Page 96 of Impassioned
Sabrina laughed softly. “No, I’m not sure it will either. But I don’t mind, do you?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
The coach had pulled abreast of the entrance to the house and a moment later, the groom opened the door. Constantine stepped out and helped Sabrina to the ground. She was even more stunning than normal due to the glow that Constantine was certain emanated from the child she carried.
Offering his arm, he guided her to the house, and they made their way through the receiving line and into the ballroom. “Shall we find Cass?” he asked, surveying the large space for his sister.
“Yes. I daresay your aunt has likely already abandoned her.”
“Indeed, she has. Cass and Miss Lancaster are near that large potted palm.” He led Sabrina through the crowd to where the two young women stood.
Cassandra’s eyes lit as they approached. “Thank goodness you are here. I can’t tell you how happy I was to receive your note, Sabrina.” Sabrina had written to tell her that she would continue to act as a sponsor, even if she didn’t officially carry that title.
“You look awfully relieved,” Constantine said. “Has something happened with Aunt Christina?”
“Nothing outside of the usual.” Cassandra glowered toward some distant point across the room. “She is mostly worthless as a sponsor, and why Father doesn’t see that, I don’t know.” She turned her attention to Sabrina, her eyes narrowed in frustration. “I am still quite furious with him for removing you as my sponsor. I am so angry, in fact, that I’ve half a mind to marry the next man I see. We’ll dash off to Gretna Green as my dear friend Fiona did.”
“Did I hear my name?” A red-haired young woman stepped out from behind the potted palm. At her side was the Earl of Overton, her new husband. Constantine couldn’t help but remember the very last time he’d seen them—some four weeks before. He could scarcely believe how much had changed in such a short time.
Cassandra had let out a delighted shriek, and she and Lady Overton were now embracing in a thoroughly inappropriate manner given their surroundings. Constantine was surprised to find he didn’t care.
“Good evening, Overton,” he said, hoping they could forget or at least ignore their encounter at the Phoenix Club those weeks ago. “May I offer my heartfelt congratulations to you and Lady Overton?”
Overton shook Constantine’s hand, showing no indication he recalled their meeting. “Thank you, I am glad to have them.” He introduced his new wife to Sabrina.
“I’m so pleased to meet Cassandra’s good friend,” Sabrina said.
Cassandra took Lady Overton’s hand. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re back. The last few weeks have been quite trying. There is so much to tell you. And, of course, I must hear all about your trip.” She grinned. “You’re a countess now!”
Lady Overton laughed. “Yes. It’s rather bizarre,” she added in a near whisper. “You didn’t become betrothed while I was away, did you?”
“No, but it’s not for my father’s lack of pressure on the matter. If I don’t wed by June, he’s threatened to marry me off to some indeterminate gentleman.” Cassandra glanced toward Sabrina. “Isn’t that right?”
“So he said,” she exchanged a look with Constantine, and they silently communicated that they wouldn’t allow that to happen.
Cassandra’s gaze gleamed with determination. “I’ve decided I’m going to marry the next man I encounter. I hope he’s especially roguish. Father will hate that.”
“Overton, you’ve returned!” Lord Wexford came toward them, his handsome face bright with a wide grin. He clapped Overton on the shoulder. “Welcome home.” He bowed to Lady Overton. “My lady, you are a vision of newlywed loveliness. My congratulations to you both.”
Miss Lancaster leaned close to Cassandra and whispered something that made Cassandra laugh softly. She nodded in response before addressing Wexford.
“My lord, I think you should dance with me.”
Overton pivoted toward her, his brow creasing. “Ah, perhaps you’d like to dance with me instead?”
Cassandra flashed him a smile. “Thank you, but I think it must be Wexford. In the meantime, let us take a turn, shall we?” She took the Irishman’s arm, and they began a promenade about the room.
Constantine wondered what his sister was up to and wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know. A few hours later, he handed Sabrina into their coach and climbed in after her, his feet aching from dancing with her, which he hadn’t done in ages. He kicked off his dancing slippers and wiggled his toes.
She stared at his stockinged feet. “Did you just take your shoes off?”
“I did.”
“First you danced with me and now this. You continue to astonish me, my lord.”
“You aren’t supposed to address me like that anymore.” He sounded cranky and immediately regretted his tone. “I meant that in jest, but that came out wrong. I suppose that’s because I really do prefer that you call me by my name when we are alone.”
She turned toward him on the seat and put her hand on his chest, her fingers diving beneath his waistcoat and pressing against him. “Constantine, I adore you so.”
