Page 18 of Intolerable
“You say a great many things,” Cassandra muttered. “Fair warning, Papa wasn’t pleased that you didn’t come to the house to escort us. That can’t happen again.”
Nodding, Aunt Christina pivoted toward the staircase. “Of course. It was a special situation this evening. Come, let us go up to the drawing room.” She gestured for Cassandra to precede her.
“Do you plan to abandon me immediately, or will you linger in guilt since you didn’t arrive with us?” Cassandra asked.
Aunt Christina sighed rather dramatically. “I neverabandonyou. Can you honestly say you want me glued to your side at these events?”
Frustratingly, she had a point. However, was it so difficult to check in periodically? To ensure all was well? To perhaps encourage the attendance of suitors?
Not that Cassandra understood how that should happen exactly. Was Aunt Christina, as her sponsor, supposed to recruit potential suitors and send them in Cassandra’s direction? That’s what many mothers with daughters on the Marriage Mart did. Cassandra couldn’t help wondering, for the hundredth time, what her mother would do if she were here.
A familiar ache, not unlike the one she’d experienced in the coach spread across her ribs.
“Perhaps you might point me in the direction of a potential suitor or two?” Cassandra suggested as they arrived in the drawing room. Guests milled about perusing various pieces of art that the Farrowbys had on display for tonight’s rout.
“I’ll try.” Aunt Christina’s focus was already elsewhere, and Cassandra knew there would be little to no attempt made.
Cassandra briefly touched her aunt’s forearm. “I do hope you’ll be accompanying us back to Grosvenor Square. That would satisfy my father.” The implication was clear.
“Certainly! Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Aunt Christina bustled away, leaving Cassandra and Prudence alone as usual.
“Shall we try to find Lady Aldington or perhaps Lady Overton?” Prudence asked.
“Fiona won’t like it that you’re calling her that.” Cassandra linked her arm through Prudence’s. “Yes, let us go on the hunt for welcome faces.”
As they started into the room, they nearly collided with a rather rotund gentleman. Cassandra recalled having been introduced to him earlier in the Season. Mr. Philip Trowley, a widower around forty years of age, bowed. His head glistened with perspiration and his nose was rather rosy.
“Good evening, Lady Cassandra. What a pleasure to see you here.” He didn’t so much as flick a glance toward Prudence, but his gaze did dip downward over Cassandra’s chest.
Cassandra clenched her teeth briefly. “Mr. Trowley, allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Lancaster.”
His eyes darted at Prudence. “Evening.” He returned his full attention to Cassandra, his lips parting in a jovial smile that revealed even, but stained teeth. His eyes, however, retained a leering quality that made Cassandra want to flee. Or perhaps kick him in the leg, particularly if he focused on her breasts again. “Would you care to promenade with me, Lady Cassandra?”
Cassandra sent Prudence a desperate glance that silently but clearly screamed help. Prudence leaned close and whispered, “Just tell him you’ve already arranged to meet with someone, but you’d be delighted to see him later.”
“Brilliant,” Cassandra murmured as she scanned the drawing in room in the hope of finding that “someone.”
Her gaze fell on Wexford, and her pulse quickened while a shiver danced across her shoulders. She gave Trowley a dazzling smile. “I’m afraid I’m already engaged for the moment. Perhaps I will see you later.”
Disappointment flashed across his features, but he masked it quickly. “I will look forward to it.” He took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “I thought I might discuss paying a call on you later in the week. I believe we have much in common.”
Cassandra couldn’t imagine what. “Well, that sounds…fascinating. Good evening, Mr. Trowley.”
She and Prudence moved past him, and Cassandra couldn’t see Wexford anymore. Turning her head, she searched for his black hair, but it was as if he’d vanished.
“Looking for someone?” The Viscount Glastonbury asked with a smile in his voice.
“You.” Cassandra smiled through the fib.
“I’m flattered.” He looked to Prudence. “Good evening, Miss Lancaster.” His gaze darted behind them. “I saw Trowley approach you and thought you might require rescuing. However, you seem to have rescued yourself.” His blue-green eyes shone with approval.
“How gallant of you. Yes, Trowley asked to promenade and I’m afraid I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“He’s on the hunt for a mother for his brood. But I suspect you know that. You likely have a chart of eligible bachelors at home detailing their information.” He winked at her.
“I don’t, but I’m sure other young ladies do.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or, more accurately, their mothers do.”
Again, she thought of her mother and what she would be doing now. How Cassandra wished she were here. Instead, she had a father who was good at ignoring her until he demanded she marry, two brothers who’d always been involved in their own lives, and a vain, distracted aunt. At least she had a caring companion. Cassandra hoped Prudence truly liked her despite being paid to do so.
