Miss Cresswell's London Triumph (19 page)

"Why Ned, a present... for me." Cassie looked so eager in her anticipation that he was touched. Ned had presented far more expensive-looking boxes embossed with the names of famous jewelers to far less effect than this simple packet done up in plain brown paper and string.

"Well, I just saw it and thought you might find it inspiring," he replied offhandedly.

She tore off the paper to reveal the works of Epictetus translated by Elizabeth Carter.

"Do not for a moment think that I doubt your ability in the least to read it in the original, Cassie. I just thought you would like to see that women such as you are taken seriously and that they can succeed at their endeavors. And I believe that this represents the second printing."

Cassie was greatly touched. "Ned, how very kind you are. I can't wait to read it. And thank you for, for ..." She fumbled for the words to express how much it meant to her for someone to have faith in her abilities and to treat her as one would treat any scholar with aspirations.

Living as she had in such a talented household, Cassie had never been fully aware how little respect she could command outside it—even from those who comprehended and applauded her interests—simply because she was a woman. She had resigned herself to being misunderstood and labeled "blue" by the rest of the world, but having no social aspirations, she had not been bothered greatly by it. She had, however, expected to be taken seriously by those who could appreciate her scholarship. Horace's attitude had dealt her a severe blow and she was just now realizing how much it had hurt her. This demonstration of support expressed by such an appropriate gesture and from someone who was truly capable of appreciating and judging her abilities meant more to Cassie than she was able to express. She blinked rapidly as she extended her hand, trying to find some way to articulate her gratitude. "I wish, I wish you could know how much this means to me, but..." Her voice cracked and she found she could not go on. Ned raised a mobile eyebrow. "What? Cassandra Cresswell at a loss for words? Things have come to a pretty pass," he teased. "Don't refine on it too much. I just thought you could use an example of feminine scholarship right now. But that's not the entire purpose of my visit. I also came to inform you that there is to be a balloon ascension next Tuesday and I thought you, Teddy, Freddie, and I might enjoy going. If it's a very fine day, we could make a picnic of it." "What a lark! I should like it of all things and so would Teddy! Cassie exclaimed. He s been teasing Freddie and me to take him ever since Freddie read the announcement of the ascension and the exhibition in the Times. I've only been to one balloon ascension when I was quite small and couldn't see a thing because the crowd kept pushing so. A nice man put Freddie up on his shoulders so he was able to describe it to me, but that's not the same thing at all."

"That's set, then. You ask the others and well hope for a good weather. Now, I must be on my way as Canning has asked me to call on him." Ned added this last bit in as offhand a manner as possible, but it was with great difficulty that he kept the pride out of his voice.

Cassie lit up immediately. "Oh Ned, how perfectly splendid!" she cried. "However did that come about? I am so proud of you."

Ned recounted his discussion with Lord Charlton at Brooks's. Good as his word. Lord Charlton had spoken to Canning about Ned. The statesman had been intrigued by Ned's background and experiences and had very graciously invited him to call on him.

"That's wonderful beyond anything! You are certain to impress him with your views on conditions in India. Not only have you been there and worked with the system, such as it is, but you have reflected seriously on it and have devised your own particular plan for what should be done to improve things. Everyone declares him to be rather temperamental, but I believe that it's because he refuses to suffer fools gladly. You are quick and clever and, I should think, would be just the sort to appeal to him. I heard him speak in Parliament and I must say that I thought him brilliant, though his sarcasm, amusing though it is, must make him many enemies. Do please come tell me everything afterward."

Ned smiled at her exuberance, as he demurred modestly. "You are prejudiced in my favor. I should take you along as my advocate. How could he fail to think I am a coming man after hearing you on the subject? However, with you espousing me, I shouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise." His tone was teasing, but secretly he was pleased and touched by her support and her unbounded faith in his abilities. Cassie better than anyone comprehended his ideas and understood his political aspirations. Her opinion was more important to him than anyone else's, as she could best appreciate what it meant to him to have these ideas recognized by such men as Lord Charlton and his peers.

Cassie's enthusiastic reaction, her happiness at his recognition, and her passionate support were all he had hoped for and he headed off to Canning's chambers in Stanhope Street buoyed up by the knowledge that she would be thinking of him.

Ned was not able to share the details of his visit to the foreign secretary until the next evening when he joined Cassie, Frances, and Julian in the Mainwarings' box at the opera. Frances had for some time expressed a wish to see Rossini's Otello, particularly as the composer was conducting his own work. Her husband had ruthlessly turned down several important invitations from his political cronies in order to spend a peaceful, enjoyable evening in the company of his family and free from the brilliant government circles in which they ordinarily moved. Knowing that Ned was also very fond of Rossini, Frances had urged him to join them.

Her motives were not entirely unselfish. Ever since the ball she had noticed a change in her sister. Cassie seemed restless and disinclined to fix her interest on anything for any length of time —an unusual state of affairs for one who often had to be pried loose from the library to attend meals. At the same time Frances was aware that Cassie had ceased her regular visits to Hanover Square. This unusual circumstance coupled with the notable absence of Horace Wilbraham led her to suspect that the friendship had ended, but being the good sister that she was. Frances would have died rather than mention this state of affairs to her sister.

She was indebted at last to her maid Daisy, Rose's eldest sister, for her enlightenment. Daisy, having been with Frances since both were barely more than twelve, was not one to stand on ceremony. "And though I am sad to see Miss Cassie lose any admirer, mark my words, she's better off without that Horace Wilbraham. Can't hold a candle to her, he can't, and he's always bragging about his learning. Pooh! Why Miss Cassie could run circles around him. Learning! That's his excuse for being such a dead bore. Miss Cassie's well rid of him, I say. Why he was such a dullard he was making Miss Cassie into one, too. Not many a man could bear to have a companion who is gayer and wittier than he is. For all his mealy-mouthed ways he's as selfish as he can stare. Anyone can see he must always have the first consideration. As I see it, Miss Cassie needs someone who can keep up with her, someone who is a true out-and-outer."

Aware that Daisy s sources of information were impeccable, Frances didn t question her knowledge but acted accordingly to ensure that Cassie would have some sort of escort even if it were a person she'd known since she'd been in pinafores.

There had been no time for discussion before the opera, but at the close of the first act Cassie turned to Ned. "Do tell me what transpired with Canning, I've been bursting to know. What did you talk about? Were you able to tell him any of your notions for improving trade?"

Ned held up a well-shaped hand to stem this impetuous outburst. "Hold on, my girl. One question at a time. Yes, we did discuss my ideas. And I must say we dealt excellently with each other. We both agree that we must work to improve our colonial trade and direct our policies toward strengthening the Colonies, even if that means modifying our Navigation Acts and freeing England from the Holy Alliance. We have involved ourselves too long in the affairs of Europe to the detriment of our mercantile interests in other corners of the globe, and now something must be done about it."

Cassie nodded. "And what with Napoleon no longer on the Continent to cause wars and require armies and supplies, we need other markets for our merchants to supply."

"Just so," Ned replied, reflecting on what a refreshing change it was to be able to relate his ideas to someone who grasped them and responded, instead of treating him to a bored pout or changing the subject immediately to something that forced his attention to revert solely to his charming companion.

Suddenly he was forced to do just that as Frances interrupted to point out that his attention was being demanded by just such a charmer. "Isn't that Arabella beckoning to you?"

Sighing inwardly, Ned glanced over to the box opposite, where Arabella, resplendent in diamonds and a revealing decolletage, was beckoning purposefully to him. Her attire was in fact a trifle daring for a young unmarried woman, but Arabella, who had detected a lessening in Ned's attentiveness, had not cared. Inquiries from her maid, who had grown up with Rose and continued the friendship in Town, had revealed that the Mainwarings were planning to attend the opera that evening, and the beauty had bullied her parents, neither of whom could bear opera, into taking her. She was confident that her bright poppy-colored muslin gown with sprigs of gold and ornamented with gold lace was certain to make anything Cassie wore seem pale and insipid by
comparison. She was also certain that no young woman in her first Season would dare expose such a creamy expanse of beautifully rounded bosom and shoulders as she was now displaying to the delight of the besotted young men who hovered around her. Secure in the knowledge that she was in her best looks and drawing appreciative stares from all over the theater, she positively glowed.

Attired perfectly correctly in a white gros de Naples round dress which was becoming enough but certainly not distinctive, Cassie breathed a wistful sigh. As long as she was well groomed and wearing something that was not noticeably out of fashion, she ordinarily discounted her appearance as unimportant, but for once she longed to be more than acceptable; she wished she was dazzling. Not that she wouldn't have been heartily bored by the insipid conversation of men such as those surrounding Arabella, but she did for a moment wonder what it would be like to be so fatally attractive, so confident of one's beauty and power to be admired for it. She had been acquainted with Arabella all her life and knew that her intellect was not strong, nor was her conversation particularly witty and charming. It seemed dreadfully unfair that something as simple as big dark eyes, dimples, dusky curls, and a voluptuous figure could command the total attention of so very many gentlemen. And just once she wished she could change places with her. But only for a moment, she said to herself. I should be bored silly within the hour.

Ned, who had responded to Arabella's summons with a slight nod and was debating whether or not he could ignore her obvious wish for him to join the devoted little group of admirers, caught Cassie looking at her. Her expressive face revealed a good deal of what was going on in her mind, and Ned was both amused and touched by it—amused that his feisty little playmate, who had never spoken of fashionable women who devoted themselves to their appearances except in tones of deepest scorn, should now look so thoughtful at the sight of someone who thought of nothing else, and touched by the wistfulness of that look. The irony of it was that though Arabella cultivated every art to attract while Cassie remained largely oblivious to such guile, Cassie's natural liveliness, her genuine interest in those to whom she was speaking, combined with the wit and intelligence of her conversation made her far more appealing to all but the most superficial of the ton.

An urgent desire to rally to Cassie s defense and honor her qualities made him decide to ignore Arabella's summons. He turned instead to his companion, inquiring, "Did you read the account of the subscription to help the Greeks in the Times last week?"

Cassie's eyes sparkled. "Yes, I did. And I'm glad that someone is at last doing something for those poor people. How anyone can say that they are as barbaric as the Turks I simply cannot comprehend. What could be more uncivilized than storing ammunition in one of the greatest artistic feats of mankind? I only thank heaven that Lord Elgin, Papa and Mama, and the Comte de Vaudron were able to save as much of the Parthenon as they did. It's a dreadful shame that the marbles had to be taken from their proper place and the nation that created them, but if it inspires people who would otherwise never have the opportunity to see and appreciate the monuments from classical antiquity, then I am all for it. And you must admit that the decorative arts in general have improved because of this very appreciation."

"Gently, my girl," Ned teased. "Don't get on your high ropes with me. I am as devoted as anyone to the Greeks, past and present. I was merely curious to know if you were aware that at long last a movement is afoot to—"

But whatever the movement was to accomplish was lost as the door to the box opened. There was a rustle of skirts, a breath of seductive perfume, and then Arabella broke in gaily, "How delightful to see you!" Her dazzling, but perfunctory smile included the entire company; however, the languorous look accompanying it was directed to Ned alone. Unwilling to brook Ned's ignoring of her invitation, Arabella had been overjoyed when Sir Brian Brandon had appeared in her box, for she could hardly visit the Mainwarings' box alone and Sir Brian was the perfect escort to rouse envy in the breast of any female and dismay in any male's. Let Ned see that she was sought after by the very pinks of the ton. That would put him on his mettle!