Page 39 of Impassioned
“Your brother is a wastrel who squandered a promising military career, while your sister, who is arguably the prettiest young lady to grace Society in a number of years, has no suitors!” He slapped his hand on the desk to punctuate his frustration.
“As it happens, my errand today involves Cassandra. Lady Aldington has offered to take over as her sponsor, and I think it’s a capital idea.”
The duke’s mouth opened as he stared at Constantine for a moment. “No. That’s a terrible idea.”
Suddenly, the notion that the duke was somehow behind the countess’s return to town seemed utterly silly. Which meant she was acting entirely on her own. Constantine would contemplate that later. His father continued, “Lady Aldington is far too timid to assume that role. If she were a man, I’d call her a milksop.”
Constantine frowned, a mild display of the reaction he felt. What he wanted was to tell his father to shut his insulting mouth. “I find your description of my wife ironic given you insisted I marry her.”
“You are well aware that she had to be forced into it.” His father wiped his hand over his eyes. “I regret that I chose poorly for you.”
“Perhaps you should have let her cry off then,” Constantine said frigidly.
“And suffer the scandal of it?” The duke shook his head. “Never. Though, given that she hasn’t been able to provide an heir, perhaps I should have considered it.”
The anger simmering inside Constantine boiled into a fury. He should have expected this. His father had voiced his disappointment more than once.
“Do you suppose she’s incapable?” The duke asked, seemingly unaware of Constantine’s ire. “Her mother had six children who survived to adulthood, and her older sister has already birthed several babes. In fact, I think her younger sister, who wed last season, has also delivered a child. That would be most unfortunate if you ended up with the invalid.”
Constantine gritted his teeth. “She is not an invalid. Furthermore, she’s no longer timid. She is eager to act as Cassandra’s sponsor, and she is up to the task.” He would ensure she was. There was no way he would let her fail in his father’s eyes. Which meant he supposed he couldn’t let her fail in her duties either. He would bloody well give her a child.
“Why? She has no social skills. She’ll do nothing to contribute to Cassandra’s husband hunt.”
“In fact, last night at the Kipley rout she was most scintillating. She’s matured, Father, and you must admit that Aunt Christina has demonstrated a lack of ability when it comes to shepherding Cassandra.”
The duke scowled. He had to be aware of his sister’s foibles, and yet he didn’t seem to care while picking everyone else apart for theirs.
“You aren’t at the balls and routs,” Constantine continued. “You don’t see how Christina abandons Cassandra and barely pays her any mind.”
“That’s why she has a companion now.”
“Is her companion to be facilitating dances with prominent gentlemen and encouraging promenades?”
The duke’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked in a breath, and the hand that had remained atop the desk fisted. “I will speak with my sister on this matter. Now explain to me why I am hearing murmurs that you may not be in support of the Importation Act.”
It was as if Constantine was still a lad, defending his every decision, which his father had said was necessary so that he could ensure his heir was developing the appropriate capabilities. As an adult, he’d continued to answer his father’s demands, but in this case, he would almost certainly disappoint the duke who was in favor of the law. The act would impose tariffs on foreign grain in an effort to maintain prices of domestic grain so as not to bankrupt English farmers. Those in opposition, such as Constantine’s friend Brightly, argued the law would increase prices, which would hurt the laboring class.
Constantine was leaning toward voting with Brightly but wasn’t going to tell his father that. “I have been focusing my energy on the apothecaries bill.” His father should have been too, after what had happened to his wife.
“Well, divert your attention to the bloody Importation Act. It will be up for vote soon, and I expect you will support it.”
“Just as I expect you to support Lady Aldington as Cassandra’s sponsor. She will do an excellent job. Imagine what could happen under Christina’s lack of supervision. What if Cassandra was lured into a compromising position?”
The duke’s dark brows pitched into an angry V. “Then that would be your sister’s fault, not Christina’s. Bender!” He bellowed the last.
A moment later, the butler stepped into the study. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Send for Lady Cassandra at once.”
Too late, Constantine realized the trouble he’d caused. Goddammit. He turned to Bender. “Don’t bother.” Directing a glare at his father, Constantine clenched his jaw. “Cassandra hasn’t done anything wrong, nor will she. This conversation is about your sister and her failure as a sponsor. Give Lady Aldington a chance, and if you are unsatisfied with her performance, by all means go back to Aunt Christina.” Oh hell, Constantine had just set his wife up to be sharply scrutinized by the most demanding of men.
After sending a dismissive nod to Bender, the duke sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowing in irritated contemplation. “Why are you pressing this matter so hard? I didn’t think you cared much for your wife, yet here you are acting like her champion.”
Constantine almost asked why he would think he didn’t care. However, the answer seemed obvious. To any outsider—hell, to his wife—it would seem as though that were the case.
Did she care about him? She’d come here and demanded an heir. If she despised him and was still willing to do her duty, for whatever reason, including her own desire to be a mother, he had to give her credit.
He ought to credit her for more than that, and not just because he was fairly sure shedidn’tdespise him. Which was why he was fighting so hard for her to be Cassandra’s sponsor. They may not be close, but he’d made vows to her and it was time he kept them.
