Cassy’s heart sank. There was, as Godmama had just pointed out, going to be a lot of the sort of malicious gossip that was meat and drink to Godmama’s set. And Cassy couldn’t possibly leave her to face it on her own.
It felt as though the steel jaws of a trap had just snapped shut, tethering her here for the foreseeable future.
* * *
‘Finally,’ said General Fewcott as Nathaniel entered his office. ‘Thought you were never going to show up with these costings.’
Although the General had every right to be annoyed at the amount of time Nathaniel had taken over this particular report, he looked more amused than anything.
‘Heard you haven’t had much time for this sort of thing of late,’ he said, tossing it on to a pile of similar-looking folders. ‘Heard you have been dancing attendance on that Furnival girl. Heard you have outshone all your rivals and are now the clear front runner.’ The General now looked positively amused.
‘I...uh...’
The General slapped his hand on the desk and guffawed with laughter. ‘About time you sowed a few wild oats. You’ve been making us all nervous, stalking about with that grim face, working so hard you make us all look like park loungers.’
Wild oats? Was that what everyone thought? Of course they did, because his sisters had blackened Cassy’s name, which made it all the more imperative she agreed to marry him. Only his own family could undo the wrong they’d done her.
The trouble was, she was still determined to resist him. So determined, that he’d even started to hope he might have got her with child. She’d have to marry him, then.
Only, did he want her to marry him just because she felt she had no choice? Would she not resent him and embark on their marriage determined to hold aloof, inside, where it mattered?
‘...which is what everyone could see from the very first,’ the General was saying, making Nathaniel aware that he hadn’t been paying attention. ‘Scoundrel like that. Theakstone mismanaged that affair badly. Came the heavy with her. Reminded her of his father, I expect.’
‘Theakstone?’
‘The Duchess’s stepson. Surely you know all about that side of the family, with you being so wrapped up in the goddaughter?’
‘No, I...’
‘Hah! Well, I’m not one for gossip,’ said the General, leaning forward on his desk, his eyes lighting up the way all gossips did when imparting a juicy titbit. ‘But we all think that is why she invited the Mollington girl to Town in the first place. To thumb her nose at her stepson’s autocratic ways. He tried to break up the affair with Captain Bucknell when she grew a bit too indiscreet, don’t you know? Should have just bided his time. It would always have ended up with something like this.’
Captain Bucknell? The big, bewhiskered guardsman who was always hovering about in the background? What did he have to do with anything?
‘I’m sorry, I don’t follow.’
‘No? Well, it was obvious a fellow like Captain Bucknell was never going to warm the Duchess’s bed for long. And now he’s run off with that heiress...’
‘I beg your pardon. Heiress?’
‘The Mollington girl. Well, you know that her father is some sort of mill owner. Latest on dit is that he wanted his daughter to be launched into society as if she was a lady. And the Duchess was totty-headed enough to be the one to take her on. Probably to thumb her nose at Theakstone, if I’m not mistaken. However...’
Suddenly, a lot of things that had not added up before made complete sense. Cassy had never properly explained what she was doing in Town, if it wasn’t to find a rich husband. But if the Duchess was at war with her stepson and had enlisted Cassy’s aid to provide cover for Miss Mollington...yes, that must be it. He should have seen it before. Only Cassy had been so close-mouthed about it all...but then of course she would, wouldn’t she? She was honour-bound to keep her godmother’s secrets.
‘And you say the girl the Duchess took into her home has run off with the Duchess’s lover?’
‘That’s it. First thing this morning.’
‘Good God.’ How on earth had General Fewcott learned what went on, inside a private house, so quickly? He shuddered to think.
‘I should like to see what’s going on in Grosvenor Square today,’ the General remarked. ‘Hysterics, I shouldn’t wonder. Gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair.’
How could the old man find all this so amusing? But then, that was the way of the world. Most people found nothing more entertaining than the misfortunes of others.
Cassy, however, would be devastated. No matter how scandalous her godmother’s behaviour, Cassy had never once said a word against her because she was loyal.
Which gave him an idea. An idea of such brilliance that he couldn’t wait to set it in motion.
‘If you will excuse me, sir,’ he said, ‘I have to...’ And without awaiting a word of dismissal, he turned on his heel and left.
Chapter Twenty
The butler at Grosvenor Square pokered up the moment he opened the door.
‘I regret, sir, that I cannot...’
Nathaniel thrust him aside and stepped into the hall.
‘I know what your orders are,’ he said. ‘But let me tell you that the Duchess will be very glad to see me.’
‘Her Grace is not receiving,’ the butler said.
‘Because of that girl running off with the Captain, yes, I’m not surprised she doesn’t want to see anyone else. But I have a solution she will want to hear,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘I... Colonel, please, I...’ The butler might have made a token protest, but Nathaniel could not miss the way the man was gesturing with his hands to the upper floor. And then, as if being struck with a brainwave, he added, ‘I really must protest. Gordon!’ A young footman came trotting along the upper landing. ‘Make sure this man does not disturb Her Grace. Bar the door if necessary.’
At that, the footman went trotting back along the landing and took up a belligerent pose outside one of the doors. Which told Nathaniel exactly where he would find the woman he was searching for. Cassy. She was bound to be at her godmother’s side at a time of crisis, offering what comfort she could.
He pushed the faintly protesting butler aside, again, and stalked up the stairs, weighing the odds. On the one hand, the footman was a big, burly fellow who looked as though he was going to enjoy denying Nathaniel admittance. It was the same young chap with the granite jaw who’d given him such black looks the day Cassy had received Nathaniel alone. He’d been wanting to plant him a facer when he’d handed him back his boots. And now he had permission to do so he was grinning with anticipation.
On the other hand, Nathaniel had spent much of his adult life fighting real battles. Learned a lot of low-down tricks from men who’d grown up in the gutters. Tricks that had saved his life on occasion. Tricks that a domestic servant could not begin to imagine.
Nathaniel reached the landing and advanced to a point just out of reach of the footman’s long arms. For a moment the two men stood eyeing each other. Then Nathaniel put up his fists in the traditional sparring pose.
The footman sneered.
Nathaniel feinted with his right.
The footman threw a punch that would have felled an ox. Nathaniel, however, was not an ox and so easily managed to dodge it, getting in a jab to his opponent’s kidneys on his way past, because the energy that the footman had thrown into his punch carried him several feet beyond the point where Nathaniel had been standing. Several feet away from the door he was supposed to be guarding.
Nathaniel darted to the door and got it open before the footman had stopped his headlong rush. But with a bellow of rage, the young man turned, lunged and wrapped his massive arms round Nathaniel’s upper body just in time to prevent him getting inside the holy of holies.
Nathaniel thwarted him by the simple expedient of letting his
knees go soft, so that the footman’s weight propelled both men forward into the room. They rolled over and over each other and landed in a tangle of limbs on a very fine, and thankfully soft, pale blue rug.
The Duchess—who, Nathaniel noted from under the edge of the footman’s wig, was lying on a daybed, still clad in what he couldn’t help noticing was some very fetching night attire—uttered a shriek and flung out one hand, rather in the manner of Mrs Siddons making her farewell address. The other hand kept tight hold of a decanter.
Just before the footman gripped him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, he saw Cassy was kneeling beside the daybed, bathing her afflicted godmother’s temples with lavender water. She leapt to her feet as well, dropping both handkerchief and bottle, before grabbing the end of the daybed to stop herself overbalancing.
‘What do you mean by bursting in here like this?’ she cried, taking up a defensive position in front of the Duchess in dishabille.
‘Don’t you fret, miss,’ panted the burly footman who still had his meaty hand in Nathaniel’s collar. ‘I’ll soon settle his hash.’
‘You might want to hear my plan first,’ Nathaniel bit out, before jabbing his elbow into the footman’s stomach so hard the man doubled over.
‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace,’ said the butler, stumbling into the room in almost as theatrical a manner as his mistress had just employed. ‘I told him you were not receiving, but he would not take heed.’
‘He says he has a plan,’ said the Duchess, gazing at Nathaniel hopefully. ‘Oh, put him down do, Gordon, and let him speak. It’s not as if things can get any worse, is it?’
‘They might,’ cried Cassy. ‘Don’t listen to him, Godmama.’
‘Now, sweetheart,’ he said, shaking off the disappointed footman and turning to Cassy. ‘I know you wanted to wait until Miss Mollington was settled, but really there is no point in keeping our news a secret any longer.’
Cassy’s eyes widened. Her face paled as she saw what he was intending. ‘No, you cannot mean to—’
He seized one hand and slid his other round her waist. ‘Miss Furnival and I,’ he announced to the room in general, ‘are to be married.’
‘Oh, Cassy, you foolish girl, you did not need to keep such news secret from me,’ said the Duchess, her face lighting up.
‘Oh, but...’ But the Duchess didn’t want to hear Cassy’s explanation. Nor did the servants. The butler was smiling at her fondly and the footman had a look on his face that said about time. So she was not going to get any help from that quarter.
‘The Gazette,’ said the Duchess, swinging her legs to the floor. ‘You must get a notice posted today, Colonel. Then nobody will be able to say I failed this Season, will they? Because I did find you a husband, at least, Cassy. And a ball,’ she said, tossing the decanter aside carelessly. Thankfully it landed upright amidst the sofa cushions. ‘We must have a ball. I will make it the most sought-after event of the Season. Well, naturally it will be. Everyone will want to see the ton’s most elusive bachelor finally tie the knot. And if they want to be present, they will not dare utter a word about that...’ she screwed up her face ‘...double-crossing pair of deceivers. Not to my face, anyway, not if they want to get an invitation to your betrothal ball. And who cares what anyone may say behind my back?’
‘You could let it be known,’ Nathaniel suggested, ‘that you were tired of Captain Bucknell anyway and effected the introduction to Miss Mollington out of the goodness of your heart. He may not have a title, but he does come from a very good family.’
‘That’s true,’ said the Duchess, brightening even further. ‘And even though he doesn’t have a title at the moment, which is what Rosalind’s papa wanted for her, there are only two older brothers and his father standing between him and a marquessate,’ she said, ruthlessly disposing of all the Captain’s closest male relatives, ‘when all’s said and done.’
‘B-but, Godmama...’
‘Oh, Cassy,’ said the Duchess, surging to her feet, and flinging her arms round her. ‘I knew I could rely on you. It was the best idea I ever had, bringing you to London, wasn’t it?’
‘Um...’
If Nathaniel had been less desperate, he might have felt sorry for Cassy, who was looking decidedly hunted. But he’d given her plenty of chances to forgive him and accept his proposal, and she hadn’t made use of them. And didn’t they say that all was fair in love and war?
‘And now...’ the Duchess sighed ‘...I may be happy.’
‘Surely...’ said Cassy, looking at the Duchess’s beaming smile in a perplexed manner. ‘It will not be that easy to put aside your grief...’
‘Grief? Pooh,’ said the Duchess, waving her hand in a manner expressing contempt at the very idea. ‘You speak as if my heart is broken, whereas it is only my pride that has taken a battering. You cannot really think I was in love with that great booby, can you?’
‘But...but...you said you took a stand when your stepson tried to make you give him up.’
‘Well, what if I did? Do you think I was going to let that boy bully me, the way his father did?’ She tossed her head, making the lappets of her lace cap flail wildly. ‘I would probably have grown tired of him by now, anyway. He may have had his uses. Well, it was very flattering to have such a young, handsome escort for a woman my age. And he was exceptionally skilled in the...ah...well, we won’t go into that,’ the Duchess concluded with a positively naughty smile. ‘Goodness, there is so much to do,’ she said to Dawes, who was still hovering by the door. ‘And I still in my dishabille,’ she said, heading for that door. ‘I must get dressed and start making lists. Cassy, I know you will come and help me, in half an hour or so. That is all the time I can leave you two lovebirds alone,’ she said with an arch smile, before beckoning the servants to follow her, leaving them in sole possession of the room.
‘You sneaky so-and-so,’ said Cassy, rounding on him the moment they were alone. ‘Telling Godmama we are going to be married when I’ve said no I don’t know how many times!’
‘You could have put her right,’ he said, unabashed.
‘No, I couldn’t. As you very well knew when you said it! You deliberately backed me into a corner, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you at least have the grace to pretend to be ashamed of yourself?’
‘No. After seeing how easily you were able to withstand me when I laid siege to your heart, I could see that I was going to have to call in reinforcements. Which I did, in the form of the Duchess. I knew, you see, that you could not fight us both. You are so loyal to that woman that you would never do anything to hurt her, since she appears to be about the only person who has stood by you, through thick and thin. As I mean to stand by you,’ he said, taking a couple of steps closer, ‘in future, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad.’
‘In short,’ she replied, standing her ground, ‘you just had to beat me, no matter the cost.’
‘Cost? There is no cost. Not to me.’
‘Good grief, do you really care so much for your image of yourself as an honourable man you will ally yourself to a woman you have never respected?’
‘I do respect you.’
‘So much that you lectured me about tossing my virginity away before my wedding night!’
‘I... Cassy, I was not in my right mind that day. Could you not tell? I had just gone through an amazing... I don’t know how to describe it. Almost like a rebirth...because of you. Your generosity, your compassion...and I felt as though I’d taken advantage in the most despicable way.’
She snorted in a most unladylike fashion. ‘You don’t need to marry me as some sort of act of atonement...’
‘I won’t be doing so. I will be marrying you because I love you.’
She blinked. ‘No, you don’t.’
‘Don’t presume to tell me what I feel or don’t fee
l.’
‘Don’t get on your high horse with me, either!’ They were standing toe to toe by now, glaring into each other’s eyes. It occurred to Nathaniel that if anyone came in at that moment, they’d think they were enemies, not lovers. ‘If you really loved me,’ she spat, ‘you would have come straight round here to beg my forgiveness, on bended knee. Not stroll, whistling, into a ballroom two days later and tell me I’d restored your sense of humour!’
Had he done that? He didn’t think so.
‘Look, Cassy, if I’d thought that begging your forgiveness would have worked, I would have done so. I did everything else I could think of,’ he pointed out. ‘I did all the things serious suitors are supposed to do. I called. I bought you flowers...’
‘You gave up the moment I put an obstacle in your way, though, didn’t you? You said you were relieved not to have to bother with it. That you were glad you needn’t waste any more of your precious time when you had far more important things to do!’
‘Not...exactly those words. But, yes, I was not very good at playing the part of a suitor...’
‘Playing the part? See? I knew you weren’t in earnest.’
‘Then you were wrong. I just needed to employ a different set of tactics. I could see it was useless trying to behave in a way that was foreign to my nature. It wasn’t even producing results, was it? That was why I was so pleased to learn about that girl’s elopement.’
She gasped, looking horrified.
‘Ah—that did not sound the way I meant it.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I am useless with words. But, Cassy, don’t you see? I knew it was my chance to make you lay down your weapons. I knew that you would rather keep your opinions of a man who has just announced he will marry you to yourself, than disappoint the Duchess when she has already been betrayed by two people who owed her just as much.’
The Scandal of the Season Page 22