The Scandal Of The Season. Annie Burrows
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what, on a less beautiful woman, would have been called a sneer.
This statement only served to puzzle Cassandra even further. For one thing, the Duke to whom her godmother had been married had died several years ago. For another…
‘Oh, my dear, how perplexed you look,’ said the Duchess of Theakstone, with a challenging sort of smile. ‘As though you never expected me to lift as much as a finger.’
‘Ah…’ Well, no, she hadn’t. But the Duchess was making it sound as though somehow that view offended her.
‘Well, no,’ stammered Cassandra, ‘I would never have presumed so far. How could I, when not even my own mother was prepared to acknowledge me after I committed my Fatal Error? But it wasn’t only that…’
‘Oh? Then what was it, precisely?’ asked the Duchess, rather frostily.
‘Only that you don’t look…that is… I suppose that my mother must be considerably older than you. Well, she looked older than you last time I saw her, which was more than half-a-dozen years ago. So I don’t see how you could have been such friends.’
‘Oh, my dear, how clever of you to say just the right thing,’ she crowed with delight. ‘I am sure we are going to get along famously,’ she said, untying and removing her bonnet to reveal a mass of gleaming golden curls, not one of which had been flattened by the cleverly constructed confection.
Aunt Eunice sprang forward to take the exquisite bonnet before either of the footmen could crush it in their meaty great paws, and carried it reverently over to a hatstand, currently occupied only by a swathe of sprig muslin.
‘Thank you,’ said the Duchess. ‘Not only for taking such great care of my hat, but also of my goddaughter. I am so glad she found a safe haven with two such compassionate ladies.’ She looked at each aunt in turn and then at Cassandra in a way that somehow made her aware that she hadn’t effected a proper introduction.
‘This is my Aunt Cordelia,’ she said. ‘Er… Miss Bramstock, I should have said,’ she added, blushing.
‘Ah, so you are the one who caused such a stir by spurning Hendon’s offer and running off to set up home with your schoolfriend,’ said the Duchess, before turning to examine Aunt Eunice, who lifted her chin to stare back with some belligerence.
‘And this is, well, I call her Aunt Eunice,’ Cassandra said, hoping that this was not going to turn into the sort of confrontation that would send her godmother flouncing out in a huff.
‘Because you are so fond of her,’ the Duchess concluded for her. ‘Which is not surprising, when she has clearly done far more for you than any of your blood relations.’
Aunt Eunice subsided at once, murmuring her thanks and protesting that it was nothing.
‘Is there somewhere that my boys,’ said the Duchess, waving a hand at the two enormous footmen, ‘may take refreshments?’
‘Of course,’ said Aunt Cordelia with a touch of chagrin at the reminder she was forgetting her duties as a hostess. Once she’d sent ‘the boys’ off to the kitchen with a message for Betty to not only look after them, but also to bring tea and cake to the parlour for their guest, Cassandra and both her aunts took to their chairs and gazed at their visitor in an expectant silence.
‘Now that we are alone,’ said the Duchess, ‘we may get to the point. As I said, I am sure nobody could deny that you ladies have done my goddaughter a sterling service, up to this point. But now she needs someone with social standing to bring her out, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Bring me out? That is not possible. Not when I am ruined. Socially, that is, if not in fact. For I’m sure that Stepfather must have made everyone aware he would not let me set foot in his house when I went back to try to explain…’
‘Yes. And that he cut you off without a penny to your name, as though it was something to be proud of,’ put in the Duchess grimly.
‘Yes. And I don’t suppose even my mother has ever said one word in my defence…’
‘The poor creature was so browbeaten by that bully she married I don’t suppose she dared,’ said the Duchess.
‘No, she wouldn’t,’ said Cassandra, marvelling at how clearly the Duchess saw what had happened back then. She wondered if perhaps her mother had written to her, explaining, and asking her to help her only daughter… No, no, that couldn’t be it. Stepfather would never allow any kind of missive to leave the house without scrutinising it carefully.
‘But if I,’ continued the Duchess, ‘were to spread a rumour that it was all a plot he made up to swindle you out of your inheritance, plenty of people would be ready to believe it nowadays. Because, let me tell you, my dears, since the time he turned you out of doors he has shown his true colours often enough that he is generally held in aversion.’
‘But, Your Grace, that is not true! I mean, yes, I’m sure he did leap at the chance to get his hands on what money should have come to me, because he is that sort of man. But he didn’t have to make up any scandal about me. I did run away with a soldier, you know, and I did return home unmarried…’
The Duchess held up her hand to stop her saying anything further. ‘I am glad that you are being so frank with me. But you cannot restore your reputation if you go round blurting out the truth to all and sundry.’
Cassandra’s heart gave a little lurch. Could it be possible? Could she really slough off the cloud of disgrace she could always feel hanging over her head, even when everyone was polite to her face these days? Could she find a place in polite society again? Become respectable once more?
But at what cost? ‘I won’t tell lies to try to persuade people I am something I am not,’ she said firmly.
‘There will be no need,’ said the Duchess after a pause. ‘From what you have just said, it sounds as if your so-called scandal was little more than a brief escapade, which could have been brushed over if your mother had not married such a monster.’
‘Well, yes, but…’ she clasped her hands at her waist as another barrier to the Duchess’s scheme sprang to mind ‘…am I not too old to make a come-out?’
‘Not at all. You cannot be more than twenty years of age?’
‘I am three and twenty.’
‘You look much younger. Besides, there are plenty of men who do not want a bride right out of the schoolroom. Someone more mature, with a bit of sense. And you are so pretty that I am sure there will be someone who is willing to overlook all that other business,’ she said, waving her hand to dismiss Cassandra’s Fatal Error as though it was no more than a bothersome fly.
‘But… I’m not at all sure I wish to marry,’ said Cassandra with a guilty look at her aunts, whose views on marriage she had begun to absorb. ‘I am very happy here.’
‘I am sure you are,’ said the Duchess soothingly. ‘And if you don’t find a husband and wish to come back here after your Season, why, of course you may. But there’s more to having a Season than catching a husband. There are all the balls and parties, and picnics and shopping, and visiting the theatre, and galleries and exhibitions. I vow and declare you deserve to enjoy all that has been so long denied you—through, I’m sure, no fault of your own.’
‘That’s true, Cassandra,’ said Aunt Cordelia. ‘And even though we both turned our backs on society, at least we had the luxury of choosing to do so.’
‘You see?’ The Duchess turned to Cassandra with a smile of triumph. ‘Your aunts would love you to be able to find a husband, if that would make you happy, even if it wasn’t for them,’ she declared with a candour that was slightly shocking.
‘And even if your experiences have put you off men altogether, that is no reason not to come to London with me. Wouldn’t you like to go to balls and see the sights, Cassy darling?’
Cassy