A Mother's Secret (29 page)

‘And you don’t look in the least like a bluestocking, Miss Charlotte.’ Bailey bowed from the waist. ‘It’s a pity those medical students won’t be at the ball to see you in your finery.’

‘Who knows,’ Cassy said, tucking her hand into his arm. ‘They might be there and you’ll knock them sky-wise and crooked, Lottie.’

‘Such vulgar parlance, Miss . . .’ Oliver stopped short, turning to give Belinda a questioning glance. ‘If it’s a formal do we’ll have to be announced and I don’t know Cassy’s surname.’

‘She used to say she was Cassy Moon when we were nippers,’ Bailey muttered, glaring at Oliver. ‘And I knew her long before you did.’

Cassy’s smile faded. It was a question that had bothered her for a long time and one which she could never quite put out of her mind. She looked to Belinda for an answer, but her mother’s expressive face was shuttered, as if a door had closed on her soul. ‘Perhaps it would be easier to use Davenport, for now,’ she suggested vaguely. ‘We are a family, are we not?’

‘Of course we are,’ Cassy said before Oliver had a chance to comment. She sensed that there was something deeper behind her mother’s casual words, but this was neither the time nor the place to pursue the matter. ‘Davenport it is then. Even you should remember that, Ollie, unless you forget your own name.’

Oliver set his shako on his head, proffering his arm to Lottie. ‘There have been times when I’ve been celebrating a little too heartily that I couldn’t remember who I was, but tonight won’t be one of them. Shall we go, ladies? Our carriage is outside and no doubt the cabby will be adding the waiting time onto the fare.’

Cassy was about to follow them but Bailey caught her by the wrist. ‘Wait a moment, Cass. I’ve got something for you.’ He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a small package wrapped in brown paper. ‘I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but I’d rather you opened it now.’ He laid it in her upturned palm. ‘Happy birthday, Cassy.’

She caught her breath as she peeled back the paper to reveal a silver locket on a wisp of a chain. ‘Oh, Bailey, it’s beautiful. It’s the best present I ever had. Thank you so much.’ She stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Will you fasten it for me, please? I’m so excited, I’m all fingers and thumbs.’

The journey to the Guildhall passed quickly enough in the confines of the hackney carriage with Oliver and Bailey vying with each other to determine which one could be the most amusing. Cassy could feel excitement bubbling up inside her like a mountain spring as she sat beside Bailey, nervously clutching his hand as she had done when they were children and they were faced with a difficult situation. What if she were to trip over the long skirts of her borrowed gown? What if she said the wrong thing to one of the eminent personages present? What if they saw through the thin veneer of manners and fine clothes and saw the girl who had been raised in Three Herring Court? She might be Lady Davenport’s daughter, but when all was said and done she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, and of mixed blood. Would the great and the good turn their backs on her? She squeezed Bailey’s fingers and he turned his head to give her an encouraging smile. Dear Bailey, she thought, my loving brother. What would I do without you?

‘We’re here,’ Oliver said, opening the window and leaning out. ‘Just look at that, girls. They’ve laid the red carpet out for us.’ He leapt out, barely giving the cabby time to draw his horses to a halt, and he handed Lottie out and then Cassy. He turned to Bailey as he stepped down onto the pavement. ‘Pay the cabby, Moon.’

With Cassy on one arm and Lottie on the other, Oliver led them into the Guildhall while Bailey settled with the cabby. Cassy smothered a gasp of surprise and awe. Never in her life had she seen anything as grand or as imposing as the Great Hall with its Gothic arched roof and stained-glass windows. The huge room seemed like a cathedral to Cassy’s inexperienced eyes, and it was packed with elegantly dressed couples standing in groups, conversing sociably. The hum of voices rose to echo off the high ceiling and in the background there was the sound of the orchestra tuning up. The air was heavy with the mixed scents of hothouse flowers and expensive perfume, with the occasional waft of champagne cup laced with out-of-season strawberries.

She glanced up at Oliver but he was scanning the faces in the crowd. He raised his hand and waved. ‘Peters, you old dog,’ he said cheerfully as a young officer wove his way between the couples to join them. ‘We made it after all.’

‘So you did, Davenport, and you brought two charming companions, I see.’

‘Ladies, may I present Captain Horatio Peters of the 13th Hussars,’ Oliver said with a degree of formality. ‘Peter, this is my sister Cassy and her friend, Miss Charlotte Solomon.’

‘How do you, Miss Davenport, Miss Solomon?’ Captain Peters bowed from the waist. ‘It’s Horry, if you please. Horatio might have been a suitable name for our great hero, but I am not he.’

Cassy liked the way his eyes twinkled and the humorous quirk of his lips when he smiled. She giggled, but receiving a frown from Ollie she lowered her gaze and bobbed a curtsey. ‘How do you do, Captain Horry?’

‘Just Horry, Miss Davenport.’

His undeniable good looks and easy charm made Cassy feel quite light-headed, but she was determined to be on her best behaviour. ‘And this is Lottie,’ she said, giving Lottie a gentle nudge so that she had no choice but to step forward.

‘How do you do?’ Lottie blushed as Captain Peters raised her hand to his lips.

‘I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Lottie.’

‘Enough of this nonsense,’ Oliver said impatiently. ‘I could do with a drink and a cigar. Moon, look after the ladies while Peters and I go in search of refreshment.’

‘Where are you manners, Davenport?’ Captain Peters demanded as the orchestra struck up the grand march. ‘May I have the pleasure of the first dance, Cassy?’

Bailey moved to her side and she met his questioning look with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m quite capable of looking after myself.’ She allowed Peters to lead her onto the dance floor, and after a few false steps she began to relax. The grand march gave way to a gavotte and Peters showed no sign of wanting to relinquish his partner, and Cassy was beginning to enjoy herself. She was glad that she had paid attention to the rather boring dancing lessons in Miss North’s academy, when the girls had to partner each other and Miss North’s aged mother accompanied them, playing the pianoforte as if she had two left hands.

Oliver had been whirling Lottie round the floor with more energy than expertise, and as the dance ended the two couples made their way back to their table where Bailey had glasses of champagne cup waiting for them. As Peters held out Cassy’s chair and thanked her for being a perfect partner, Bailey eyed him askance, but if he had any criticisms of his superior officer he kept them to himself. Cassy sipped her drink slowly, savouring every moment of this new and wonderful experience. She gazed in awe at the beautiful gowns worn by ladies who in ordinary circumstances might be described as plump, overly thin or even plain, but they all looked beautiful in their silks and satins with their jewels sparkling in the candlelight. The men were equally resplendent either in full dress uniform or severe black evening suits and crisply starched shirtfronts.

‘Who is that?’ Cassy whispered, nudging Ollie and pointing her fan in the direction of a man who had just entered the Great Hall. He was surrounded by people but there was something about him that made his presence notable.

‘I don’t know,’ Oliver said casually. ‘Never seen the fellow before. Who is it, Peters? You’re the one who’s into all this charity business.’

‘That, Davenport, is the chap who started this particular charity. He bought a near derelict mansion in Stepney Green, and converted it into a home for badly injured soldiers who have no one to care for them.’

‘A laudable deed,’ Ollie said, serious for once. ‘I’ve seen fellows survive with hideous wounds, but little prospect at home other than to sit on the streets and beg. I’d like to shake his hand. What’s his name?’

‘Captain Cade. I’ve only met him once before, but the pater is keen on supporting charities. He’d be here tonight but he’s otherwise engaged.’ Peters rose to his feet. ‘May I get you another glass of champagne, ladies?’

Cassy shook her head. The bubbles had already gone to her head and she was feeling pleasantly muzzy. ‘No, thank you, Horry.’

Lottie smiled and nodded. ‘I’d like another glass, if you please.’

‘A girl after my own heart.’ Peters gave her a mock salute. ‘I’m going to get something a bit stronger for myself. What about you, Davenport?’

Oliver pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘I’ll give you a hand, old boy. Moon will look after the girls.’ He followed Peters, disappearing into the crowd.

‘I’d like to meet Captain Cade,’ Cassy said thoughtfully. ‘I think he’s done a splendid thing.’

‘It looks as though he’s been in the wars himself,’ Lottie murmured. ‘Look, Cassy, see how badly he limps and that terrible scar all down the left side of his face. Poor man, no wonder he feels for the wounded soldiers.’ She turned to Bailey, who had been unusually silent. ‘What do you think, Bailey? What would cause such an awful injury?’

‘He might have been caught in the blast from a grenade, or it could have been hand-to-hand fighting. Cade must have seen active service. You don’t get injuries like that from duelling.’

‘Which is illegal anyway,’ Cassy said, staring at the tall figure of Captain Cade. Despite his scars he was a handsome man who commanded attention. His hair was dark, almost black, with silver wings at his temples, and as he turned his head to speak to one of his companions Cassy could see the extent of his disfigurement. His eyes rested upon her for a brief moment, and she felt herself blushing. She looked away but she could not resist taking another peek at him, and she could have sworn that there was a smile lingering in his dark, almond-shaped eyes.

‘I think he likes you,’ Lottie whispered, nudging Cassy in the ribs. ‘Be careful. My pa has warned me about older men liking young girls.’

Bailey slipped his arm around Cassy’s shoulders. ‘I’ll see him off, Cass. You don’t have to worry about old roués while I’m around.’

‘He’s coming this way,’ Lottie said, her voice shaking with excitement. ‘How thrilling. We’re going to meet the great man. I’ve heard all about his work at the hospital.’

Bailey leapt to his feet, standing to attention as Cade approached them. His limp was pronounced and he walked with the aid of an ebony cane. He stopped at their table. ‘At ease,’ he said with a lopsided smile which made him look suddenly younger and more approachable. ‘Good evening, ladies. I hope you are enjoying yourselves, although you seem to have been temporarily deserted.’

Cassy angled her head, staring at him in fascination. He must, she thought, have been an extremely handsome man before the injury that had left a livid white scar standing out against his olive skin. She experienced a sharp pang of sympathy and an overwhelming sense of fellowship. She knew better than most how hard it was to be just that bit different from everyone else. Her days of torment in school were gone but not quite forgotten. She smiled up at him as he turned to her with a question in his eyes. ‘I’m having a lovely time, and I think your charity is doing wonderful work. If I had any money I would willingly give it to you.’

He threw back his head and laughed, causing a ripple of interest amongst the people nearest to them. There was a hush as they waited for him to reply, and it was only then that Cassy realised she was talking to someone highly respected and of considerable importance.

‘May I know your name?’ Cade asked. ‘I don’t recall seeing you at any of our previous functions.’

Bailey laid his hand on Cassy’s shoulder, but she met his anxious gaze with a slight shake of her head. She was not afraid of Captain Cade. ‘My name is Cassandra Davenport, and this is my friend Charlotte Solomon, and my very dear friend and brother, Bailey Moon.’

‘Corporal Moon, sir,’ Bailey said, snapping to attention and saluting.

‘As I said before, at ease, Corporal. You’re not on duty now.’ Cade extended his hand. ‘So you’re Miss Davenport’s brother?’

Shyly, Bailey shook his hand. ‘Not exactly, sir. But we grew up together and I’ve always tried to look after Cassy.’

‘I’m sure you do very well on that score.’ Cade inclined his head. ‘It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Miss Davenport, and to you, Miss Solomon. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.’ He was about to walk away, but he hesitated, turning back to give Cassy a long look. ‘If you are genuinely interested in my work, I would be delighted to show you round the institution, and you also, Miss Solomon. The men are always cheered by the sight of a pretty face.’ He walked away and was instantly claimed by a group of people patently eager for his attention.

‘What a charming man,’ Lottie breathed, clasping her hands to her bosom. ‘I would love to work for someone like him if I ever qualify as a doctor.’

‘He’s a bit too charming for my liking,’ Bailey muttered. ‘I don’t trust him and I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, Cass.’

‘Don’t be silly, it wasn’t like that.’ Cassy had spoken more sharply than she intended, and she could see by the stubborn set of Bailey’s jaw and the small nerve twitching at the edge of his lips that he was going to argue. ‘If you say another word I won’t speak to you for the rest of the evening, Bailey Moon.’