by Stella Riley
Silence fell for a time as they both enjoyed the luxury in simply being together like this, able to touch and talk … or not. Presently, however, Sebastian said, ‘Lovely as this is, I suppose we should seek out your parents. I wouldn’t want them to think I’ve been taking unseemly advantage – particularly when I’ve crucified myself being good.’
Smiling, Cassie let him pull her to her feet.
‘I wouldn’t have minded if – if you’d lapsed a little.’
He groaned again. ‘That is just cruel. Come along, you wicked hussy.’
Since it had been expected, the only surprise their announcement caused was the warmth and pleasure of its reception. Charles shook Sebastian’s hand and welcomed him to the family while Serena hugged Cassie very hard, her eyes glistening with tears and said, ‘Oh my darling, I am so very happy for you. He is everything I hoped for – and everything you deserve. I don’t think I ever saw a man quite so hopelessly in love. It is most touching.’
When wine had been called for and toasts drunk, Charles said, ‘I shall send the appropriate notice to the Morning Chronicle immediately. Meanwhile, we should plan a betrothal celebration. What do you think, Serena?’
‘A ball,’ she replied promptly. ‘The ballroom in this house is only of moderate proportions but will hold forty or fifty couples comfortably. However, if you want a crush, Cassie --’
‘I don’t. Here, with family and our closest friends would be perfect.’ Tucking her hand into Sebastian’s, Cassie said, ‘Do you think we can persuade your father to come?’
‘He’ll come.’ It was Sir Charles who answered, his tone edged with implacability. ‘Lord Wingham and I have matters to discuss. So he’ll come if I have to go and fetch him myself. Now … how long will it take to arrange this ball?’
‘Could we do it within the week, Mama?’ begged Cassie.
‘A week?’ echoed Serena faintly. ‘Well … perhaps.’
‘Let me guess.’ Charles eyed Sebastian with sardonic resignation. ‘Banns on the next three Sundays and the wedding the week after, I suppose?’
Sebastian felt Cassie’s grip tighten. ‘Yes, sir. That was what we’d hoped.’
‘Wait!’ Serena stared at them. ‘A betrothal ball next week and the wedding in a month? Are the two of you completely addled?’
‘One of us is,’ agreed Sebastian, lifting Cassie’s hand to his lips. ‘The other is just grateful.’
Charles laughed. ‘You may as well give in, Rena. I daresay we’ll manage it somehow.’
‘Thank you.’ Sebastian stood up, looking down into his love’s flushed, excited face. ‘It’s a lovely day. Would you like to drive with me in the park?’
‘I am sure,’ said Serena before her daughter could answer, ‘that Cassie would love to drive with you, Sebastian. But since we have a betrothal ball and a wedding to organise in less than a month, we need to begin planning immediately.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘Don’t look so downcast. You will see each other this evening at the Ainsley assembly. But before you leave, we had better break the news to Olivia that Wicked Cousin Sebastian is about to become her brother. If we’re lucky, her guilty conscience over last night may prevent her saying anything untoward – but I wouldn’t like to count on it.’
* * *
Having survived his first encounter with his soon-to-be new sister, Mr Audley handed his card to the Duke of Rockliffe’s butler and after a short wait, was shown into the drawing-room where his Grace was walking back and forth by the windows holding a small bundle wrapped in a lacy white shawl while the duchess was engaged in pouring tea. Startled by the surprisingly domestic scene, Sebastian paused just inside the door and then, recollecting himself, said, ‘Forgive me. I’m intruding and some other time will do just as well.’
‘If you’d been intruding, Symonds would have told you we were not at home,’ murmured Rockliffe. The baby made a small gurgling sound which turned into a sort of hiccup so he offered her one of his fingers and smiled when her tiny fist closed around it. ‘Sit down and have some tea.’
Adeline sighed, shook her head and rose to greet their guest.
‘You’ll have to forgive Tracy,’ she said. ‘In due course, he’ll remember that you and I have never met but for now we’ll have to shift for ourselves. It’s Mr Audley, yes?’
‘Yes, your Grace.’ Sebastian smiled and bowed over her hand. ‘It’s a great pleasure to meet you at last. May I congratulate you on the birth of your daughter?’
‘By all means. It’s nice to have it acknowledged that I played some small part.’
Rockliffe glanced across at her. ‘That is unfair. I kiss your feet in gratitude daily … metaphorically speaking.’
‘Metaphorically? Is that what you call it?’ Then, catching Sebastian’s startled expression, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Audley. Am I embarrassing you?’
‘Not at all. I think any gentleman would count himself fortunate to be permitted to kiss your feet – metaphorically or in any other way.’
His words and the peal of laughter that followed them successfully commanded Rockliffe’s attention.
‘If you’re here to beg a favour, Audley, flirting with my wife under my nose is not a good start. Unless, of course, you are eager to test your sword against mine in earnest?’
Catching the gleam of mocking laughter, Sebastian grinned back and shook his head. ‘I’ll happily fence with you at Angelo’s. But if you were to call me out, I’d have the choice of weapons – and it wouldn’t be swords.’
‘Pistols? Really?’ Rockliffe heaved a pained sigh. ‘How disappointing.’
‘No, your Grace. Not pistols.’ Sebastian reached into his pocket, brought out an object some four inches high and held it out on the palm of his hand. ‘This.’
The Duke stretched out his arm to take the piece and look closely at it.
‘Dear me,’ he said softly. ‘That would certainly be novel.’
‘What is it?’ asked Adeline.
‘The Black King … from, if I am not mistaken, a particularly fine and very valuable Russian chess set.’ Sitting down, his baby daughter dozing contentedly in the crook of his arm, Rockliffe placed the piece on the table so that she could see it. Carved from dark, sullenly-gleaming obsidian, the King wore a gold crown and exquisitely detailed robes, encrusted with tiny, blood-red rubies. ‘Do you have the rest of the set?’
‘Yes. I … won it.’
His Grace’s brows rose. ‘And were allowed to leave Russia with it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ah.’ There was a long, meditative pause while Rockliffe studied the Black King. ‘Are you, by any chance, the current owner of the Casparov set?’
Sebastian smiled but said nothing.
‘Extraordinary,’ breathed Rockliffe.
Looking from one to the other of them, Adeline said, ‘Would either of you care to explain?’
‘May I?’ asked the Duke. And when Sebastian nodded, ‘It’s named after the man who made it – and allegedly gave it a life of its own. The Casparov supposedly chooses its owner – the last person who won a game whilst playing with it. Selling it, gifting it or, perish the thought, stealing it, calls down dire retribution. In recent years, it has reputedly been passed back and forth between just two people. And I would give a great deal to know which of them succeeded in losing it.’
‘So would quite a few other people,’ grinned Sebastian.
‘Is it true?’ asked Adeline. ‘About the curse, I mean?’
‘I doubt if anyone knows. But the Russians are a superstitious lot – even the most forward-looking of them. So having won it, I had to be allowed to keep it.’
‘Forgive my asking,’ murmured Rockliffe, ‘but do you always carry such a valuable piece around in your pocket?’
‘No. Only on days when I need some additional luck.’ Sebastian shrugged and said, ‘As for making the Game my weapon of choice … I’ve been challenged four times. The first time, I opted for pistols. I deloped and the other fellow shot me. So on the three subsequent occasions
, I chose chess. Two of those three gentlemen sneered and invited their friends to watch but both stopped laughing when I wiped them off the board in eight straight moves. The third took one look at that,’ he pointed to the King, ‘and withdrew his cartel. No one has challenged me since.’
Adeline eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Just how well do you play, Mr Audley?’
He smiled, looking faintly embarrassed. ‘Very well, your Grace. Were that not the case, the Casparov would still be in St Petersburg.’ And then, to Rockliffe, ‘You are welcome to see it at any time. But now I should come to the point and leave you to enjoy your tea. It was merely that I wanted your permission to consult Mr Osborne again.’
Rockliffe made a dismissive gesture.
‘By all means. But surely the editor of The Whisperer has not been stupid enough to repeat the offence?’
‘No. This is different. Miranda Silvarez has been arrested for abduction. And though her victim is safe and no harm was done, it might have been. But Miranda can’t be brought to court without her victim’s name being dragged in there with her. I believe Bow Street will dissuade her from further villainy but want to prepare additional measures in case they’re needed. An article in The Whisperer should be sufficient to leave her with little alternative but to quit London and I’d like Mr Osborne’s advice on suitable wording.’
Rockliffe nodded, frowning slightly. ‘Who did she abduct?’
‘Cassandra Delahaye.’
‘What?’ The duke and the duchess spoke more or less in unison.
‘As I said, no harm was done.’ And because he wanted so badly to shout it from the rooftops … because pride, wonder and sheer euphoria was still exploding inside his chest … Sebastian lifted his chin and said, ‘If you are wondering about my own involvement, I should perhaps mention that earlier this afternoon Cassandra did me the immense honour of accepting my hand in marriage.’
Inevitably, Rockliffe showed no surprise. He merely smiled slightly and said, ‘My congratulations.’
Adeline, on the other hand, clapped her hands and said, ‘Cassie? You’re going to marry Cassie?’ And when he nodded, grinning helplessly, ‘Oh, well done, Mr Audley. Well done indeed! At last – a gentleman with the wit to appreciate that lovely girl for what she is.’
‘Rest assured that I’m wholly aware of my good fortune, your Grace.’
‘That,’ she replied, laughing a little, ‘is completely apparent.’
Rockliffe rose and held out his hand. ‘We will send Cassandra our felicitations … and if you plan a bachelor party, I shall be pleased to attend. Meanwhile, since she is now safely asleep, you may wish to admire Lady Vanessa Jane.’
Still grinning, Sebastian gripped the offered hand and said, ‘Certainly. I thought you’d never ask.’
* * *
Back in Cork Street, Lord Sarre took one look at his friend’s face and also held out his hand. ‘Far be it from me to say I told you so …’
‘But you told me so.’ Sebastian dropped into a chair. ‘I don’t know whether I’m on my head or my heels – or that it was possible to be as happy as this. Did you write asking Caroline to come? I hope you did. Sir Charles and Lady Delahaye are to hold a ball next week to celebrate our betrothal and --’ He stood up again. ‘Oh God. I need a ring. How does one do that?’
‘One walks into a jeweller’s shop.’
‘I know that. But do I go and buy it myself or do I take Cassandra with me so that she can choose? What is the proper form?’
‘You’re asking the wrong person. I had the sense to elope with a wedding ring in my pocket but Caroline didn’t get a betrothal ring until we’d been married nearly a month. However, for what it’s worth, I chose a ring I felt suited her and it worked out well enough.’
‘Right. I’ll do it tomorrow. And flowers. I should have taken her flowers this afternoon, shouldn’t I? Damn. She’s going to the Ainsley party this evening. I could send a corsage. Where’s the nearest flower shop?’
‘Two streets away. Sebastian – just stop for a moment and calm down.’
‘I can’t. The reality of it is just beginning to hit me. The banns will be called for the first time on Sunday and in a month, we’ll be married but I don’t have a home to offer her. Charles said he’d help but that’s just bloody humiliating. Christ, Adrian – aside from writing to my father, what the hell am I going to do?’
‘You are going to buy some flowers; you and I are going to take an early dinner at Sinclairs while we talk; and then you are going to Ainsley House where you will stop worrying and dance with Cassie. Everything will work out all right. It generally does, you’ll find.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER TWENTY
Before leaving for Sinclairs, Sebastian sent an impassioned appeal to his father and, over dinner, Adrian offered financial assistance if all else failed. Later still, at the Ainsley ball, Sir Charles said that he had also written to Lord Wingham – threatening to descend on him in person if there was no response within the next three days. Since, for the time being at least, the matter was out of his hands, Sebastian danced twice with Cassie, took her in to supper … and spent the rest of the evening in the card room, thus creating a buzz of speculation which the gentlemen found amusing and many of the ladies, a potentially crushing disappointment.
On the following morning, notice of the Honourable Sebastian Audley’s betrothal to Mistress Cassandra Delahaye appeared in the Morning Chronicle and the Honourable Sebastian set off for Ludgate Hill to buy a betrothal ring for the light of his life. This proved to be a lot more difficult than he had anticipated. After spending the best part of two hours at Theed & Pickett with nearly every ring in the shop laid out before him, he had made up his mind six times, changed it just as often and had the sanity of young Mr Rundell, the junior partner, hanging by a thread. And then, just when he was beginning to despair he saw it. A beautifully faceted diamond solitaire set in twisted rose gold; understated, elegant and perfect. Sebastian left the shop with a sense of achievement and a spring in his step. Mr Rundell saw him off the premises with a sigh of relief.
Once again, Sebastian took his carriage to Conduit Street – this time determined not to take no for an answer. With their betrothal now both official and public, he couldn’t wait to put the ring on Cassandra’s finger and he wanted to do it away from the house and her family. Ideally, he’d have liked to have the day with her – at Richmond, perhaps, or Kew; but since the afternoon was likely to bring an avalanche of visitors, wishing to offer their felicitations, this clearly wasn’t an option. So he settled for Hyde Park – both glad and sorry that it was too early yet for the fashionable crush; glad because he wanted to be alone with her … and sorry because few people would see her sitting beside him looking utterly ravishing.
In a dusky pink carriage-dress and twirling a lacy parasol, Cassie positively glowed.
She said, ‘You’ve rescued me. Again.’
He glanced at her, smiling. ‘From what?’
‘From spending virtually the entire day writing invitations. The list of guests has got to seventy-four so far and is still growing. Meanwhile, Mama is busy organising flowers, an orchestra, the supper menu and probably a dozen other things as well.’ She tucked a hand through his arm and laughed up at him. ‘In short, she’s having a thoroughly splendid time.’
‘What about Olivia? Is she helping?’
‘Don’t be silly. In between getting in the way and badgering Mama about a new gown for the wedding, she’s penning gleeful letters to her friends in the happy expectation of making them green with envy.’
‘And you, Cassandra? Are you happy?’
‘Do you really need to ask? I feel as if I’m floating on air.’
‘I’d better keep a firm hold, then – so that you don’t float away entirely.’
‘Yes.’ Her colour rose a little but she said earnestly, ‘You should definitely do that – if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Minx.’ Sebastian turned the horses into t
he park and set them on the main carriage-way. Away towards the Serpentine, nursemaids watched small children playing with balls and spinning tops. ‘Am I rushing you, love? If I am … if you’d like time to enjoy our betrothal and shop for your bride-clothes, you must tell me. I’ll wait if it’s what you’d prefer. And I won’t mind.’
‘Not at all?’
‘Well, perhaps a bit. But not enough to spoil this for you. If you want our betrothal ball next week and a wedding in three months’ time --’
‘I don’t. I want to marry you and I don’t want to waste three months waiting to do it. And before you ask – yes. I’m quite sure.’
Her words and the way her fingers tightened possessively on his arm had the curious effect of making him feel ten feet tall whilst simultaneously turning his brain soft. He said, ‘I love you, you know. And I want very much to make you happy.’
‘You make me happy by just walking into the same room and even happier when you smile or take my hand. I have no doubts, Sebastian. None.’
That brought an ache to his chest.
‘Has your father said anything about the situation with mine?’
‘No. I presume they have to discuss money and settlements – things I don’t care about at all and that I am quite sure they’ll resolve.’ She paused. ‘But I do hope your father will come to the ball. He must want to meet me, mustn’t he?’
‘He’ll love you. How could he not?’
She didn’t observe, as she might have done, that this wasn’t an answer. Instead, she noticed that they had left the main thoroughfare for a narrower track amongst the trees and was happily aware that Sebastian was seeking privacy.
He drew the carriage to a halt, twisted the reins about the bar and, despite the sudden churning of his nerves, turned to smile at her, saying, ‘I have something for you.’
‘You do?’
‘Mm.’ Pulling off his gloves and relieving her of the parasol, he began slowly unbuttoning the glove on her left hand. ‘There will be callers later today, I imagine. Should I be in attendance?’