Jane leaned forward as if she were about to impart a huge secret. “Why don’t weaskCass what he said to her?”
They all turned to face Cass, who had just returned from the dance floor herself. She stared at the floor and shuffled her slippers beneath her gown.
“What is it, Cass?” Lucy asked. “What did he say?”
“He asked if I would go out onto the terrace with him and have a refreshment,” Cass replied.
The Miltons had set up their refreshment table outside under the stars, and a steady stream of partygoers came in and out of the open French doors that led to the terrace.
“And you said yes?” Lucy gave her friend a disapproving stare.
Cass nodded guiltily. “I didn’t want to be rude. Besides, Mother was glaring at me. She makes me so nervous.”
Lucy tossed a hand in the air. “Cassandra Monroe. I don’t understand you at all. You’ve turned down more suitors than I can shake a stick at yet this one seems to be too much for you.”
Cass covered her face with her hands. “I know. I know. But I’ve always turned down everyone quite politely. The duke doesn’t seem to accept that.”
Lucy nodded. “He refuses to take no for an answer. He may be a duke but he’s no gentleman.”
“You cannot blame the chap for trying,” Garrett added with a smile in Cass’s direction, one that made her turn a lovely shade of pink.
“Don’t worry, Lucy. You’ve done quite enough to help me already. I won’t ask you to come with me this time,” Cass said. “I shall do my best on my own.”
Lucy shook her head. “I’ll come with you all right. I’ll come with you and give him a piece of my mind. In fact, I have an idea.” She grabbed Cass’s hand and stalked off.
Garrett and Jane watched them go.
“Do be gentle with the poor man. He’s only a war hero, Luce, he may not be used to your ruthless tactics,” Jane called after her.
Lucy turned back to face her friend and winked at her over her shoulder.
***
Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek as she stared out the French doors to the Miltons’ terrace. There he was. The Duke of Claringdon. Waiting for Cass and looking deuced handsome.
“Aren’t we going out?” Cass asked, paused at her side.
“Not yet,” Lucy replied, still tapping her cheek.
“Why not?” Cass wrinkled her brow.
“Because… I’m thinking…”
Cass’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Lucy? What do you intend to do?”
Lucy paced back and forth in front of the doors. “Cass. Last night it was obvious that you cannot repeat my words. You’re too… too… nice for your own good.”
Cass nodded. “I know. And I hate myself for it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help. But if we’re going to truly dissuade the duke, we need to be more forceful with him. Blunt. Honest. Forthright.” Lucy nodded.
“I know that, Lucy, and I intend to try, truly, but I—”
Lucy swung around, her silver skirts brushing her ankles. “Here’s what I propose. There’s a balcony above the terrace over to the side above the garden. We’ll go up there. I’ll hide behind you where he cannot see and I’ll speak for you this time.”
Cass shook her head. “Speak for me? I don’t understand.”
“You’ll be there. He’ll think it’s you speaking, but it will truly be me.”
