The Scandal Of The Season. Annie Burrows

in such company. Given the fact that he’d never treated either girl as if he regarded them as nuisances, Cassandra couldn’t really understand why she didn’t like him.

      But she felt a definite frisson of revulsion when Godmama reached up, on tiptoe, to whisper in his ear. Especially when whatever it was she’d whispered brought a smile back to his face. A rather devilish smile.

      ‘Come, girls,’ said Godmama, once she’d appeased Captain Bucknell. ‘Let us go to the drawing room so that you can tell me all about whatever it is that has put you both in such a pother.’

      While Godmama and Rosalind chose seats by the fireplace, where a cheerful blaze was crackling away, Cassandra hung back, listening out for the sound of the front door opening and closing. However, just as she’d suspected, instead of hearing anything to indicate Captain Bucknell was leaving the house, she heard the tread of heavy footsteps going up the stairs. She knew it! Godmama and Captain Bucknell were lovers.

      The fact that there was a fire lit in here and that a decanter, two glasses and a plate of the Captain’s favourite biscuits were set out on a little table beside the chaise longue was even further proof.

      Even though she had no right to criticise a single aspect of Godmama’s behaviour, she couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed, for Godmama had lured Cassandra to London with promises of restoring her reputation. And had also undertaken to find a titled husband for Rosalind. How on earth did she think she was going to accomplish either feat when she was carrying on with the big Guardsman so brazenly?

      It wasn’t as if he was irresistible. The best she could say about him was that he was easy-going. Many people said he was handsome, but Cassandra didn’t find all that facial hair of his the slightest bit appealing. Nor the way the blackness of his whiskers made his lips look unnaturally red. What was more, he was one of those officers who had his uniforms tailored to fit so tightly that his breeches, in particular, left nothing to the imagination.

      ‘So, girls,’ said Godmama, thankfully interrupting Cassandra’s train of thought before it could dwell too long upon Captain Bucknell’s skin-tight breeches. ‘What is so urgent it cannot wait until morning?’

      ‘Colonel Fairfax was at the ball tonight. He—’

      ‘Colonel Fairfax? Was at the ball? Gracious heavens! Lady Bunsford must be in alt.’

      Cassandra frowned at her godmother, wondering what on earth she could mean.

      ‘In alt? But he was only there for about five minutes.’ Nearly all of which he spent glaring and growling at her.

      ‘That makes no difference. He was there, when he is famous for never wasting his time attending anything so frivolous as a society ball. Not unless someone from High Command hints that it might be of use to Wellington’s plans. And I’m sure nobody in command would have thought any such thing about a function arranged by the likes of Lady Bunsford!’ She laughed. ‘But now Lady Bunsford will be able to claim the cachet of being the first hostess to succeed where so many others have failed.’

      ‘Be that as it may,’ Cassandra persisted, having learned by now that if she didn’t pull the conversation back on track very swiftly, Godmama would find some other way of diverting it in the direction she wished it to take. ‘He approached us and threatened to tell everyone about…’ she swallowed ‘…my past.’

      ‘No!’ Godmama, at last, looked suitably shocked.

      ‘Only, he had things all muddled up. He seemed to think that I had deceived you into launching me and Rosalind into society and insisted I confess all to you.’

      ‘He said what? Oh!’ Godmama burst out laughing.

      ‘Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but I don’t find it very funny,’ said Rosalind mulishly. ‘He said I wasn’t fit to mix in polite society and would force me to leave.’

      Godmama produced a handkerchief from somewhere and dabbed at her eyes with it. ‘But don’t you see? He has spiked his own guns by insisting you make a confession to me. Because the next time he challenges you, you may say, perfectly truthfully, that I know all and that I am very happy to continue to sponsor you. Both of you,’ she added, sending one of her charming smiles at each girl in turn.

      ‘Yes, but…’

      ‘And anyway, what can he really do? He does not have the power to physically eject either of you from my home. He may spread rumours, but, really, I shouldn’t think that he will. It would not be the act of a gentleman to speak ill of a lady and he is one of the most rigid, principled men you are ever likely to meet.’

      That had, Cassy reflected, been just what she’d thought of him, before tonight. That he was noble and upright, and…solid. Like a rock, actually, when she’d seen him standing on the quayside, ramrod straight and clearly in command of all the soldiers scurrying about like so many ants. Even after he’d dealt with Guy, her belief in him hadn’t wavered, because he’d seemed like the one man upon whom she could rely.

      But now…well, he’d been so beastly earlier. He’d even made her question her initial impression of him. She’d thought, back then, that he’d been angry with Guy. Only now it turned out that he blamed her for everything.

      But that was a topic to mull over another time.

      ‘So…you don’t think he will do or say anything to hinder Rosalind’s chances,’ Cassandra asked, ‘until he has made sure I have confessed my supposed crimes to you?’

      ‘No, I don’t. What’s more, he is so busy with his work for, oh, some general or other who organises supplies for the army, or something of the sort,’ she said, waving her handkerchief about in a vague manner, as though working for the defence of the realm was neither here nor there, ‘that he probably won’t even remember to check up on you for some considerable time. And when that time comes, you may tell him whatever comes into your head that will serve the purpose.’

      Oh, dear. Godmama appeared to have forgotten Cassandra’s insistence that she was not going to sink to the depths of telling lies to explain her presence in London. She didn’t even seem to think that telling lies was sinking to any sort of depths at all.

      ‘But what,’ Rosalind objected while Cassandra was still trying to come up with a polite and respectful way of expressing her reservations, ‘if he thinks he can speak ill of me, since I ain’t… I mean, I am not a lady?’

      Godmama shook her head. ‘He cannot say anything about you without making himself rather unpopular. Because, darling, everyone knows, or at least, suspects, that Cassandra never met you before she came to my home. Everyone knows, or thinks they know, that your father is paying me to find you a titled husband. But everyone is perfectly happy to go along with the story we have put about, that I am launching my goddaughter and graciously extending hospitality to her friend. That way, they can invite you to places where you can meet their sons without looking as though they are being mercenary about it. It is a fabrication that suits everyone concerned. And if Colonel Fairfax goes about trying to put a spoke in your wheel he is going to upset a lot of very influential families with younger sons to provide for.’

      ‘Papa don’t want a younger son for me,’ Rosalind reminded her. ‘He wants a title.’

      Once again, the Duchess made play with her handkerchief. ‘Yes, yes, but you know what I mean.’

      ‘So, you don’t think,’ put in Cassandra before Rosalind could start really quarrelling with Godmama about the terms of their agreement, ‘we have any reason to worry about what he may do?’

      ‘There is never any point in worrying about what a man may do, darling. What matters is how you two deal with the threat. Trust me to know of which I speak,’ she said darkly. ‘Any sign of panic and people will say there is no smoke without fire. But laugh it all off as a piece of spite and people will…well, let us just see how it plays out, shall we? He has fired a shot across our bows, that is all. Given us a warning. Now, if that is all?’ Godmama gave them one of her charming smiles, gathered