“It’s nothing to do with you.” She snatched her elbow out of his grip. “In any case, it’s a dance, Lord Windham, not a betrothal.”
Cass dragged a hand through his hair, setting the dark strands on end, and for an instant, with his hair freed from its ruthlessly fashionable style, she saw a hint of the boy she’d once loved so well.
He was still there, hiding underneath Lord Windham’s cool, smooth surface, and even that brief glimpse of him made her heart flutter in her chest. “It’s not as if I’ll be in any danger in a crowded ballroom, Cass.”
“I don’t like it, Hattie. I don’t like it at all.”
She shrugged. “You might have prevented it, you know.”
He gave her a sulky look. “I don’t see how.”
“It’s quite simple, Lord Windham. You might have asked me to dance yourself.”
She didn’t wait for his reply but turned on her heel and marched after Lady Fosberry and her sisters, but she couldn’t quite smother a rush of satisfaction at his speechlessness.
Yes, a little humility would do very well for the handsome, elegant Earl of Windham.
As soon as they were all safely tucked into the privacy of Lady Fosberry’s carriage, Sarah, who’d never been one to mincewords asked, “Who was that awful woman and her equally awful daughter?”
“That’s unkind of you, Sarah.” But Margaret’s scold was half-hearted, and she added, “They were rather dreadful, weren’t they?”
“My dears, you have no idea. I assure you that Lady Tremblay is a plague upon London, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. She’s the scourge of theton, and her daughter, Lady Laetitia is scarcely any better, though she’s more adept at hiding her vitriol than her mother is.”
“Not that adept.” Sarah fell back against the squabs with a huff. “She looked at Hattie as if she’d happily snatch every hair from her head. She’s very pretty, but I’d wager my best bonnet she has an ugly heart.”
“Yes, it’s rather a dark, withered thing, I’m afraid.” Lady Fosberry darted a glance at Hattie. “If the gossips are to be believed, Lord Windham is considering courting her this season.”
Hattie froze. Had she heard that right? Cass,courtingLady Laetitia?
But that was impossible! Why, not half an hour ago he’d been kissing her most ardently in the lilac walk! What sort of gentleman kissed one lady while intending to soon begin courting another?
And why Lady Laetitia, of all people? Why, Cass had a nerve warning her away from Lord Egerton when he was considering courting such a viper as Lady Laetitia!
Was her face as red as the heat in her cheeks hinted it was?
It must have been, because Lady Fosberry hastened to add, “It’s just gossip, and as likely to be nonsense astongossip generally proves to be. I believe Lord Windham’s father favored the match.”
“Yes, but he’s dead, isn’t he? I shouldn’t think he’d have much say in it, being as dead as he is.”
“Sarah!” Margaret turned to her sister, but a laugh escaped her before she could gather her breath to scold. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Well, my dears, we’ll cross our fingers that it’s just gossip.” Lady Fosberry squeezed Hattie’s hand. “Perhaps Lord Windham has made some mistakes, but he in no way deserves to be cursed with such an arrogant, disagreeable wife.”
“No, indeed,” Margaret replied, and Sarah nodded in agreement.
But Hattie didn’t say a word.
It was true, what Lady Fosberry said. Cass deserved much better than Lady Laetitia, but even in death, his father still had a hold on him. The question was, how far beyond the grave would the late Earl of Windham’s wickedness reach?
Cass’s future happiness might depend on the answer.
She turned to gaze out the window, her head spinning as London rolled by on the other side of the glass.
“What the devilis going on between you and Lady Harriet, Windham?”
Of all the questions Hayward might have asked, he’d landed on the one Cass had no idea how to answer. So, he lied. “Not a thing. I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hayward.”
“No? That’s odd, Windham. Indeed, the circumstances say otherwise.”
