“That is a very good idea, My Lord.” She fanned herself to appear convincing. “It is positively stifling! If you’ll excuse us, I believe my sisters and I shall retire until the dressing gong.”
CHAPTER SIX
Wade dressed with great care. Martin, his valet, provided a freshly-pressed suit of dinner clothes from the wardrobe chest. His evening shoes had been polished until they reflected the flickering glow of the lamplight overhead. His white shirt and cravat accentuated the tanned skin of his face, a complexion unfashionably bronzed by one afternoon in the sun.
Gold cufflinks flashed as Wade reached up to smooth his hair into place. He fussed with the thick black stuff in the oval mirror above the washstand. While he always looked presentable—he ordered clothes from the very best tailors, boots from the premier boot-makers—tonight, he wanted to make a good impression.
Wade had never gone out of his way to dazzle a woman. Members of the fairer sex either liked him or they didn’t. He couldn’t be troubled to change their minds, as the opinions of others rarely concerned him.
Cassandra Staunton concerned him. He wanted her to like him, and—truth be told—Wade feared that she didn’t.
He had made her uncomfortable in the garden. He had touched her openly, flirted plainly for the other guests to see. When he’d sparred with Eugenie Raines in the tea tent, the prettiest Staunton sister had looked deeply uncomfortable.
For all her sparkle, Cassandra did not appreciate being singled out.
He admired the way she treated Leah. He admiredallthe Misses Staunton for their compassion and integrity. Although the sisters lived humbly, they were ladies in the truest sense of the word, and had quite put the Raineses to shame.
Frocks, carriages, and country manors were mere trappings, as far as Wade was concerned. Such things did not impress him. Honesty, humor, kindheartedness, and a strong sense of self were the traits that caught his eye.
Cassandra had discussed art with passion, if not experience. She’d shared a wink with Leah, and offered a kind word in the child’s defense. She had all but sighed in his arms.
Knowingher,Wade feared he might never look at another woman again.
He descended the wide, curving stairs of Caswell Hall. He knew the house well, as he’d been visiting Simon since their boyhood days. He’d spent holidays on the estate, jaunts from London when town life took its toll. These carpeted corridors and walnut-paneled passages were dear to him. He made his way to the drawing room as coolly and comfortably as he would have done at any of his own residences.
Lord and Lady Crewe were already gathered in the large, lamplit space. He liked the couple well enough—more so now that the countess had befriended Honoria Staunton. Unlike the Raineses, they were not vain, unfeeling snobs. Indeed, the earl and countess were two of the most genuine members of society. They put no stock in wealth or status, as they were secure in their own.
Tom Swygert commandeered the drinks cabinet. The fellow was an industrialist who’d made a fortune in steel. He had invested with Simon in the railway, and the two men had become friends over the years.
Truthfully, Wade felt jealous of Mr. Swygert. The man had earned his wealth, earned folks’ good opinion and Simon’s friendship. Swygert deserved a lady like Cassandra Staunton. He could give her a comfortable, trouble-free life.
Tom Swygert and Lord Crewe had recovered from last night’s dissipation and already pulled the stopper from a fresh decanter of whiskey. They offered him a glass.
“None for me,” Wade said, sinking onto the sofa beside Lady Crewe. She thumbed through some periodical magazine, uninterested in masculine conversation.
He noticed she smelled of rosewater and powder. Silken skirts crowded the cushions, though her cage-crinoline had been tucked neatly into place. The countess was dressed to the height of fashion. Her bare shoulders sparkled with jewels. Glossy hairpieces were styled upon her head, pinned with silver-and-diamond combs.
She would not have looked out of place at Marlborough House, and, indeed, Wade had seen the lady and her husband in the company of the Prince and Princess of Wales. They were connected, and thus accepted into places wherehispresence was merely tolerated.
Lady Crewe lifted her eyes to note Wade’s empty hand, but said nothing. No one commented on his abstinence, though sobriety was out of character for the infamous Duke of Wadebridge. He wanted to be clear-headed when he spoke with Cassandra. He wanted to be sure-footed.
Should he get the chance to hold her again, Wade intended to have a steady hand, for a lady like Miss Staunton would never tolerate a scoundrel in her company.
Simon joined the foursome in the drawing room. He’d been in the nursery, Wade knew, comforting Leah. Thankfully, the child had survived her brush with Eugenie Raines.
Tom Swygert passed a glass of whiskey to their host. The gentlemen sat and conversed while they waited for the rest of the party to appear.
“I say, Althorne,” Swygert said, “I like your Misses Staunton. They remind me of some steely-spined valkyries I know in Sheffield.”
Wade resisted the urge to gnash his teeth, though his jaw ached from holding back. Mr. Swygert was a steady, uncomplicated sort of fellow. What if Cassandra preferred such a bland, unblemished gentleman?
Lord Crewe tipped his glass back, downing the amber contents. “I hope the sisters weren’t insulted earlier. I might’ve spoken up, but…well, one didn’t quite know what to say…”
Simon gestured for a footman to refresh the earl’s drink. “Generally, I try to avoid ladies coming to blows at my parties.”
This conversation seemed far too casual in light of what had happened earlier. Eugenie Raines had insulted a six-year-old girl! She had purposefully drawn attention to Octavia Staunton’s status as governess in the household, and slung barbs at Cassandra, whose only crime had been defending poor Leah.
Wade did not intend to play nice with the Raineses. “I’d pay good money to see your country governess wallop that slithering serpent.”
