The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(23)
“Hmm. That’s a good point, Jane,” Lucy said.
“No!” Cass gulped. “Don’t tell Garrett. And might I remind you that I want to tell the truth.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Not really,” Lucy replied. “If we’d told Julian the truth that day at Pen’s, he would have demanded she come downstairs and those two would be planning their engagement right now. He would have greeted you, wished he could have you, and set about doing the honorable thing and preparing for his wedding with your cousin.”
“And somehow a house party is supposed to change all of that?” Jane asked, skepticism dripping from her voice.
“It’s supposed to provide the opportunity to change all of that,” Lucy replied. “Two people need time to get to know each other. If Cass and Julian had merely talked briefly at Pen’s house, they would have gone their separate ways and not seen each other again until the wedding. The wrong wedding.”
“But I already know Julian. And I certainly don’t expect it to change anything,” Cass argued. “And no to that gown.”
Lucy tossed the peach gown on the pile with the rest of them. “Of course you know him, dear, but he doesn’t know you’re Cass. He only knows you’re beautiful. Besides, don’t worry about all of that now. Leave everything to me.”
Lucy’s infamous second-favorite saying. Cass glanced at Jane and shook her head.
Jane merely shrugged, drew her book up to her nose, and began reading. “As usual, I’m certain this is all to become much more complicated before it becomes simpler.”
Cass sighed. “Wait until she tells you about how Julian wants to invite Owen.”
Jane snapped her book shut. “Owen?”
“And Lucy said it was a lovely idea,” Cass added.
The book toppled from Jane’s hands. She tried to grab for it but it landed with a thud on the carpet. “You did not!”
“I’ll explain it to you later,” Lucy replied, flourishing a hand in the air. “Now, don’t worry, Cass. Once Julian spends a bit of time in your company, he’ll be questioning his commitment to Pen. Also, our little plan serves to keep him away from her so that they are unable to make it official just yet.”
Cass pulled a silver gown from the cabinet. “This one!”
“Ooh, it is perfect,” Lucy agreed.
“Yes, that one,” Jane added, reaching down to retrieve her book.
Cass sighed again wistfully and looked out the window across the autumnal countryside. A forest of trees met her eyes all in various stages of turning red, and gold, and orange. The leaves had already begun to fall, turning the ground beneath them into a painter’s palette of lovely colors. Cass sighed once more. How she wished she could be outside painting the quiet landscape instead of being inside in the middle of a sordid affair. She shook her head. “My aunt and uncle will no doubt disown me if they ever find out. To say nothing of what my parents will do to me. Why, they’ll probably send me off to a convent.”
“You should be so lucky.” Jane snorted. “But don’t worry. They would never be so kind as to send you to a convent. You’re worth far more to them as marriageable chattel, darling. Not to mention you aren’t Catholic.” She laughed.
Lucy laughed, too.
Cass hugged the silver gown to her chest, heedless of the wrinkles she was no doubt inflicting upon the fine fabric. It was depressing, but true. She was worth more to her parents as an object to be traded into marriage. She’d always known that but somehow Janie saying it out loud made it real and undeniable. Her parents sending her to a convent would be the equivalent of giving away an enormously expensive jewel to charity. She took a deep breath. “Nevertheless, if my parents do find out—”
Lucy pulled the silver gown from her grasp and rang for one of the maids to press it. “Oh, Cass. How many times must I tell you to stop worrying? How would they ever find out?”
CHAPTER NINE
Cass stood on the sidelines of the dancing. Lucy had somehow managed to persuade a few neighbors to come to the dance. None of them knew Captain Swift and all of them apparently were willing to refer to Lucy as Lady Worthing. Lucy herself had come up with an outlandish tale for Julian’s sake of how her husband, Lord Worthing, had gone to visit his gout-ridden mother in Bath and that’s why he was not here to help his wife host the house party. Later, when they were safely alone, Cass had pointed out to Lucy that gentlemen, not ladies, were usually afflicted by gout and Lucy had simply replied, “Oh, I’ve always wished gout upon my mother and now she has it, by God.”
All in all, Cass had to admit that despite her worries, the dance was going quite well so far. Julian had been laughing and talking with the other guests and appeared to be enjoying himself. She tried not to glance in his direction too often. He was handsome, so unbearably handsome. And the time away at war had done nothing to detract from his looks.
But it was more than that. She knew him, knew his secrets, knew his heart. In one of his letters, he’d told her how he’d sat in a ditch next to a man named Robert Covington and written a letter to his mother for him as he lay dying.
In his letter to Cass, Julian had told her that when he was thirsty and hungry and cold, it was more difficult for him to watch his soldiers go thirsty or hungry or cold. How it felt as if a little piece of him died when any of them were left behind. She’d seen him mature through his writing. She’d watched him change from a young man full of bravado and pride for his country to a seasoned veteran who’d seen far too much of the horrors of war. And even though he was careful not to share the truly awful details, Cass knew they haunted him each night. They would haunt him forever.