Page 40 of The Lady's Last Mistake
She’d explained about the nun from St. Paul’s unknowingly giving away the location of the safe house to a woman connected to who they now presumed was the man from the alley, Mr. Young.
“We should ask Isabel about him. Maybe she feels safe enough to tell us more,” Cassie had suggested.
He’d not missed the way she’d included him in her plans.
“It would have been nice to know in advance where you were taking me tonight,” Cassie now said, dragging Grant back to where they were, inside Madame Archambeau’s vast manor. A short distance from Kensington Square, the home was fashionable and a bit wild. The city itself was a few miles east, and out here, it did feel more like countryside, with the spires of Town on the horizon.
“I thought I would surprise you,” he told her as they joined a circle of guests surrounding a statue. It looked to be carved from pink marble. It, and a number of other statues, had been placed on plinths inside the large gallery. Madame Archambeau was a great patron of the art.
“I don’t like surprises,” Cassie replied as two guests in front of them stepped aside, allowing them to move closer.
But then, she tugged on his arm to keep him from taking another step.
“Grant!” A blush tinged her cheeks. Following the direction of her shocked stare, he looked to the statue. And immediately understood her reaction.
The pink marble had been chiseled into a detailed carving of a man and woman. The woman was on her knees, her arms stretching up to clutch the man who stood behind her, bracing her between his legs. One of the man’s hands reached into her unbound hair, the other, cupped her breast. Their mutual expressions of rapture were well detailed.
“What kind of art is this?” she whispered, trying to tame her reaction when a few others glanced her way.
Grant drew her from the statue. “The kind that would never be admitted into the Royal Academy.”
She stole another look as he directed them toward a servant holding a tray of champagne. The servant wore all white livery, a white curled wig, and his skin had been dusted with white powder. Grant took two glasses from the unblinking man, who had been made to look like a statue himself and pressed one into Cassie’s hand.
“Madame Archambeau and her companion, Miss Stone, enjoy supporting anything polite society shuns,” he explained. “Which is the reason I’ve brought us here tonight.”
She sipped the champagne, her eyes peering around the gallery as though expecting to see more erotic sculptures. It was a good possibility she would.
“To show me indecent sculpture?”
He chuckled darkly, enjoying her scandalized reaction. “No, to introduce you to a potential benefactress.”
Champagne went down her throat too quickly, and she spluttered. Her blue irises, ringed with steel gray, met his, looking just as shocked as when she’d seen the statue. “For Hope House?”
He gave a nod. “And for my clinic.”
Cassie pondered that for a few moments as she cleared her throat.
“This is your next plan for if you do not receive a nephew,” she said astutely.
“An alternate solution, yes.”
Earlier that morning, James had called on Thornton House, and Grant had been reminded that he needed such a plan.
“The duke’s sister? Really?” his brother said as he’d strode into Grant’s study. “I heard Forsythe was pressing his suit.”
The idea of the handsome young heir pressing anything toward Cassie had made Grant scowl. “Haven’t heard of him,” he’d said.
“He has Fournier’s blessing.”
“But he does not have Lady Cassandra’s,” Grant replied lightly.
That Forsythe might still be lurking about once Grant was no longer in need of a fake courtship, and that Cassie might actually declare him acceptable, unexpectedly grated.
“Father is having a dinner at Lindstrom House next Monday,” James said.
Another dinner? Christ. Grant considered his next move. “Tell him to uninvite the debutantes, especially if one is Miss Green. I would like to introduce him to Lady Cassandra.”
James’s skeptical look had been sharp enough to drawblood. “If you have some gambit in mind, I advise you to think twice. The duke will not take kindly to his sister being used as a pawn.”
