Page 31 of Intolerable
He wouldn’t break the vow he’d given his father. He hadn’t done it yet, and he wouldn’t now. Not even for Cassandra. Especially not for her. He’d do whatever necessary to guard her heart from his perfidy.
Chapter 8
Cassandra arrived at the Phoenix Club assembly with Prudence and Fiona. There was something exciting about the Phoenix Club. It was the exclusivity, certainly, but also the opulent interior with its glittering chandeliers, magnificent art, and beautiful décor. That it was a private club that allowed both men and women also added to its incredible appeal. But perhaps what was most alluring to Cassandra was the time she’d spent in a dark cupboard with the Earl of Wexford.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t think of that, and within two minutes of entering the club, the incident had already invaded her brain.
“How absurd is it that I’m allowed to chaperone you,” Fiona noted with a giggle as they moved through the foyer toward the ballroom. “Last time we were here, we were both unwed.”
“Society’s rules are often absurd,” Prudence observed.
Cassandra inclined her head in agreement. “Too true.” She looked toward Fiona. “I’m so glad I was able to come with you tonight. I confess I would have been sick with envy if you’d come without me. Alas, you will at some point, as you are a member and I am not.”
“Perhaps your father will allow you to come every week,” Fiona said.
All three ladies stared at each other then burst into laughter. They strolled into the ballroom—the half that served as a place to mingle and sample refreshments. The other half—on the men’s side—was where the dancing took place. Music carried through the doors that opened to join both sides into one large space.
Fiona leaned close to Cassandra. “I can’t help remembering when we were here that day pretending to clean the floor. Well,youwere pretending. I actually cleaned it a bit.” She didn’t try to keep Prudence from overhearing because she already knew about it. In fact, she’d been the one to tell them about the maid costumes—the gray gown with green apron.
“Did you?” Cassandra laughed lightly. “I’m afraid I was too distracted by the splendor. I knew Lucien had spared no expense, but I didn’t realize just how lovely it would be.”
Seeing the interior had been the primary reason for their ruse. “I still can’t believe we dressed up as maids.” Fiona put her hand to her cheek briefly. “That seems so foolish now, and yet if we hadn’t done it, I would not have kissed Tobias in the garden. We may not even be married.”
And Cassandra would not have kissed Wexford. Heat rose up her neck, and she hoped neither of her companions noticed. She’d never told either of them what had happened because of the promise she and Wexford had made to each other. She wouldn’t break their agreement. Unless it was to kiss him again, which they’d also, implicitly, agreed not to do.
Many times, she’d considered revealing her secret to Fiona, particularly when Fiona had confessed that she’d kissed Overton—which she hadn’t done immediately either. But Cassandra had remained silent and continued to do so. Now she felt bad about not telling her. And yet, at this point, she doubted she ever would. What would be the point? It was a pleasant memory and nothing more. She needed to focus on Glastonbury.
Would he even be here? She’d heard nothing from Lucien other than he was working on it, which he’d sent in a missive that afternoon. He’d also told her to just come to the assembly, that he would handle their father if necessary. Cassandra only hoped she wasn’t going to be burdened with the duke’s presence at every ball for the rest of the Season.
Fiona and Prudence were, of course, well aware of the Glastonbury Plan, as Cassandra had taken to calling it. She scanned the ballroom but couldn’t find him. Nor did she locate Wexford. Or Lucien.
She did, however, see her sister-in-law, Sabrina, as well as Mrs. Renshaw. The two ladies came straight toward them.
“How lovely you look in that coral gown,” Sabrina said.
“Not as splendid as you. That peacock blue is stunning. Your wardrobe this Season is a cut above everyone else’s. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Sabrina, who struggled with the attention that came with being a countess, blushed. She’d been working to overcome the anxiety she felt in large crowds, something she’d only recently shared with Cassandra. “So Evie keeps telling me.”
“She assures me I’m mistaken,” Evie said with a smile. “Our Sabrina is as modest—and genuinely so—as they come. You also look lovely, Lady Overton.” Her gaze flicked to Fiona who inclined her head.
“Thank you, Mrs. Renshaw. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I trust you had a wonderful wedding trip.”
Cassandra grinned. “What a clever way to say elopement.”
Lucien bore down on them, joining their group between Prudence and Sabrina. “Good evening, Cass. I’m pleased to say Glastonbury has received and accepted his invitation.”
“He’ll be here?” Cassandra felt a swell of relief.
“He said he would.” Lucien moved to stand beside her. He added in a low tone, “There is a plan to ensure you and Glastonbury dance and have some time together this evening, so that you may get to know him better.”
“Indeed?”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
It was, but she caught sight of Wexford from the corner of her eye and a pang of disappointment chilled her spine. “Thank you, Lu. It sounds as if the Glastonbury Plan is well underway.”
