“Could you imagine?” she laughed. “Well, I can lend you the book I am reading right now, if you wish. I have brought it with me, and I do not suppose that I shall have much time for it.”
Cassandra did not suppose that her new friend would have much time for it either, given the number of people asking after them. Cassandra did not mind the questions at all, for she had nothing to hide; the trouble was that nobody was asking her their questions. Instead, they whispered them among themselves as though she were not there at all.
“I was hoping to speak to you about all of that,” Philippa admitted. “I have so much to ask you, but I have a feeling that you do not particularly like everything that has happened.”
“It is not ideal, but I cannot change it. To be entirely honest, I would have been quite content to have never married at all, but if I am to be marched down the aisle, your brother is not the most objectionable man. I may yet find a redeeming quality of his.”
“High praise indeed.”
“The highest he shall be afforded, I am afraid.”
Philippa laughed at that, which given that she had just been unkind about her brother, Cassandra appreciated it. She was not finding humor in her brother being labelled as an acceptable match, but that Cassandra was willing to say it, and Cassandra was quite pleased about that.Unfortunately, she had not been entirely honest.
There were not many people that appreciated her mannerisms, and with her friends marrying off and leaving her alone, she was grateful that, if she ended up marrying His Grace, she would at least have a friend.
But if she could avoid it, she knew that she would.
“And I am not pleased with what Sylvia did,” Philippa continued. “You may not be angry with her, but I am. We ladies should support one another, not try to cause ruin.”
“You must not be too unkind in your thoughts. The truth is, I should not have been doing what I was doing with your brother, even if nothing untoward would ever have happened. I knew the risks, and yet… I am furious with myself for it, and perhaps she could have been more gracious toward me, but what happened was not her fault.”
“You are kinder than my brother suggested.”
Before Cassandra could ask her precisely what the Duke had said of her, they were summoned to dinner. It was an excellent meal, and though Cassandra was quite convinced that she would find away to escape the arrangement, she had to admit that she would have found peace as Duchess if it meant eating that well often.
When it was done, Cassandra placed her napkin carefully beside her plate, conscious of how many eyes followed even that small movement. They all thought her a villain for trapping a hapless gentleman, though not one person was brave enough to say it to her. She had felt the Dowager Duchess’ gaze on her throughout, sharp and appraising, as though she was testing Cassandra to see if she was worthy of her son.
Which, Cassandra knew, she never would be. It was not that she was not good enough to be a wife; Cassandra was not one to brag, but she knew objectively that she was a pretty enough lady that was accomplished and intelligent. The trouble was that she was not a duchess. She lacked the discipline and the poise and the refinement and a dozen other things that she knew she fell short of. She knew it, and so she did not blame the Dowager for seeing it too.
She should have known better than to expect the evening to end quietly.
As the guests began to leave, Lady Sylvia rose from her seat with a smile too pleased to be innocent. Cassandra watched as the Dowager’s eyes softened upon watching her, and there was a feeling that formed in her chest which she could not quite put a name to.
“If Your Grace permits,” Sylvia said, turning toward the head of the table, “I thought it might amuse everyone if we began the evening with a small diversion.”
“What did you have in mind?” the Duke asked. “It has been a long day, and I do not suppose that after so much traveling everyone would like to sleep late.”
“A fortune telling game. I know that people will be tired, and so I thought it would be pleasant to do something that was not serious. It is only a bit of fun.”
The Dowager Duchess nodded in approval, leading others to join her one by one.
“A charming idea.”
And so, a footman was summoned. A porcelain bowl appeared, filled with neatly folded slips of paper. Cassandra felt a tightening in her chest, knowing that she was not looked upon favorably by Lady Sylvia but also aware that she had been afforded certain protections as the apparent future Duchess.
Each guest was invited, one by one, to go to Lady Sylvia. She would then draw a fortune and hand it to them so that they could read it aloud. At first, it was harmless enough.
“You will take a journey,” a gentleman read, laughing. “I should hope so.”
“Unexpected joy awaits you,” another announced, earning polite applause.
Cassandra watched carefully as people took their turn. She considered turning her own down, but she did not want to slight anyone. She wanted to believe that it was good-natured, even if she knew that it was not. Her turn came, and Sylvia lingered over the papers, stirring them as she watched them intently, before choosing one for her and passing it along.
“You will find that reputation is easily lost and rarely recovered,” she read.
A ripple of laughter passed through the room. The Dowager Duchess smiled thinly, and Cassandra dared to look at the Duke, whose eyes were narrowed at Lady Sylvia. Cassandra was not one to feel shame easily, and that moment was no exception, but she knew she should have felt it.
She folded the paper and placed it in front of her, not wanting to give any inclination that she had been affected by it. The game continued, with Philippa being told that she would make an excellent match. There was light applause at that, but Cassandra could not help but notice the young lady’s discomfort. It was only slight, but it was there.
