finger foods and
making inconsequential chatter.”
They ate their meal in near silence after
that. Even Penelope seemed to understand that something was wrong.
Her few attempts at conversation fell flat and she too grew silent.
Dessert was a delectable cheese custard pie, and the diners stared
at it without enthusiasm.
Lord Whittingham placed his fork on the
table and sat back in his chair. “Whose idea was it to have this
picnic, anyway?” It sounded like an accusation.
Cassandra’s gaze flew to Penelope’s face,
but the poor girl looked so frightened, she took pity on her and
intervened.
“It was somewhat a collective idea,
Grandfather. It just evolved. You know how that can happen,” she
finished lamely.
“Tell me, Uncle,” Roger ventured in a
cautious voice, “do you object to a picnic?”
The old man’s attention shifted between his
three dinner partners, before it finally settled on his nephew.
“It’s not the picnic that concerns me. What I mind is the inclusion
of Lord Sutherfield.”
“Why do you object to Lord Sutherfield’s
presence?” Cassandra spoke before she could stop herself.
The old man looked at her. “His interest in
you is too pronounced.”
Cassandra felt a blush warm her face.
“That’s absurd.”
“Come now, my dear, the man is interested in
you—I can see it. And that places me in a very difficult position.
He is Sutherfield’s heir. Offending him is something I would rather
not have happen. It would be best if you discouraged him,
Cassandra.”
“Are you suggesting I have been encouraging
him?” She was suddenly very angry. “And what’s wrong with him,
anyway? He’s a marquess and very wealthy.”
“Here now,” Roger blurted. “I thought—”
Lord Whittingham held his hand up for
silence and then turned to Cassandra. “I’ve made a decision not to
press you about the future for the time being, but I would be
remiss if I didn’t warn you about the unscrupulous gentlemen who
will cross your path. I should also tell you, with your new status
and wealth the fortune hunters will soon be gathering.”
“With my old status and wealth fortune
hunters pursued me,” she said in a cold voice. “I do not believe
Lord Sutherfield is a fortune hunter.”
“No, and I agree with you. His interest is
much more straightforward. But he will trifle with your affections
if you are not careful. He has a reputation for doing just
that.”
“You know this?” She was sorry she asked the
question, for all at once she dreaded the answer.
“I’ve done some investigating,” he
admitted.
Cassandra felt deflated. She looked around
the table at the people who claimed to be her family. Her
grandfather watched her sternly, and Roger wore a sullen expression
that did nothing to endear him to her. But Penelope, who had been
amazingly quiet, stared wide-eyed at Cassandra with something akin
to respect.
“I didn’t know Lord Sutherfield was
interested in you,” she said at last. There was a hint of pique in
her voice.
“He enjoys a flirtation. There’s nothing
more to it than that,” Cassandra said dully.
“I want you to assure me that you will be
careful,” the earl insisted.
“Yes, yes, of course.” More than anything at
the moment, Cassandra wanted to escape to her room and away from
this unpleasant conversation. She did not know these people, not
really, and she was not comforted by their presence.
As she sat there feeling lonely, Cassandra
realized this was not the first time she had found herself missing
Quintin James, but it was by far the worst. It’s a good thing I’m
not prone to tears, she thought, for now would be an appropriate
time to shed a few.
*****
Roger carried Cassandra to the landaulet
and, with some effort, placed her on the seat. He straightened,
smiling sheepishly at her, and she noticed his face was covered
with perspiration. It had been a struggle as he lurched uncertainly
down the staircase and through the front door.
That
making inconsequential chatter.”
They ate their meal in near silence after
that. Even Penelope seemed to understand that something was wrong.
Her few attempts at conversation fell flat and she too grew silent.
Dessert was a delectable cheese custard pie, and the diners stared
at it without enthusiasm.
Lord Whittingham placed his fork on the
table and sat back in his chair. “Whose idea was it to have this
picnic, anyway?” It sounded like an accusation.
Cassandra’s gaze flew to Penelope’s face,
but the poor girl looked so frightened, she took pity on her and
intervened.
“It was somewhat a collective idea,
Grandfather. It just evolved. You know how that can happen,” she
finished lamely.
“Tell me, Uncle,” Roger ventured in a
cautious voice, “do you object to a picnic?”
The old man’s attention shifted between his
three dinner partners, before it finally settled on his nephew.
“It’s not the picnic that concerns me. What I mind is the inclusion
of Lord Sutherfield.”
“Why do you object to Lord Sutherfield’s
presence?” Cassandra spoke before she could stop herself.
The old man looked at her. “His interest in
you is too pronounced.”
Cassandra felt a blush warm her face.
“That’s absurd.”
“Come now, my dear, the man is interested in
you—I can see it. And that places me in a very difficult position.
He is Sutherfield’s heir. Offending him is something I would rather
not have happen. It would be best if you discouraged him,
Cassandra.”
“Are you suggesting I have been encouraging
him?” She was suddenly very angry. “And what’s wrong with him,
anyway? He’s a marquess and very wealthy.”
“Here now,” Roger blurted. “I thought—”
Lord Whittingham held his hand up for
silence and then turned to Cassandra. “I’ve made a decision not to
press you about the future for the time being, but I would be
remiss if I didn’t warn you about the unscrupulous gentlemen who
will cross your path. I should also tell you, with your new status
and wealth the fortune hunters will soon be gathering.”
“With my old status and wealth fortune
hunters pursued me,” she said in a cold voice. “I do not believe
Lord Sutherfield is a fortune hunter.”
“No, and I agree with you. His interest is
much more straightforward. But he will trifle with your affections
if you are not careful. He has a reputation for doing just
that.”
“You know this?” She was sorry she asked the
question, for all at once she dreaded the answer.
“I’ve done some investigating,” he
admitted.
Cassandra felt deflated. She looked around
the table at the people who claimed to be her family. Her
grandfather watched her sternly, and Roger wore a sullen expression
that did nothing to endear him to her. But Penelope, who had been
amazingly quiet, stared wide-eyed at Cassandra with something akin
to respect.
“I didn’t know Lord Sutherfield was
interested in you,” she said at last. There was a hint of pique in
her voice.
“He enjoys a flirtation. There’s nothing
more to it than that,” Cassandra said dully.
“I want you to assure me that you will be
careful,” the earl insisted.
“Yes, yes, of course.” More than anything at
the moment, Cassandra wanted to escape to her room and away from
this unpleasant conversation. She did not know these people, not
really, and she was not comforted by their presence.
As she sat there feeling lonely, Cassandra
realized this was not the first time she had found herself missing
Quintin James, but it was by far the worst. It’s a good thing I’m
not prone to tears, she thought, for now would be an appropriate
time to shed a few.
*****
Roger carried Cassandra to the landaulet
and, with some effort, placed her on the seat. He straightened,
smiling sheepishly at her, and she noticed his face was covered
with perspiration. It had been a struggle as he lurched uncertainly
down the staircase and through the front door.
That
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