Page 78 of From Duke Till Dawn
A thick miasma of sorrow spread through him at the thought. The weeks and months and years without her seemed to stretch on in a blank void, empty of happiness and pleasure.
They turned onto an elegant street lined with shops, the sidewalks filled with men and women of fashion who were busy with the weighty task of seeing and being seen.
“It’s a living edition ofLa Belle Assemblé,” Cassandra murmured with a smile. She glanced down at her indigo pelisse. “And I’m two Seasons out of date.” She frowned at him as he looked at her meaningfully. “No. Absolutely not.”
He held up his hands. “I’ve said nothing.”
“But I saw the look in your eye. You want to buy me a new pelisse.”
“There’s no harm in purchasing one garment. It could even be ready-made.”
Yet she was intractable. “The harm is that I’ll owe you even more for its cost, and I’ve got nothing to spare.”
“Consider it a gift,” he offered.
“How do I know it won’t be added to my tally?” she asked with suspicion.
“It won’t,” he assured her. “Trust me.”
He’d said the words without thinking, but once they’d left his lips, he realized what they truly meant.
As did she. She gazed at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “If it will please you.”
“It would. Very much.” She had reluctantly accepted everything he’d grudgingly given her. But this would be the first item that he’d willingly, happily granted for the pleasure of itself, not toward a goal. Even more important, she agreed to take what he offered.
And she trusted him. That alone was his profit.
He guided her toward one dressmaker’s with a fetching yellow dress in its window. “This way, madam.”
But as they approached the shop, a man and a woman stepped in their path. They were both of middle age and prosperous looking in their walking ensembles. The man sported an old-fashioned wig, and the woman wore the style of an earlier decade, though everything they wore was immaculate and expensive.
“Lord Greyland,” the man exclaimed with pleasure. “I’m heartily glad to see you, Your Grace. You’re looking quite fit and well.”
“Lord Massey,” Alex said with a bow. “Lady Massey.”
The woman curtsied and smiled. “It’s so rare for us to see you in such frivolous pursuits, Your Grace.”
“I have learned that small amounts of frivolity can be most beneficial to the constitution,” he answered.
“Well said, well said,” Lord Massey said genially. He glanced with expectancy and interest at Cassandra, clearly waiting for an introduction.
His mind blanked for a moment. Who was Cassandra? He had no idea what to say to these two pillars of high Society.
“This is Mrs....” He scrabbled to come up with the appropriate name.
“Blair,” Cassandra smoothly filled in for him. “Cassandra Blair, of Northumberland.”
“Indeed?” Lady Massey asked with curiosity. “Where in Northumberland?”
“Mostly Tynedale, though I have spent time in Alnwick.”
“Lovely,” Lord Massey exclaimed.
Alex had no idea she knew anything about Northumberland, but knowledge of the place rolled readily off her tongue. Damn, but she was good at her work.
He couldn’t believe he actuallyadmiredher swindling ability, but he saw it now for what it was: the steadfast desire to survive. And she did it splendidly.
“I confess I do miss it,” Cassandra said with a confiding tone, “though Lord Greyland has been most gracious in showing me the town. He was a childhood friend of my late husband, you know. I shut myself away in the country for too long, Lord Greyland said, and must come for the Season.”
