans as possible. Mostly because he was making those plans up as he went along. Necessity was certainly the mother of his invention. “This beautiful woman I have in mind is for
you,
not for me. She is simply a … diversion. A means to a different end. And she’s more to your taste than mine. With her, you may do as you like. Within gentlemanly bounds, of course.”

James took a long moment to weigh his options from behind the lather. “You’re not going to tell me who she is?”

“Miss Cassandra Preston. You danced with her at Barrington’s, if I recall.”

His brother let out a long, low whistle before he said, “I did. And what do I get for my trouble besides her company?”

“The pleasure of a beautiful young woman’s company is always its own reward. But to sweeten the pot, an unspecified boon from me, to be collected at a time of your choosing.”

“All for being polite to a girl for one afternoon?”

“Charming,” he clarified. “You will have to exert yourself considerably, as she is very shy. But yes. One afternoon, in public, on a outing arranged by me.” Will decided he needed to be very clear, especially in light of James’s affinity for
ladybirds,
however tasteful.

“An outing? And what do you get out of the deal?”

“Same as you. An afternoon of amusement. An enjoyable way to pass the time.”

“And an unspecified boon of
my
choosing? No matter your nonchalance, you must want something very badly.”

It was a touch galling to hear it stated so baldly, but it was the truth. “I find I do want something rather badly. I want to amuse myself while I’m here. I’m not used to so much inactivity.”

“If I agree,” James mused, “you’ll have to consent to grant me the unspecified boon right away.”

“Done.”

“And done. You have to cut your hair.”

Of all the things James could have required, Will never would have supposed his brother would waste his marker on his bloody hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s twenty years out of date, for one thing. Come, Will. I simply can’t have you going about with me looking like an old tar.” James talked around his valet’s careful razor. “It’s bad enough that you’re as tanned as a coffee bean. We’ve got to make you into some sort of a fashionable gentleman while you’re here. Winchell here can see to it.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.” James clearly had too much time on his hands. But then again, so did Will, if he was hatching plans, and going to such trouble to gain himself more time with Preston.

“Come on, Will. Don’t be such an old stick.” James sighed, before trying a more conciliatory approach. “Look, I know you feel redundant being put ashore, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t look like the successful captain-to-be you are. Winchell will have you all the crack in no time, and I’ll play the gallant as long as you like.”

Now his brother was offering his own boon to sweeten the pot. “You’ll ride in a carriage to the Cowdray Ruins, and back, and make polite, amusing conversation with Miss Preston, and Claire and Thomas as well the whole time? You’re not going to bemoan the possibility that Mrs. Preston will jump to the assumption that you’re wife hunting?”