In the drawing room, Cecilia graciously accepted the cup of tea from the hostess and took a seat beside the dowager. She shot a fleeting look to the sideboard laden with cakes, sliced fruits, and a cold collation before focusing on the elderly countess.
“I can understand if this might be an imposition,” Cecilia tempered down the nervous flutter inside her chest. “But could you tell me more about Cassian’s mother? He…” She chose her words carefully, “—it's still painful for him to talk about her.”
Dowager Hortense added a splash of cream to her drink. “Lady Marianne was a dreamer. She had the heart of an angel and the grace of a dancer. Her father was an astronomer, and she helped him with his telescopes and instruments.
“She wrote stories about the stars, sagas of heroes, poems on the myths of the cosmos,” the dowager smiled in nostalgia. “She played the piano like a maestro. Her favorite song wasAve Verum Corpusby Mozart, and she played it so many times she did not need sheet music for it.”
Cecilia swallowed and looked into the pale depths of her tea.Ave Verum Corpus. I need to remember that.“She seems like an… incredible lady.”
Lady Hortense smiled with a touch of pride, “She was indeed.”
“Pardon me.” A lady, tall and thin in a pale bronze gown, neared their table and curtsied. “I could not help but overhear your conversation about Lady Marianne. She was a dear friend of mine from the schoolroom. May I join you?”
“Please,” Cecilia replied. “I would love your company, Lady...”
“Theodosia,” the other woman smiled, though her sharp blue eyes held deep sorrow. “Marianne was an original if you had ever seen one. She did not dance to the beat of anyone else’s drum, only her own.”
“She was also delicate,” the dowager nodded. “Sickness of the lungs, you know.”
Cecilia felt her lungs constrict. “Is that what…”
“Sadly, yes,” Hortense nodded. “One fateful winter, she caught consumption and never recovered.”
Sorrow and grief sank her stomach to the pit of her belly, and it took all her strength to finish her cup. She let out a long breath and then sat back. “I appreciate you telling me these things.”
“’Tis only fair that we help you along the way,” Lady Theodosia replied warmly. “When I was as you are, I felt lost at times. It is only fair that we, older women who have walked the path, give the younger ones directions. Age differences aside, we ought to have a sisterhood amongst us.”
Cecilia’s eyes landed on a familiar face, Lady Jane Ashwood, the Diamond-of-the-First-Water that Gabriel had courted a year before her. The lady was happily married, but a thought began to grow in the back of her mind.
As a matter of fact, when she turned her head, she spotted Catherine Cavendish, neé Lewis; another former debutante Gabriel had courted.
A sisterhood, you say.
The butler entered the drawing room and bowed, “Pardon me, my ladies, but his lordship is asking everyone to come to the music room for a parting toast before we leave.”
A rustle ran through the room before the ladies set their cups down on their saucers and wiped their mouths before standing. Cecilia followed the calm queue and entered a substantive music room, the calm blue wallpaper, a lovely shade against the dark musical instruments.
Once again, waiters meandered the room with trays of champagne and water, while the men and women made mixed groups. She spotted Cassian entering the room with a cup in hand. From the dark hue inside, it was whisky or brandy.
The man does love his dark liquor.
She turned her attention back to the plan percolating in the back of her head and headed to speak to Lady Jane first before Catherine.
“Lady Jane,” she approached the stunning brunette. “Do you have a moment?”
After tightening the wrap around her shoulders, the viscountess smiled and curtsied. “Your Grace, of course. I have all the time you need.”
She swallowed. “It is about Lord Whitmore. I don’t know if you are aware—”How could she not be? He has been weaponizing the newspapers against me,“—but he has been trying to denigrate me for the past few weeks.”
Lady Jane’s jaw ticked. “I have seen the drivel, Your Grace, and I am not sure if you know, but that hussy he is with now has also amassed a cavalry to push the lies even further. Half the ladies who are, well, frankly, bitter, are so eager to paint you as the villain.”
Relief washed over Cecilia as she felt—faintly—that she had an ally on her side. Not only was it in Lady Jane’s denigrating tone about Ophelia Hawthorne, but her scathing snub with the wordhussysaid it all.
“I think you and I need to talk,” Cecilia said. “I fully intend to invite Lady Catherine too.”
A flicker of Lady Jane’s lips made Cecilia feel more hope. “For what, may I ask?”
“I—” Cecilia paused. Whatdidshe want? “I just need to see if we have enough in common so I can not only refute his claims but turn the tides on him, too.”
