The Scandal of the Season

by Annie Burrows

  Cassy felt a weight lift from her mind. She’d been wondering how Frederick was going to survive. She’d wondered if her method of escape had been used as a cautionary tale to frighten him into submission, or whether it had made her stepfather act in some other way to increase his iron grip on her mother and brother.

  But Frederick was clearly going to do far better than she, if their uncle had stepped in.

  ‘And, of course,’ Godmama continued, ‘when Lady Bradbury reminded him that you have been living in straitened circumstances, too...’ She spread her hands as though the conclusion was obvious.

  ‘You mean...’ Rosalind wriggled her bottom and screwed up her nose ‘...that this uncle of hers will now look after Cassy, the way he’s doing for her brother?’

  ‘Oh, no, nothing like that!’ Godmama clucked her tongue as though Rosalind had said something stupid, which made Rosalind flush. ‘He has done enough, don’t you think? Speaking to her in public has let everyone know that he now accepts her as one of the family. Which throws into question every nasty rumour that her stepfather spread about her all those years ago. And from the hints he has already dropped about having to fund Frederick, because her stepfather is too mean to do so, people will probably put two and two together and start wondering if he simply turned Cassy out of doors so that he could get his greedy hands on her inheritance.’

  ‘Oh. Do you have an inheritance?’ Rosalind turned to Cassy, who was rubbing at her forehead where a feeling of pressure was building.

  ‘Godmama, you know I didn’t want to use that excuse. I told you at the start—’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t, that’s the beauty of it. All I did was listen to what everyone else is saying and told them that my lips are sealed!’ She went off into a peal of laughter. ‘Your future in society is assured. And, therefore, Rosalind’s, too,’ she put in quickly, before Cassy could raise any more objections. ‘Because now, all the invitations you should always have had will come flooding in. You see if they don’t.’

  ‘Um, there is just one tiny problem, Godmama, in case you have forgotten.’

  She frowned. ‘And what is that?’

  ‘Colonel Fairfax. He...’

  Godmama flicked her fingers as though dismissing him. ‘We don’t need to worry about him. Unless...’ She sat forward, her expression changing to one of concern. ‘He didn’t frighten you, did he? With all that...brutish display of jealousy and possessiveness tonight?’

  Jealousy? Possessiveness? Before he’d talked about kissing her, she would not have believed that was what it was all about. But now she wasn’t so sure. Even when he’d been dancing with her, she’d preferred the way he’d glowered at her the whole time to the way the Marquess had appeared to barely notice she existed. Why, Colonel Fairfax had practically shoved the other gentlemen in the set aside after they’d performed one of the figures with her. It might not have been an elegant display of dancing, but it had been, in a strange way, rather flattering. Because he didn’t want to want her. It was far more satisfying than having a man pay her insincere compliments, because those, she’d learned from bitter experience, were often employed to try to deceive a woman. There was nothing deceitful about Colonel Fairfax. Everything was out in the open. Even, now, his unwelcome yearning to kiss her. Even if it was only a more law-abiding alternative to strangling her. It made her feel...irresistible.

  ‘Frighten me? No, not at all. You forget, I lived with a real bully for many years. And not once has the Colonel ever frightened me the way my stepfather did. Yes, he is angry and breathing threats. But that is only because he believes the lies that have been told about me. Who do you think could have set him against me, do you suppose? Who could possibly hate me so much that...?’ She shivered. ‘Godmama, don’t you think I could just tell him he has been misinformed? About the money I’m supposed to have extorted from Guy, if nothing else?’

  She’d been on the verge of doing so over her glass of lemonade when he’d teased her, holding it out of her reach, and she’d glimpsed a lighter side of him. He was, she was becoming more and more certain, a fine man, deep down. Even the way he was misguidedly trying to prevent her from doing something she had no intention of doing was a sort of example of his deeply ingrained habit of protecting the vulnerable from predators. Just as he’d protected her from Guy’s foolhardiness, thinking that he was protecting Guy from her.

  Godmama shook her head. ‘I may have humoured you by drawing the line at telling outright lies, but, Cassy, darling, the truth will not serve! I have told you, we don’t know what he will do with it.’

  That was, unfortunately, a fair point. She only had to remember the way he’d recoiled when she’d started to try to explain that he had nothing to fear from her, because she didn’t want to fight with him and that really there was no need to be fighting in the first place.

  ‘Besides,’ Godmama continued, ‘the other gossip I heard tonight concerns him. And you.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cassy sat up straighter. There was gossip about them?

  ‘Most people think you are doing him the world of good.’

  ‘I...what? How can that be?’

  ‘Well, you see, darling, since he returned from the war, he has been something of a recluse. No matter how many invitations were sent to him, from the most determined society hostesses, he never accepted a single one. Not until that night he stormed into Lady Bunsford’s rout and cornered you behind the potted palms. Well,’ she said, clapping her hands, just once, ‘that caused some speculation, naturally. But then he put in an appearance at the theatre and came to our box, and spoke with you in a most intimate fashion for several minutes before leaving. Never speaking to anyone else...’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And then, he took you out for a drive in his carriage,’ said Godmama, denying Cassy the chance to say a word. ‘And he never drives out in his carriage during the fashionable hour, let alone with a female up beside him. Nor does he waste his time doing anything so frivolous as going to the theatre, not even for a few minutes.’

  ‘Yes, but it was all so that he could...scold me,’ Cassy pointed out. ‘Gossip is making it sound as though...’

  Godmama waved her hand as though brushing aside a minor detail. ‘Lady Bunsford has been crowing about her success in getting the Colonel to attend her rout, even though it was but for a minute or two, because it was the first such event he has attended for years. And she is such a jumped-up little mushroom, that none of the real leaders of society can bear it. They will do whatever it takes to have him grace their own events, too. Well, they don’t want to be outshone by a creature like her, do they?’

  ‘I thought,’ said Rosalind, stiffening, ‘you said getting an invitation to Lady Bunsford’s rout was a coup.’

  ‘Well, so it was. For you. I mean, for both of you, at the time,’ said Godmama, waving her hand between the two girls. ‘I know I told your papa that I could get you into the houses of the highest people in the land,’ she said, looking a little shamefaced, ‘but I’m sure you have realised, by now, that it was just the teeniest little bit of an exaggeration.’

  ‘Because I smell of the shop and Cassy had committed that Fatal Error when she was younger,’ said Rosalind grimly.

  Godmama gave her a stern look. ‘You know how hard I have worked to get you seen at lots and lots of places, where the kind of men who would want to marry you could put in an appearance without it looking too obvious. But now,’ she continued, cutting Rosalind off when she took a breath to speak her mind, ‘we really will be getting invitations to all the places I dare say your papa thought I meant, when I said the best houses. Because, not only have I repaired Cassy’s reputation, but people are also starting to notice that if they invite Cassy to any party of theirs, the chances are the Colonel will show up, as well. Which would be a feather in any ambitious hostess’s cap.’

  ‘That’s...’ Poor Colonel Fairfax. He didn’t
want to go to balls and plays or driving in the park. ‘It doesn’t seem right to keep him on a string like this...’

  ‘Pish! The man needs to get out more. His sisters and his aunts have been fretting about him for several Seasons, you know, because he really ought to be finding himself a wife. He is quite a catch,’ she said, eyeing Cassy speculatively. ‘The heir to an earldom, with a substantial fortune, several handsome properties dotted about the country, as well as his house in London, and connections to the most influential people in the land. Any woman who is lucky enough to marry him will become extremely important herself. Socially, I mean. So I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if your uncle wouldn’t provide you with a handsome dowry if you could somehow get the Colonel to turn all that thwarted passion into a proposal...’

  ‘No! I mean...’ She hadn’t come to Town to find a husband. ‘And anyway, I must be the last person he would consider marrying.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I think if you put your mind to it, you could easily make him forget himself. And then he would have to marry you...’

  ‘No. Absolutely not.’ There was simply no way she would stoop to such despicable behaviour. ‘I am not so desperate for a husband that I would try to trap anyone. Especially not him.’ She couldn’t see him falling into any sort of trap set by anyone, not after surviving all that the French could throw at him. He’d only marry when he was good and ready. And for his own reasons, at that. Besides, he clearly thought of her as an enemy. He’d proved it tonight, when she’d attempted to negotiate a truce and he’d recoiled in horror. He would settle for nothing less than total surrender. On his terms. Which she could not give.

  She still had some pride.

  ‘As if she’d want to marry a bitter, bigoted man like that,’ said Rosalind, hotly. ‘Though I hope he does get caught by some woman who will turn out to be a suitable punishment for him,’ she added, with verve. ‘Someone who will make him miserable for the rest of his life.’

  Cassy shrank from the vision of some woman making him miserable for the rest of his life. She didn’t think he deserved that. Besides, she couldn’t really imagine him with anyone else without getting a horrid, wrenching sort of feeling inside. Not after being on the receiving end of all the heat blazing from his eyes when he’d threatened to kiss her, in full view of everyone in the ballroom.

  ‘No,’ said Godmama pensively. ‘If Cassy won’t make a push to secure him, it’s unlikely he will make anyone any proposals this Season. He is only just coming out of the...well, whatever it is that has kept him acting like a hermit for the past few years. Next year, perhaps, or the one after...’ She shrugged and sighed, and shook her head ruefully over what she was implying was a waste of an opportunity. ‘You will not do anything to prevent him from appearing to dangle after you, though, will you, Cassy?’

  ‘I don’t think there is anything that would do that,’ said Cassy. ‘Apart from making a clean breast of everything.’ Although would he believe the truth even if he heard it? She had the sinking feeling that he wasn’t likely to believe anything that came from her lips.

  ‘Which I hope you have no intention of doing,’ said Godmama. ‘Even if you don’t want to get a husband this Season, we did promise to find one for Rosalind. And we are now just on the cusp of social success. Having the Colonel dangling after you is providing so much interest that we are bound to get invitations from even the highest sticklers, since they wouldn’t be able to bear being the only ones not to have the Colonel visit their houses...’

  ‘I wouldn’t blame you,’ Rosalind butted in, laying her hand on Cassy’s, ‘if you decided you’d had enough. You’ve got what you came to Town for, after all, haven’t you? You got your uncle to welcome you back into the family and now you can take your rightful place in society again. And I can see how much you hate having that horrid Colonel persecuting you the way he did tonight. I can always write to Papa,’ she said with a sigh, ‘and tell him that his idea won’t work, that no titled man is going to marry a girl from my background,’ she said glumly. ‘And we can both go home.’

  Godmama gasped and placed her hand to her breast. ‘But...he’d want his money back! And I’ve spent it all! There were debts, you know, and then the staff wages...’

  Cassy looked from one crestfallen face to the other. Knowing she had the power to make them both smile again, she thrust her own qualms to one side.

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said with as much conviction as she could. ‘I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet. I’ve already told you, the Colonel doesn’t frighten me. And it would be selfish of me to abandon you, Rosalind, before you’ve achieved your own goals.’

  As the smiling faces of the two women turned to her, Cassy tried to draw comfort from knowing she’d made her friends happy.

  And bade farewell to any hope she might be able to redeem herself in the Colonel’s eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  Cassy shuddered as she looked at her reflection in the mirror the next morning. The puffiness of her eyes, and the shadows beneath them, bore testimony to the hours she’d spent weeping instead of sleeping.

  What she really needed was some thin slices of cucumber to lay over her eyelids, to bring the swelling down before facing the world. Only to get some cucumber she’d have to face whoever was in the kitchen, which would rather defeat the object. For they would want to know what the matter was and if there was anything they could do. And since she couldn’t understand the depths of the misery she’d gone through last night, how could she put it into words to explain it to anyone else?

  So she went to the washstand and splashed her face with cold water instead. Hopefully it would deal with the evidence of the bout of...self-pity, yes, that was what had afflicted her the minute she’d climbed into bed last night.

  And while she repeatedly splashed her eyes, she gave herself a stern lecture.

  You have no reason to feel sorry for yourself, you foolish girl, she told the wan creature who stared forlornly back at her whenever she raised her eyes to the mirror. You live in luxury. With a duchess, no less! You have a friend in Rosalind. And a loving home to return to, when this ordeal in London is over. And no more need to hang your head in shame, because the head of your family is no longer shunning you. Why, there might even be an invitation to Sydenham Hall this Christmas. So you should be skipping around this bedroom singing, not crying because...because...

  She leaned her hands on the marble top of the washstand, letting water drip from her face back into the basin. This was the nub of the matter. It didn’t seem to matter what anyone else thought of her while Colonel Fairfax persisted in treating her as if she was some sort of... Delilah, whose sole aim in life was to lull a man into a false sense of security so she could render him a slave to her evil plans. Yet she was going to have to face his contempt, day after day, until Rosalind finally bagged her titled husband, because she’d promised to stay in London until that happened.

  Oh, but that day couldn’t come soon enough. For only then could she go home. Home to Market Gooding and the house where she could...

  A wry smile tugged at her mouth as she imagined the way her aunts would react if she went back to them, once again, broken-hearted because of a man. They hadn’t allowed her to take to her bed and go into a decline the first time and they most definitely wouldn’t do so now. In fact, they’d have less sympathy for her this time round, because last time they could tell that Guy had only been one part of the train of events that had led her to their door. He’d let her down, to be sure, but it was her mother’s betrayal that had cut her to the quick. The way she’d stood by, refusing to defend her no matter how Cassy had begged, because she was so utterly cowed by Stepfather.

  Well, she was not going to be cowed by a man. She reached for a towel and scrubbed her face dry. Letting a man have too much power, in any way, always resulted in abject misery. Even her darling papa, her real papa, hadn’t done her mother any goo
d, in the long run. Because Mama had rushed into marriage a second time with a man who had pretended to be just like him, probably so that she could recapture what she’d lost when he’d died. Well, also, because she hadn’t wanted her children to grow up without any father at all...

  Oh, if only Mama had stood up to Stepfather when he’d first started to reveal his true colours, Cassy wouldn’t have turned to Guy. If Guy had more than the...the brains of a flea, he wouldn’t have dragged her halfway across the country, before tamely allowing the Colonel to send her home when he knew what awaited her there.

  Colonel Fairfax, she couldn’t help reflecting, would never have done anything so cork-brained. If he’d set out to rescue a girl, he would have done it properly. He would have known all about licences and the age of consent, and all that.

  Only he hadn’t been interested in rescuing her, had he, back then? He’d been rescuing Guy. From her.

  Even now, when he talked about being tempted to kiss her, he made it sound as though doing so would be to sink to the depths of depravity in a way that appalled him. Which made her feel like a...worm, rather than being able to rejoice in what Godmama had achieved for her.

  She wasn’t going to let him, or any other man, rob her of anything else, she vowed, striding to her wardrobe and yanking it open. She would remember where her loyalties lay, which was with Godmama, who’d worked so hard to free her from the chains of shame Stepfather had clapped on her. And Rosalind, sweet, generous Rosalind, who’d offered to put aside her own ambition because she could see that the situation was making Cassy uncomfortable.