The Tigresse and the Raven (The Friendship Series Book 1)

by Julia Donner

  Tessa bobbed a nervous curtsy that nearly unbalanced her. “Yes, my lady!”

  Lady Duncan paused before leaving. “Tessart, did you have any part of the events that transpired this evening?”

  Since her aunt had a knack for reducing servants to babbling idiocy, Cassandra spoke for her goggle-eyed maid. “Leave her be, Aunt Jane. She doesn’t know anything about tonight.”

  Lady Duncan drilled Cassandra with an awful stare. “Which is to say that she is privy to things I do not know. We shall discuss this matter in detail on the North Road.”

  Tessa rushed to open the door for Lady Duncan. As soon as it closed, Tessa hurried to Cassandra, who was about to sit on the bed in clothes smeared with alley filth. After the soiled breeches got peeled off, she pushed Cassandra to sit on the frilly counterpane, pulled off the boots and quickly removed the disreputable clothing.

  Cassandra raised her arms, stood and sat as Tessa commanded, feeling as exhausted as a play-worn child. All she wanted now was to blot out the horrible images with sleep.

  Tessa turned down the bedclothes. “Oh, Cassy, what have you gone and done this time?”

  “Can’t tell you, Tessa. For your own good, it’s best you don’t know. Don’t start weeping. Just promise me that you’ll never tell anyone that I was out this night.”

  “Do you take me for a cabbage head? Here, drink this down. That’s right. Now, before the Mad Dragoness of the Highlands returns, a letter came.”

  “Letter?” Cassandra mumbled, snuggling under the sheets.

  “Here, look at it. The seal looks familiar. ‘Twas delivered in care of me below stairs. No one else was allowed to touch it. The servant what delivered it was a strapping fellow. Biggest man I’ve ever seen.”

  “You read it. Tell me if it’s important. My head’s splitting.”

  Tessa propped her bottom on the edge of the bed and broke the seal. She unfolded the paper and tilted the single page to the candlelight.

  “It starts out with the usual muck of beggin’ your pardon. But it’s an odd sort of letter, if you ask me. Oh, wait. Listen to this…! ‘I was grieved to learn of your present situation and unfortunate circumstances necessitating your betrothal. Since your aunt, Lady Duncan, and my departed mother shared a lasting friendship, I am compelled to offer you assistance at this delicate time. If there is any way in which I might do you a service, please, do not hesitate to ask it of me or my staff. You have not replied to my previous notes.’ Did you hear that, Cassy? He’s chiding you for not answering his messages. What cheek! Ah, he’s got the wit to apologize in the next line. ‘I pray that your silence does not stem from any offense taken for my presuming to correspond without proper introduction. Accept my profound apologies if I have in any way discommoded you and believe that I am, and always will be, your most humble servant.’ Cassy, are you awake?”

  Cassandra reached for a fat bolster to hug. “Almost. Who’s it from?”

  “Ravenswold,” Tessa whispered, awed. “Isn’t he that hulking beast what—I mean, that took you up out of the rain?”

  Cassandra grunted and rolled onto her side. “Go away.”

  “Cassy, there’s a bit of talk about him below stairs. They say he’s a recluse, but when people say his name, it’s sort of fearful. If you’re in trouble, perhaps you should answer this. He sounds like somebody what could sort out this filthy mess.”

  “Throw it away. I’ve had enough of men to last me a lifetime.”

  Unable to say another word, Cassandra pretended to be asleep. Poor Tessa had no idea how irreparable things were. No man would have her now. She’d been able to avoid marriage and the humiliation of revealing that she wasn’t a virgin. Now she could add murderess to the list.

  Chapter 12

  After a month of exile in Scotland, which Cassandra enjoyed to the fullest, she received a letter from Mutual Friend. Arthur had been fatally wounded while trying to escape transportation to Australia. She rode the hills every day, whatever the weather, to wrestle with her despair and the waste of a fine young man’s life.

  Her parents abandoned her again, fleeing to Italy still heavily in arrears and relying on the Duncans to clean up after their mess. Cassandra asked her uncle why he settled their most recent debts and he replied that he didn’t want his niece dunned. This seemed odd; the moneylenders weren’t going to follow her north or her parents out of the country. The truth came out one sunny spring morning six months later when Lady Duncan announced they would be journeying back to London. And wherever Lady Duncan went, Cassandra must follow.

  Cassandra realized she’d been fooling herself. Her aunt would never give up her matchmaking schemes. Even though she felt herself prepared to face London society, she preferred not to muddle through it and suffered a vague discomfort throughout the duration of the trip south. A certain smugness in her aunt’s attitude and the crafty gleam in her watery blue eyes warned Cassandra of unfinished battles to come.

  They headed south in the rain. Nothing stopped her aunt when she had a goal in sight. Seated next to Lady Duncan, she watched in fretting silence while her aunt plotted, eager to put into play a campaign to secure an advantageous marriage for her niece.

  After days of slow going through mud and muck, they neared London. Bored from inactivity, Cassandra stared in a daze at the increasingly urban view beyond the carriage window and tried not to think of confronting society. She could be grateful that the number of people in the city would be less than usual. The activity outside testified to that with roads clogged with carriages leaving the city prior to the end of the Little Season and in advance of summer’s heat.

  Before starting on the trip south, her aunt attempted to get Cassandra fitted for a suitable wardrobe, calling her clothes a disgrace—last years’ fashion and some of them over mended. Cassandra refused, terrorizing seamstresses and milliners until they fled. Her aunt let the matter drop, but Cassandra wasn’t fooled. Lady Duncan would plot a different strategy and assault for another day. Cassandra didn’t have long to wait. The confrontation came on the second day in London.

  Cassandra sailed into the morning room and stopped, startled to see her aunt, who never rose before luncheon, seated at the table.

  “Good day to you, Aunt Jane.”

  “And to you, my midget!”

  Cassandra stared. Cautious and watchful, she sat in the chair MacWhitter, her aunt’s butler, held for her. “How are you this morning?”

  “Excellent in every way. MacWhitter, I’ll have another cream bun.”

  Cassandra tugged off her gloves. “Why are you up, Aunt Jane? I don’t ever remember you being awake this early.”

  “We shall have a visitor later this morning, and I want to speak to you before she arrives. I see by your toggery, shabby as it is, that you’ve been out for an early morning promenade. Was it to your liking?”

  “I have, and it was,” Cassandra answered, “but nine o’clock in the morning isn’t early for me. I’ve been awake since five.”

  “Did you walk by Grosvenor?”

  “On my return. And received the cut direct from three, former neighbors.”

  “No matter. In time, they will rue their actions.” That thought made her aunt smirk.

  Cassandra kept her attention fixed on her aunt as if she were a bomb about to explode. Lady Duncan expanded her grin into a toothy smile.

  Cassandra squinted at that display. “MacWhitter, may I have coffee now? I have the feeling Aunt Jane has some disagreeable information to spring on me, and I shall need all my wits about me.”

  He bowed. “Aye, Miss Cassandra.”

  Cassandra stopped MacWhitter at the servant’s door by asking, “Yes, to the breakfast, or to the nasty card Aunt Duncan has tucked up her sleeve?”

  MacWhitter murmured before departing, “Have courage, lass.”

  Cassandra sighed and dropped her gloves on a nearby chair. “Out with it, Aunt Jane. You’re dying to tell me.”

  “Very well. Lindy Wethermore will be calling
later this morning.”

  “Wethermore? Oh, yes, I remember her. The very pretty lady with the…playful disposition. Will you enjoy a nice gossip?”

  Lady Duncan lifted her cup. “I never stoop to gossip.”

  MacWhitter returned and bent to whisper in Lady Duncan’s ear. Her aunt twisted on her chair to stare up at him. “What? At this hour of the morning? Impossible!”

  “But I am physical proof of the possibility,” cried that lady as she pushed through the door a footman hastened to open wider. “Jane, dearest, we are such old friends that I shall not stand on ceremony with you!”

  Lady Duncan could only stare as her visitor sat down beside her without invitation and demanded a cup from MacWhitter. The unwelcome guest roved a practiced eye over MacWhitter, who at thirty was rather young for a butler. Avid and sly, Lindy Wethermore’s blue eyes evaluated his magnificent physique from broad shoulders in a form fitting superfine coat to swaying kilt and tartan stockings held in place with bright red flashes.

  “Jane dear, I’m curious. Has the law against wearing tartan been repealed? Is he safe wearing that kilt?”

  Not with you in the room, Cassandra thought, and looked at her aunt.

  Lady Duncan replied, “You are behind times, Lindy. The Act against Highland dress was repealed thirty years ago. You remember my niece, of course.”

  Cassandra dipped her chin in a slight bow instead of rising to curtsey. “My lady.”

  “How lovely to see you again, Miss Seyton. I am parched, Jane.”

  “A dish of tea for my guest, MacWhitter.”

  “I prefer hot chocolate.”

  Lady Duncan said, “We don’t always get what we want in life, Lindy. She’ll have tea, MacWhitter.”

  While MacWhitter placed an empty cup and saucer, serviette and spoon in front of her, Lady Wethermore looked him up and down, then cooed, “Are there any more like you at home?”

  “My lady..?” MacWhitter murmured while pouring steaming tea.

  “Never mind. You may go. Dearest Jane, I hope you don’t mind my dismissal of your servant, but I must speak with you privately.”

  Lady Duncan speared her guest with a trenchant stare. “MacWhitter, do as she says.”

  Lady Wethermore tugged off her gloves. “And perhaps Miss Seyton wouldn’t mind leaving us for a few minutes.”

  Lady Duncan smiled thinly. “Since your visit involves her, my niece stays. But she will say nothing.”

  After MacWhitter left, Lady Duncan said, “You haven’t changed much over the years, have you, Lindy? Isn’t it somewhat tedious to be in a constant state of heat?”

  Lindy’s husky chortle was one of languid satisfaction. “Envy will get you everywhere with me, Jane. I’ve come to you concerning a matter of excruciating importance.”

  “How did you know we were in town? We have yet to hang out the door knocker.”

  “My dresser heard from the under-house footman that your footman dropped by Madame Yvonne’s shop to return some pattern books. That could only mean one thing. You were in town and wished to be properly outfitted before showing your face. Or should I say, your niece’s face?”

  “I hope that you’ve not come here this morning merely to pry odious information concerning Cassandra.”

  “No, dearest Jane, I have come to tell you the most delicious news I have regarding this beautiful girl!”

  Lady Duncan’s lantern jaw clenched. With careful precision she replaced her cup on the saucer and leveled a basilisk stare at her smug visitor. “Lindy, I must warn you that I’ve not been blessed with a surfeit of patience. I suggest you impart the information that threatens to explode you from that ridiculously wanton and altogether too tight apparel. I am not in the least surprised to learn that some habits in certain persons never change.”

  “For your sake and that of your lovely niece, you’ll be forever grateful that I have a decided weakness for the masculine gender. I shall make this brief.”

  “Please. Do!”

  “Very well then. While enjoying a pleasant drive in the park the same week of Miss Seyton’s tragic betrothal, my companion on that day first set eyes upon her. He couldn’t have beheld her for longer than a moment, and Jane, from that very instant, he’s been hopelessly smitten, which shouldn’t astonish anyone. She’s devastated many gentlemen in a similar fashion without so much as dropping a glove. She slaughters hearts with a glance from those remarkable eyes.” She shifted her attention to ask, “Do you darken those lovely long lashes?”

  Lady Duncan snapped, “Don’t answer that, Cassandra. Lindy, you promised to be brief.”

  “But I’m enjoying myself tremendously, Jane! Don’t be unpleasant.”

  “I’m never unpleasant. Gossip bores me.”

  “You’ll not be bored by the secret only I know! I cannot tell you how many times this very same gentleman has written to me to ask the whereabouts of your niece. Ah, that captures your attention.”

  Lady Duncan toyed with the cup in its saucer. “You may continue.”

  “You haven’t been in town recently, and no one knew where you’d gone. Since the fortunate demise of your niece’s betrothed, nothing’s been heard of you, and to be truthful, I had more interesting issues to pursue.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Lady Duncan witheringly commented, her meaning obvious.

  Lindy laughed. “Dearest Jane, I do hope that your niece is not presently contracted with a suitable parti?”

  “Why should that be of any concern to you, Lindy?”

  “I’m throwing a soirée Tuesday. I would like you and Cassandra to attend.”

  “We are sensible of the honor you do us, Lindy, but we are recently arrived and had not planned to go out among the beau monde for some time.”

  “A paltry excuse, Jane. Surely you can do better than that?”

  “I cannot see any reason whatsoever why I should make excuses to you, Lindy Stapleton Wethermore.”

  “You haven’t asked for the name of the gentleman so taken with your niece.”

  Lady Duncan sourly responded, “I fully expect you to enlighten me in your own good time. Preferably before the good Lord’s next coming.”

  “You are such fun! Always so marvelously disagreeable. I can’t wait another moment to tell you. My dear, it’s Rave!”

  Cassandra’s heart slowed and then started to pound. The memory of throwing his unopened letters into the flames bloomed before her eyes. He was still interested? She didn’t know whether to feel thrilled or terrified. The earl bore no resemblance to any of her previous suitors, in looks or temperament.

  Her aunt didn’t mask her astonishment. “Ravenswold?”

  Lady Wethermore chortled. “Ah, do I finally perceive a modicum of interest? Yes, Earl Ravenswold, the most elusive and uncatchable of the Eligible Four. Can you not see the splendid match to be made? She’ll have boxes of jewels, pin money, carriages, houses, a coronet and an exceedingly fine husband.”

  Cassandra concealed her shock when her aunt acidly observed, “I take it you can vouch for his suitability between the sheets.”

  The insult evoked a choked off squeal of delight from their guest. “How wonderfully vulgar of you, Jane! It’s always so much fun to talk with you. Other women dance about with their snide innuendoes. You come right to the point.”

  “Ravenswold is sincerely interested in Cassandra?”

  “At first sight!”

  Lady Duncan frowned. “How odd that he mentioned nothing in his correspondence.”

  “He has written her?”

  “Of course not! He wrote in reply to my letters of condolence for his mother’s passing.”

  “That was before he’d seen her in the park. Since then he’s pestered me for her whereabouts. And now that you’ve returned, I’ve prepared the perfect occasion for them to meet in the proper setting. What is left but success for all?”

  Lady Duncan’s stubby fingers drummed on the linen tablecloth. She gazed at the wall and into some far-off vision. When she me
ntally returned, she immediately pierced her guest with an accusing stare.

  “Why do you do this, Lindy? What have you to gain?”

  “An excellent question, Jane, and I shall be entirely honest with you. That day in the park, when Rave first saw your niece, I promised him that I’d be the instrument of their introduction and union. He, in turn, rendered to me a favor.”

  “I can well imagine what it might’ve been with a specimen like Sir Hubert for a husband.”

  Heat flooded into Cassandra’s cheeks. She refused to visualize what was being discussed and then suffered an irrational surge of resentful jealousy. Her swift temper made her decide to never have anything to do with the earl. Let her aunt and this unwholesome female devise any plan they liked. It didn’t mean they could make her comply.

  Their guest sent a fearful glance across the table, and Cassandra shifted her attention back to her aunt, a speaking gaze that said she wanted nothing to do with this woman.

  Lady Wethermore hastily said, “Dearest Jane, I must confess that the favor Rave granted me with such fervor and tender regard left me quite grateful. I vowed to do all that is possible to assist him in his quest for his love.”

  “I cannot see this ancient promise as a strong incentive to keep you to your word after so much time has passed, Lindy. Many since then have surely assisted you in a like manner.”

  “How very astute of you, Jane. There is another reason, just as you have guessed.”

  Lady Duncan lifted her cup and tasted its cooled contents with a grimace. “Which is?”

  “It comes down to that snippy Sally Jersey. She had the arrogance to brag that as a hostess no one could be her equal. She was stupid enough to announce this inflated opinion to a room full of London’s finest hostesses!”

  “Sally is usually quite clever. She must not have allowed the footman to pass by with the champagne tray.”

  Lady Wethermore preceded her answer with a slow and predatory smile. “She was indeed disguised at the time, but that’s her own fault.”

  Lady Duncan silently tapped a finger on the saucer rim as she thought. “Now I see where this is leading. Every hostess in town is breaking her neck to prove Sally a false fool. I wish you good luck at besting her. Sally does things in a grand style.”