A Scandal In the Making

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  But mostly, Cassandra would miss moments like this morning when he had sought her out in the meadow to speak with her privately. For a glorious slice of time, the sun had shone brightly, and they had spoken as friends might. Not lovers, for there was no possible way that Evan would desire to bed her given her sharp tongue, her overly curvy yet still short body, and her rather nasty proclivity for referring to him as a dragon. But friends? Yes, there were moments now and again when she thought they might be friends. Moments like this morning when the world was at peace - and so were they.

  Those were the moments that Cassandra treasured, though she would never admit that to anyone.

  However, if Evan took a wife, all of that would end, for Cassandra could not imagine any Society lady tolerating her presence in Evan's life. Especially not on the intimate level they currently enjoyed. They were an unorthodox pair, yes, but they were also, in many ways, far too intimate with each other when no one else was around. Cassandra knew that, and she suspected that Evan did as well for he was no fool. A wife, particularly one looking to firm up her place as marchioness and head of Evan's household, would never tolerate another woman being that close to her husband.

  So perhaps it was time Cassandra looked for a husband. She did not particularly desire one, but then, if Evan found a wife, what place would Cassandra truly have within Berkshire? Oh, she would have a roof over her head, certainly. Evan had made that clear and Cassandra doubted that any wife, no matter who she was, could overrule him on the matter.

  However, a roof over one's head was not the same as having a home. Not to mention that Cassandra was hardly the shy and retiring sort. She had grown up in the country and had been in charge of a household since she was really little more than a child. She likely would not take well to being ordered about by Evan's wife. Oh, there was hope, certainly, that he would select a meek and mild woman, but such a creature could never hold his interest for long or satisfy him in the bedchamber.

  Cassandra might be an innocent but she was not an idiot, and she knew very well by way of gossip that Evan could be a harsh and demanding lover. Which, when she thought about it - though she tried not to do that very often - made a great deal of sense. He was a passionate man in all other areas of his life so it made sense that he would be no different when he made love to a woman.

  Therefore, a meek and biddable bride who would not challenge Evan in life or in the bedchamber was likely out of the question. Which left a woman very much like Cassandra herself, one who spoke her mind and liked to be in charge - or at least as in charge of anything as a woman of her social standing could be. Thus, Cassandra had a feeling that such a combination of personalities would not come to any good end, and in the end, Cassandra herself would lose. Mostly because she would not be Evan's bride.

  So a husband it was. Even if the very thought of finding one made her a bit queasy.

  Squaring her shoulders, she was about to begin to tidy herself for luncheon and see what would need to be done about packing up the household for the move back to London when a loud knock came at her bedchamber door.

  "Come in, Aunt Louisa," Cassandra called, for there was only one person at Brambly Fields who had such a boisterous knock.

  The door squeaked open and the gray-haired lady on the other side of the threshold thumped her cane on the floor a few times before venturing into the room. Even though the occupied wing of Brambly was in good repair, the poor woman had lived a large part of her life with the previous marquess in the crumbling dowager house and had endured the floor giving away beneath her a time or two. Such a thing would not happen under Evan's care, but clearly some old habits died hard, especially in a woman as strong-willed and opinionated as Aunt Louisa.

  "Not packed yet, child?" the woman asked as she moved deeper into the room, apparently satisfied that she would not be sent crashing to the floors below anytime soon. "I know how much you adore London and thought you would have your trunks packed and ready by dinner. Yet you've not even begun!"

  Cassandra laughed as she helped the elderly woman into an overstuffed chair that she favored every time she came to visit. "Once upon a time, London was the focus of my existence, yes," she agreed. "However, as of late, I have come to appreciate the appeal of the country, particularly this area of Somerset."

  "Come to appreciate the time alone with my nephew, you mean. Foolish idiot that he is," Louisa quipped as she settled herself into the chair with a harrumph. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you. He's easy on the eyes and the two of you would suit if you asked me."

  "Or we would likely kill each other in short order." Cassandra shook her head as she debated about calling for a maid and then dismissed the idea. While they were dining, the staff could begin packing, but she didn't need their help in dressing, though she did have a lady's maid now - at Evan's direction, of course. "Aunt Louisa, you know very well that it has only been in the last few months that we have even been able to tolerate being in each other's presence for more than a quarter hour at a time without having it out over one thing or another."

  Louisa thumped her cane again. "There is a fine line between love and hate, Cassie. Don't be a fool." She scowled darkly. "More to the point, don't let some other woman take what is rightfully yours. You are just as much a part of Berkshire as Evan." Then she sniffed disdainfully. "Besides, I am rather used to you, and I despise the thought of having to break in another woman to this household. The debutantes these days are nothing more than silly chits who like to spend money their husbands don't have. Besides, it's you he prefers. Anyone with eyes, even that nearly blind maid he keeps on because he's so damn soft, can see that!" There was no doubt Aunt Louisa firmly believed every last word she had just uttered.

  "I am merely the poor relation," Cassandra replied tartly, not wishing to get into the particulars of her relationship with Evan with Aunt Louisa. If Cassandra herself could not explain things there was little chance of Louisa doing so either.

  "You're not a relation at all," the older woman corrected. "You are Lady Ellie's niece and she was old Berkshire's bride." Then Louisa snorted derisively. "He had other plans for you, child, though Heaven only knows what they were since you weren't of his blood but hers. My brother was a snake though and through, make no mistake. Thank God he died when he did or we'd all still be suffering to this day." Then she shook her head as she did each time she let slip that before their deaths, both the previous marquess and marchioness had some sort of plan in mind for Cassandra. "And why shouldn't Evan marry you, hmmm? You're as good a woman as any to give him an heir, not to mention that you already put up with his questionable ways and have yet to brain him over the head for it as he deserves."

  Cassandra sighed and decided to try her explanation again. "Because I don't love him? And he does not love me? And out of the two of us, one should be able to marry for love or not at all? And because the blood shed when we kill each other will likely not come out of the carpets and therefore make the household staff very cross with us?"

  "I notice you didn't say anything about not marrying him because he's not handsome enough," Louisa shot back quickly. "Or that you don't desire him. Or find him attractive."

  Ever since Cassandra had arrived at Berkshire House back in London, Aunt Louisa had suggested to anyone who would listen that Evan and Cassandra would make a perfect couple. It was well known that the woman had lost her own chance at love and happiness when she was younger because she had been unable to admit that she was in love with a man she feared her family would not approve of. Though much of Louisa's past, particularly her two trips to India, were shrouded in a great deal of mystery, Cassandra knew enough to understand that Louisa had lost the man - or possibly men - she loved and that was why she had remained an unwed spinster, eventually becoming dependent upon her scoundrel of a brother.

  Now in her old age, Louisa continually urged other young women to take the chance that she herself had been unable to and admit feelings for a man, even though he might
not be considered acceptable. From the first, it had baffled Cassandra why the woman promoted a match between her and Evan, though Cassandra had come to the conclusion that Louisa was acting out of fear and did not want the intrusion a new and unknown woman would bring into her life. Cassandra was a known quantity. A new bride would not be.

  "We have had this discussion before, Aunt Louisa." Cassandra sank down into a chair beside the other woman. "Yes, I acknowledge that Evan is handsome and attractive and would likely make some woman a good husband, but that woman is not me. I once compared him to an eel, remember, and even now cannot break the habit of referring to him as a dragon? We would likely kill each other, no matter how pretty of a couple we might make. Also, once he takes a bride, you know as well as I do that he will also take a mistress. I wish for my husband to be faithful. Evan cannot be. It is not in his nature." She shook her head. "We would not suit, but I am certain there is a young lady out there who would."

  "One full of fluff and nonsense, you mean." Louisa pushed herself to her feet on unsteady legs, refusing the helping hand that Cassandra offered. "He's a difficult man to bring to heel, I'll grant you that, but it can be done. With the right sort of wife, I even believe he would not seek out a mistress. But that wife has to be someone strong, not one of these milk and water misses that Society is breeding like rabbits these days."

  Cassandra arched an eyebrow. If nothing else, Louisa had strong opinions on many topics and was not afraid to voice them, feeling that since she was in her seventh - approximately anyway - decade, she had the right to do and say as she pleased - and she was not wrong on that count.

  "Well, be that as it may," Cassandra agreed after a long pause, "I still believe that I can firmly say that I am not the right choice to become Lord Evan Haddington's wife." She helped Louisa to the door. "However, you will be pleased to note that not all is lost and that I plan to seek a husband for myself once we return to town."

  That bit of news drew Louisa up short, her normally brash manner dropping away for a moment. "Are you certain, child?"

  Cassandra shrugged. "I cannot wed Evan for the reasons we have just discussed, but yet the idea of living under the direction of another woman, one likely far younger than I am, leaves a bitter taste in my mouth to be certain. Just as I know it does you. I would also no longer be in charge here, and I think that you, above all people, realize that such a subservient position would not suit me."

  "So he has said you could remain here after he marries?" Cassandra had the feeling Louisa was asking more for herself than Cassandra.

  She nodded. "Yes, Evan assured me I would always have a place here at Berkshire, as do you. But I think we all know that such a situation would never suit me in the long term. Therefore, it is best that I find a husband and set up a household of my own."

  Louisa paused for a moment. "Odd that you do not mention love when just moments ago, you spoke as if you could not live without that foolish emotion. If you wish for your own household, might I remind you that you have one right here. You simply have to be brave enough to seize it."

  "I will not discuss this again. My mind is made up." And really, it was. Cassandra was no fool, and she knew that while she might find Evan attractive, they would not suit as husband and wife - the bloodshed on the carpet being only one reason out of many. "I need a husband who is not Evan Haddington." Then she added more gently. "Now go on and I will see you at luncheon. There we can discuss what needs to be done in order to move us all back to London as quickly and easily as possible."

  Louisa harrumphed again, her spunk returning. "You need a husband that you can control is what you mean." She shook her head as she headed down the hallway back to her chambers. "Do not think to fool me otherwise." Then she increased her pace, moving far more rapidly than one would suspect and grumbling under her breath all the while about foolish young people and their daft notions.

  For a long moment, Cassandra simply stood and watched the other woman make her way back to her room. She would miss Louisa when she was gone, but that could not be helped. Cassandra might not love Evan, but she did care about him and despite what he believed at this very moment, another woman - particularly a much younger debutante - would not take kindly to Cassandra holding a place in Evan's life when he was married. So she could stay and be uncomfortable, and perhaps even unwelcome, or she could leave Berkshire and the Gray Ladies behind and live elsewhere. Perhaps even her beloved Ivy Cottage. However that sort of future, one devoid of any companionship save perhaps for a cat, did not hold any great appeal for her any longer. No, Cassandra needed a husband and a family of her own. There was no other choice.

  Briefly, her thoughts strayed back to a man she had known when she was younger, Matthew Taylor, who was the son of the local vicar in Little Bromley. He had been a kind, soft-spoken, gentle sort of man and they had been friends for an age. For a time, Cassandra had even thought that they might suit and be married. However, that was before she had come to London for the first time when she was just nineteen.

  For once her Aunt Ellie had called her to Berkshire House for a brief Season, Matthew had become cold and distant, saying he did not desire a debutante as his help-mate and wife, that his father would not approve of a woman little better than a hussy, and would cut Matthew out of his will if he was ever so foolish as to wed a woman like her. He had, however, hinted that if Cassandra had the necessary coin in the form of a rather sizeable dowry, he would forgo his father's demands and wed her anyway.

  She had seen a side of him that day that she did not like, one that used people and played them against each other for his own advantage. For Cassandra was no fool and she understood very well that Matthew would always align himself with whatever side suited his purpose and his needs. At that moment, since she was nothing more than a poor relation to the Reynolds family, that side was not hers.

  Matthew's words and actions had hurt Cassandra deeply, especially when he had also implied that if she went to London, even for a month or two, she would be little better than the harlots his father denounced from the pulpit every week. They hadn't spoken after that, for when she had returned to Ivy Cottage, Matthew was gone, off to war to fight Old Boney. However, Matthew had returned to their village sometime over the last year. She knew that from the letters she received from her old friends back home.

  Was he still unwed? The letters made no mention of his marital state, but if he were, surely he would have softened his stance towards her by now, having seen a bit more of the world himself. Had war changed him, mellowed his temper? Had it broken him of his habit of siding with whoever had the most to offer? She had heard that was the case, but was it true? Was marrying him a possibility? After all, they had shared an affection once and he might well be a better and different man than he had been when they parted so long ago. Was that enough to build a life upon? Or would she be better served by setting her sights on some impoverished member of the aristocracy, one who needed a wealthy wife? For Cassandra had no doubt that if she expressed a desire to marry, Evan would make certain she had a more than suitable dowry. He had hinted as much the previous year when he had been doing everything he could to be rid of her quickly. Since he was a man of his word, she assumed his offer from a year ago still held if she wanted it.

  However, whatever path she chose, aristocrat or other, Cassandra knew that changes lay ahead and, like Louisa, she had endured enough change to last a lifetime. So she needed to make a choice about her future, a future that, sadly, would not include Evan. The only choice she could not make was to do nothing, not when her very future was at stake.

  Chapter Three

  One week later

  Berkshire House

  London

  Town Tattler

  A new Season is upon us and with it comes a new voice to chronicle the lives of The Upper Ten Thousand. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Lady A, and, like my predecessor, Madame C, I am one of you. In fact, I might be walking amongst you now and you would be completely
unaware. For my tone is different than hers, though I shall endeavor to play by the same rules. I have been assured that my continued patronage depends greatly upon such adherence.

  So let us begin, shall we?

  First comes the news out of Cornwall that Lady Catherine Oakley, the former Countess of Crossbury, is now the Comtess De La Croix, having wed the actual De La Croix, one Lord Julian Valette, who is of very noble half-English and half-French blood. What became of Mr. Gaston (or possibly Henry, for the man used multiple Christian names) Fontaine, cousin to Valette and the man masquerading for years as the real count? I am afraid that I cannot say, but I am certain details will be forthcoming. We here at the Tattler wish the newly wed couple well. After all, who doesn't enjoy a good love story?

  In other news, lights were seen last evening at Berkshire House for the first time all Season. We hope that means that the marquess and his odd little family are back in residence. Rumor out of Somerset has it that one Lord Evan Haddington is now in search of a bride this Season and the sooner he acquires one the better. Since he does not seem inclined to wed his ward, Miss Cassandra Grove, as many anticipated that he would, we here at the Tattler take his inaction to mean that the position of marchioness is available to any young lady bold enough and brave enough to take it. Good luck to all of those women who wish to try, for we here have it on excellent authority that it will not be an easy title to snare.

  -Lady A

  "You want a what?" Evan was well aware that he was bellowing, likely so loud that the neighbors two doors down could hear him, but he did not care at that precise moment.

  "A husband." Across the desk from him, in the very same spot where she had first hurled insults at him nearly a year ago, Cassandra sat very stiffly and altogether too properly in her chair, looking nothing at all like the woman he knew so well. "Come now, Evan. Women seek husbands all the time. It is simply what is done amongst our set." Then she added. "As it is, you are already seeking a wife. Why should I not desire a mate for myself?"