The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(25)

“Miss Wollstonecraft,” Jane interrupted, moving in front of Cass and curtsying, teacakes and all.

Cass had to smother her smile. She and Lucy had argued earlier with Jane about her desire to pretend to be someone she was not. “It’ll be better for everyone if only Cass and I have false names,” Lucy had said. “The less complicated the better.”

“I don’t care who it’s better for. Besides, when have you ever worried about anything being complicated?” Jane had countered. “I want a false name, too. I don’t see why you two get to make up new identities and I must be forced to be my same boring self.”

“You’re not boring, Jane,” Cass had replied, patting her friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, you’re sweet, Cass, but the fact is that the most excitement I’ve had in months is this mad house party and I’m not about to allow a perfectly good opportunity to pretend to be someone else go to waste.”

Apparently, Jane refused to be denied.

“Miss Wollstonecraft?” Julian bowed. “You don’t happen to be related to—”

“The famous author? Yes, actually. She is my aunt.”

Cass elbowed her in the ribs and Jane grunted. “This is Captain Julian Swift, Miss … Wollstonecraft,” Cass said.

“A pleasure, Captain,” Jane replied.

“The pleasure is entirely mine,” Julian said.

Jane mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “My word, he is handsome,” just before she inclined her head toward Cass. “Miss Bunbury here was just now telling me how desperately she loves to dance. I was telling her how desperately I love to eat teacake. And to that end, I’m off to find more. Good evening, Captain.”

Jane was gone in an instant and Cass was left startlingly alone with Julian. She began to tug at her glove again and stopped herself. Again.

“Do you enjoy dancing, Captain Swift?” Oh, now he was certain to think Miss Patience Bunbury was the most forward female in the country. An advantage to playacting, she supposed, the hint of a smile creeping across her lips. Lady Cassandra Monroe would never ask a gentleman if he liked to dance, but apparently Patience Bunbury would. It was freeing, actually, and quite bold, thank you very much. She just might be able to get used to this.

One of Julian’s golden eyebrows arched in the barest hint of acknowledgment of her cheekiness. “I do. Or, I used to. I cannot remember the last time I danced, actually. However, I’m not particularly adept at it, I’m afraid.”

“I heard the Duchess of Richmond gave a ball just before Waterloo,” Cass said. “Did you attend?”

He glanced down at his perfectly polished boots. “I did not.”

“Why not?” She actually knew why not, but Patience Bunbury didn’t. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.

Julian straightened up and cleared his throat. “On the eve of battle, I fear I was not in much of a dancing mood.”

“What were you doing?” Now here was something she didn’t know. But as soon as the words left her mouth, Cass wished she hadn’t spoken them. It was beyond rude of her to ask such a personal question. In addition to being cheeky, apparently Patience Bunbury was also a bit too forthright.

Julian slid his hands into his pockets and looked out across the ballroom as if he was surveying a battlefield. His eyes held a faraway look as if he was remembering that night. “I was writing … to a friend.”

Cass nearly gasped. Stay calm. Breathe normally. Patience Bunbury is not a swooner, either, nor a gasper.

But she couldn’t help herself. She had to ask. “A very close friend?”

“Yes,” he said softly, a smile in his eyes. “A very close friend, indeed.”

“Penelope?” That felonious little shoulder devil had definitely made her ask that.

“No.” He shook his head. “That reminds me. Do you know? Has Penelope arrived yet?”

Cass could nearly kick herself for bringing up Penelope and shattering the sense of intimacy they’d shared for just a moment. Or had that only been in her imagination? Or Patience’s imagination? Oh, this was already far too complicated.

She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Actually, from what I understand, Penelope planned to stop along the way to visit a few friends this time.”

And there it was, her first out-and-out lie. The rest of the lies she’d allowed to rest solely on Lucy’s head. Cass had been happy enough to play along with them, but now, now she was in deep, deep enough to lie directly to Julian. Cass detested herself for lying. She imagined herself telling Julian the truth, ripping away her fa?ade and naming herself, admitting to him that she remembered the letter he’d written her that night. It rested in a shoebox tucked away in a drawer in her wardrobe with all the others, sorted by date and stained with her tears. Tears she’d shed thinking how the Battle of Waterloo just might take Julian’s life. But she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t say a word. She was already trapped in the lie.

“I do hope Penelope arrives soon. I must speak with her,” Julian added.

Cass bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes focused on a spot on the parquet floor behind him. Of course the man wanted to speak with his future wife. No doubt he wanted to get their wedding plans under way immediately. Cass’s heart wrenched. “I’m certain Penelope is looking forward to seeing you, too, Captain Swift.” That was another lie and it was bitter on Cass’s tongue. Pen wasn’t looking forward to it at all. In fact, she’d fled from him. Pen not only didn’t seem interested in marrying Julian, she didn’t even want to see him. She was a coward.