"She has no shortage of confidence," Cassandra said diplomatically. "At Lady Pemberton's soirée, I watched her engage Lord Hartwick in conversation for a full twenty minutes."
"That sounds promising," Anthea said hopefully.
"It would be, except that Lord Hartwick spoke for approximately two of those twenty minutes." Cassandra's lips twitched. "Miss Poppy has strong opinions about everything from politics to poetry, and she is not shy about expressing them. At length. Without pause."
Anthea groaned. "Beatrice always said she talked too much."
"She is lively and intelligent," Cassandra said fairly. "And I confess I found her rather entertaining. But many gentlemen prefer to be the ones dominating conversation. She needs to learn when to pause and allow them to speak."
"So Veronica needs to talk more, and Poppy needs to talk less," Anthea summarized. "Wonderful."
"Do not despair," Cassandra said, rising to retrieve a folded piece of paper from her writing desk. "I took the liberty of compiling a list of potentially suitable gentlemen for your consideration. I have noted their ages, circumstances, and general temperament."
Anthea accepted the paper with genuine gratitude. "Thank you, Cassandra. Truly."
"There are several good options," Cassandra said, returning to her seat. "Mr. Christopher Whitmore has a pleasant disposition and sufficient fortune. Sir Edmund Blackwood is intelligent and well-read. Lord Ashworth is..." She paused. "Actually, Lord Ashworth might be perfect for Poppy. He seems to genuinely enjoy spirited conversation."
"The Viscount?" Anthea asked, scanning the list. "I believe he was at the ball last evening. He spoke with the Duke."
"Yes, and they served together briefly," Cassandra confirmed. "He is a good man, from what I understand. Not prone to the usual aristocratic nonsense."
Anthea studied the list, noting names and brief descriptions. There were perhaps a dozen gentlemen listed, each with careful notations about their character and circumstances. It was exactly what she needed.
"This is invaluable," she said sincerely. "I cannot thank you enough."
"You can thank me by telling me what you intend to do about the Duke," Cassandra said pointedly.
Anthea looked up sharply. "I beg your pardon?"
"The Duke of Everleigh," Cassandra said with exaggerated patience. "The man who called upon you this morning to offer marriage. The man you were caught alone with last evening. That Duke."
"I have not decided," Anthea said carefully.
"Have you not?" Cassandra studied her with uncomfortable perception. "Or have you decided to refuse him and simply have not admitted it to yourself yet?"
"I do not wish to marry," Anthea said, the words automatic after three years of repetition. "You know this, Cassandra."
"I know you have convinced yourself that you do not wish to marry," Cassandra corrected gently. "But circumstances have changed, have they not? You need to help your sisters. And becoming a Duchess would certainly provide you with the means and influence to do so."
"That is exactly what Beatrice wants," Anthea said bitterly. "To use my marriage to advance Poppy and Veronica."
"Does it matter what Beatrice wants if the outcome benefits your sisters?" Cassandra asked reasonably. "You are allowing your hatred of your stepmother to cloud your judgment."
The words struck uncomfortably close to the truth. Anthea set down her teacup with more force than strictly necessary.
"It is not merely about Beatrice," she said. "I do not trust the Duke. I do not trust any man, for that matter."
"Because of what happened with Lord Maxwell," Cassandra said quietly.
Anthea stiffened. "I never told you what happened with Lord Maxwell."
"You did not need to," Cassandra said. "I have eyes, Anthea. And I have heard the whispers. Something occurred three years ago that broke your faith in men and in romance. You have never confirmed what, and I have never pressed. But whatever it was, it has held you captive ever since."
Anthea felt her throat tighten. "He lied to me. Manipulated me. Made me believe—" She stopped, unable to continue.
"And you believe the Duke would do the same?" Cassandra asked.
"I do not know," Anthea admitted. "But I cannot risk it. Cannot risk trusting someone only to discover they were deceiving me all along."
