Page 46 of The Damsel
But then, she thought of the way he’d been watching her in the garden, the tenderness in his expression as he’d lain in her bed placing flowers in her hair. Upon rising to look in a mirror, she’d thought she looked ridiculous, her hair in a wild tumble with the blossoms dotting it throughout. But Robert had stared at her as if looking upon a goddess, remarking that the yellow primroses looked fetching on her.
Were those the actions of a man caught up in the thrill of newfound lust?
No. They were the telltale acts of a besotted man.
Damn it all, what had she done? She’d been determined to keep him at arm’s length, but now here she was having dinner in his home, with his family, walking in on his father’s arm.
It is only one dinner, she reminded herself.After tonight you will return to the way things have been. Nothing has to change.
With that thought at the forefront of her mind, she cast off propriety in order to help the baron into his seat. The last thing she wanted was for him to tip over while trying to pull out her chair.
She took her place at the baron’s right, with Lady Loring and her husband directly across from her. Due to the order of propriety, Robert sat farther down the table with Lucy at his side. The other guests filled the chairs in the order they’d come into the room, with the baroness seating herself at the other end facing her husband.
Wine was poured, and before the footmen could serve the first course Lady Stanley insisted upon a toast in honor of her husband’s birthday. The baron bore all the attention with a smile on his face and rosy glow in his cheeks, raising his glass before clinking it against Cassandra’s then Lady Loring’s. Conversation remained light over the first course of turtle soup, lamb cutlets, and venison accompanied by asparagus. She found the food to be far better than she’d expected, and enjoyed it more than the dull conversation happening on her side of the table. The baron and Viscount Loring had begun talking about the hunting to be found in Scotland, while Lady Loring cut in here and there to give her opinion on the barbarism of the sport.
Every so often, she glanced down the table to Robert, and found he seemed to be just as uninterested in the company. It was no wonder he’d wished for her to come. The downside, of course, being that they were not seated side by side. Had they been, she might have had a bit of fun with him, resting a hand upon his thigh and drawing it upward until she held him by the cock. The thought brought a smirk to her lips, but she masked it by taking a bite of venison. Whatever was being discussed down the table, everyone around the dull Miss Fletcher seemed on the verge of shoving their knives through their ears to drown out the sound of her voice.
Did the chit really think it made her more attractive to whisper in that girlish way? She wanted to throttle the girl and tell her to speak up.
By the time the first course had been taken away, Cassandra had begun to think she’d worried over nothing. Now that dinner was in full swing and the initial tension caused by her arrival had dissipated, this entire affair promised to be uneventful.
At least, until the second course arrived and Lady Loring found it necessary to draw her into conversation.
“His Lordship and I have recently returned from London,” she remarked, meeting Cassandra’s gaze from across the table. “While there, we happened upon your mother and that dear, sweet Ophelia in Hyde Park. What a lovely young woman she’s grown into.”
Cassandra paused, her fork poised over a portion of fricassee chicken with mushrooms. It smelled heavenly and she wanted to be left alone to eat it in peace, but Lady Loring was having none of it. “Indeed. I was just in Town to join in celebrating her eighteenth birthday. She’s to make her debut this spring.”
“What a marvelous time in a young girl’s life,” the viscountess said with a knowing smile.
The expression was without warmth, putting Cassandra on edge. Her words were not as innocent as they seemed; she was leading up to something.
“Yes, I am glad for her,” she replied, pointedly going back to her chicken and dismissing the other woman.
But Lady Loring pressed on, leaning forward a bit as her smile widened.
“And I am certain she will be a smashing success. What, with the exceptional example of her mother and sisters to follow. Then, there is your own glaring example of what a lady isnotto do after her coming out, so she is sure to have learned from that as well.”
Cassandra went still, her fork hovering before her face with a bit of chicken and a mushroom hanging off its end. She narrowed her eyes at the old bitch, her temper flaring in an instant. The knife resting on her plate would make the perfect tool for cutting out the viscountess’ tongue. When she was finished, she would throw it down onto the table for all to see, before turning to stride out of the room.
Rise above it.
Robert’s words from that afternoon in the garden came back to her now, and as she glanced down the table she found everyone had gone silent to watch, her bedmate included. He watched her with a furrowed brow, his mouth turned down.
He’d been right. She had to put these people in their place and remind them that she was the blasted daughter of a duke. She would not serve as their whipping girl any longer.
Besides, she’d had plenty of experience dealing with sharp-tonged women. After all, she’d grown up with the dowager Duchess of Penrose for a mother.
With a slow, catlike smile, she held the other woman’s gaze while biting the chicken off the end of her fork. She took her time chewing and swallowing, then using her napkin to dab the corners of her mouth before laying it back in her lap. All this she did while the rest of the party looked on in rapt silence, whispers of Lady Loring’s comment having made their way to the end where Lady Stanley sat.
Arching an eyebrow, she let her smile settle into a sardonic smirk. “You know quite well the sorts of behaviors a debutante ought to avoid after her come out. Speaking of which, how is your daughter? I’ve heard the wondrous news of the birth of her son. How proud you must be of the little love … born a short four months after the wedding.”
Lady Loring dropped her fork and the utensil clanked onto her plate, while she stared daggers at Cassandra. Farther down the table, she heard the vicar mutter something about ‘shocking behavior’, while Lucy giggled into her hand as her mother scolded her. Robert’s frown had eased, his chin raising a tick as their gazes met from down the table. Giving her a little smile, he raised his wine glass to her, then took a sip and turned his attentions back to his meal.
Giving Lady Loring another scathing glare, she went back to her food. It was the best chicken she’d ever had, and she enjoyed every single bite, along with the other offerings of the second course.
Dinner progressed smoothly from there, with her verbal set down of the viscountess serving as a warning to the others. They went out of their way to be gracious toward her for fear of earning the same treatment as Lady Loring—who sat pouting while pushing her food about on her plate and avoiding eye contact with her.
The third course saw jokes and humorous stories volleyed back and forth across the table, the wine having loosened everyone’s tongues. The baron seemed in high spirits, enjoying himself in a way she’d wager he had not in quite some time. While appearing a bit worn thin as the night went on, his color remained good and he never stopped smiling—laughing at every joke and engaging his guests with stories of his youth as well as Robert’s childhood.
