Lord Deverill's Secret Read online

  Cassandra gave an inward sigh as she looked at Maria’s wonderful outfit. As always, Maria was dressed in the latest fashions, and wore a darling peach spencer fastened over her muslin gown. A fetching bonnet, lined with ruched silk and decorated with a peach ribbon, was perched on her dark head. She was holding a new parasol in her hands, and her gloves were dyed to match her spencer.

  I wish I could have something new, Cassandra thought, as she glanced down at her tight spencer and patched gloves.

  Pushing the useless thought aside, she said, “No, I was out.”

  “So I see. Taking the air?” asked Maria.

  “Visiting gennulmen,” said Moll darkly.

  “Gentlemen?” asked Maria, turning to Cassandra in surprise.

  Cassandra’s mouth quirked. “You had better come in.”

  Cassandra unlocked the door and led the way inside. She wished she had a butler to open the door and a row of footmen to greet her guests, but such luxuries were beyond her. John the coachman was the one male servant she could afford, and even he was absent at present as he was busy with the coach-maker. So she took on the role of a servant herself, not for the first time, waiting until they were all in the hall then closing the door behind them.

  Moll started to follow Cassandra into the parlour.

  “Thank you, Moll,” she said firmly.

  “Meaning as how I’m to get on with the dusting, I suppose,” grumbled Moll.

  “Meaning you’re not to tell Maria anything I don’t want her to know,” said Cassandra with a dimple.

  Moll retreated, still grumbling, to the kitchen.

  “What gentlemen have you been visiting?” asked Maria, agog, as she followed Cassandra into the parlour.

  “Only one.” Cassandra took off her battered bonnet and patted her hair, then set her bonnet down on a chair. “Lord Deverill.”

  “Lord Deverill!”

  “Yes. Why, do you know him?”

  “I know of him. Who doesn’t? He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in Brighton. He might be poor, but an earl is an earl. Miss Kerrith has set her cap at him, and so has Miss Langley, and half a dozen others besides. You should see them every time he walks into a room, simpering and flirting and fluttering their fans! And their mothers are not much better! They know he needs to marry an heiress, and they are determined to catch him. But what were you doing visiting him? I hope you didn’t go alone? You’ll have no reputation left.”

  “Of course not,” said Cassandra, removing her spencer. “I went with Moll.”

  “Moll!” Maria removed her bonnet and spencer likewise. “Moll isn’t enough to protect your reputation. You should have taken Harry and me.”

  “Would you have gone?” asked Cassandra.

  “Well, no,” Maria admitted. “Harry would have refused.”

  “Which is why I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry not to take you into the drawing-room,” Cassandra continued, looking round the homely room with a touch of chagrin, “but it isn’t habitable. This is the only room Moll and I have cleaned so far.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s you I came to see, not the house. You shouldn’t have stayed away so long,” said Maria, sitting down on a faded chaise longue. “Harry and I have been hoping you would visit all year. We have missed you. When your parents were alive you came to Brighton every year. Now we have to make do with you whenever we are lucky enough to have you. I hope you mean to stay?”

  “For a little while, yes. Long enough to settle some…private business…and clean the town house,” said Cassandra.

  “And enjoy yourself, I hope,” said Maria. “Now that your period of mourning is over, we hope to see much more of you.”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  The time had come to tell Maria that she meant to sell the house. She felt a pang as she glanced round the room, reliving her earliest memories. As her gaze wandered over the chair by the window, she could almost see her mother sitting and sewing there. She smiled as she remembered her mother pricking her finger and sucking it, saying that she was a poor needlewoman, and exhorting Cassandra and Lizzie to become better ones. Cassandra’s gaze moved on towards the fireplace, as she remembered how her father had liked to sit by the fire, reading his newspaper and grumbling about the government. She glanced at the table, recalling the way Rupert had sat there, lolling indolently across it after a night’s dissipation. And in her mind’s eye she saw nine-year-old Lizzie dancing round the room, twirling around happily to show off a new frock.

  She gave an inward sigh and banished the visions. Steeling herself to say what must be said, she continued, “Maria, I can’t keep the town house. I have come here to clean it, and then to sell it.”

  Maria looked horrified. “Cassie! No!”

  “I have to,” said Cassandra. “It’s mortgaged, and I can no longer afford to keep it. Besides, if I sell it, I can use the proceeds to pay off the mortgage on the estate.”

  She had been left the estate on her brother’s death as luckily it had not been entailed. Her father had willed it to her brother, making the provision that if Rupert died before he had an heir, the estate was to pass to Cassandra. But it was heavily mortgaged, and difficult to maintain.

  “You are not thinking clearly,” said Maria, shaking her head. “You can’t deprive yourself and Lizzie of a house by the sea. It is very good for your health, and Lizzie loves it so.”

  “I know, but I am thinking of Lizzie as much as myself. I don’t want her to grow up in poverty. I want her to be able to have the things I had when I was a little girl. I want her to be able to keep her pony, and to have some new clothes from time to time. You cannot imagine how dreadful I felt last week when I packed her valise for her visit to her school friend. Her chemises were all cut down from mine, and every single gown she had was either scorched or mended.”

  “I understand,” said Maria affectionately. “It isn’t easy for you, I know. But why not marry? You’re very beautiful and you will soon find a husband. There are any number of eligible gentlemen in Brighton. A husband will take care of all that sort of thing for you.”

  “I have thought about it, but decided against it. A husband is unlikely to welcome Lizzie. I don’t want her to be banished to the schoolroom or treated like an interloper, or even worse, forced to remain at school for the holidays. I want her to have a happy home and a loving upbringing, as I had.”

  “Some men might welcome her, as your sister,” said Maria optimistically.

  “If I meet one, I promise to consider his offer if he makes me one,” said Cassandra, “but until then, I must do what I can to provide for her, and for myself.”

  Maria nodded. “Then we must make sure we fit as much as we can into your visit. We’ll patronize the best shops along North Street and promenade along the Steyne. We’ll ride on the Downs and visit all the local beauty spots, and we’ll visit some of the nearby grand houses—when the families are away, they allow their house keepers to show people round, and Harry and I often go visiting. We’ll go to Devil’s Dyke and go swimming in the sea…and then you’ll remember how much you love Brighton and be determined never to leave it!”

  Cassandra smiled but shook her head.

  “I won’t tease you anymore,” said Maria. “Tell me, how did you find Lord Deverill,” she went on, changing the subject. “What was he like?”

  Cassandra played with her short, puffed sleeve and considered.

  “He was not what I expected him to be. He was about thirty years of age, with a forbidding countenance and an air of command. He is, I would guess, a man who likes to have his own way.”

  “Don’t they all! They are born that way, I fear. Even Harry! It is one of the worst things about them. But why did you go to see him? It seems an odd thing to do.”

  “Because he was a friend of Rupert’s.” She frowned. “He was nothing like Rupert. I cannot think what they had in common.”

  “They were probably drinking partners, or gambling cronies,” said Maria. “Men m
ean a great deal by the word friend, but none of it is what we would mean. If they can get drunk with a fellow and ride as hard as him, then they call him friend.”

  “You are probably right,” said Cassandra.

  “Even so,” said Maria thoughtfully, “now that you have met him, he might continue the acquaintance. Of course, it isn’t to be relied upon. He might cut you just as easily. But if you see him at the assemblies, he might ask you to dance. You are coming to the assembly rooms with us this evening?”

  “Of course. I have my dress all ready.”

  “It’s not the jonquil satin, I hope?” asked Maria, pulling a face. “That has never suited you, and it’s far too small.”

  “No. Not the jonquil satin: the white muslin.”

  “Oh, yes, that will be very suitable, even if it is abominably old. I remember seeing you wear it years ago, but no one here has seen it, so it will not signify.”

  “Although I feel wrong dressing as a young girl, when I’ve been the mistress of an estate for a year,” said Cassandra.

  “You sound like an elderly matron!” said Maria with a laugh. “You are only two and twenty, Cassie. Hardly in your dotage! It will do you good to go to the assembly. You have had too much sadness and worry of late. It will give you a chance to be young.”

  “Yes, it will,” said Cassandra with a sudden smile. “I am looking forward to it.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  My dearest Lizzie.

  It was later that day, in the early evening, and Cassandra was sitting in her bedroom at her Sheraton writing desk. She dipped her quill into the ink and then carried on with her letter.

  Moll and I had an exciting start to our visit when the wheel came off our coach. Fortunately, John managed to mend it temporarily and we were soon on our way, but it meant we arrived here later than we had expected, and after finishing the food we’d brought with us in the hamper, we went to bed. This morning John took the coach to be repaired properly and…

  She hesitated, and then, leaving out all mention of Lord Deverill, wrote:

  …Maria called on me. I am going to the assembly rooms with her this evening. Harry is taking us, and he has promised to dance with me.

  “Time to be getting dressed,” said Moll, entering the bed chamber with a can of hot water.

  Cassandra laid her quill aside and went into the dressing room, where Moll poured hot water into the porcelain bowl on the washstand. Twigs of lavender poured out with it, filling the air with a delicious scent. Cassandra removed her wrapper and then washed in the fragrant water before putting on her chemise and dressing in her muslin gown. It was her last good gown, and had been bought just over three years before, shortly before the death of her parents. The high waist was ornamented with satin ribbon, and a matching ribbon trimmed the short puffed sleeves. At the back, a train flowed along the floor.

  Moll fastened it for her and then dressed her hair, twisting it into a becoming chignon, and arranged a row of soft curls around her face. Cassandra glanced at herself in the cheval glass to check that she was tidy, then fastened a simple string of pearls around her neck. She pulled on her long evening gloves, smoothing them over her arms.

  “You look lovely, Miss Cassie. Your Mama’d be proud,” said Moll gruffly.

  Cassandra gave her an impulsive hug.

  “Thank you, Moll.”

  The sound of a carriage pulling up outside the house drifted through the open window. Cassandra picked up her gauze shawl and her fan, then went downstairs and out to the waiting carriage.

  “I am looking forward to this,” said Maria, as Cassandra joined her in the carriage.

  Beside her sat Harry. At twenty-eight years old, he was five years older than Maria. He had a good-natured countenance surrounded by glossy chestnut hair, and was dressed fashionably in a black tailcoat and cream knee breeches.

  “Welcome back to Brighton,” he said with a hearty smile. “Maria has been talking about nothing but your visit for the last two weeks. It’s been, When Cassie is here I’ll do this, and When Cassie comes I’ll do that all the time.”

  “I’m very glad to be here,” said Cassandra. “I’ve been looking forward to it as much as Maria has.”

  Cassandra took her place next to Maria, and they were on their way.

  “Now don’t forget, Captain Wade is the Master of Ceremonies,” said Maria, as they reached the Castle Inn. “I don’t believe you know him, but he’s very influential in Brighton, so you must hope he likes you. He runs the rooms with an iron hand, but he keeps us all in order.”

  “No, I don’t know him,” said Cassandra. “I’ve never been to the Castle before. I was too young when I used to come here with my parents, but they met there, and it was Captain Wade who introduced them.”

  “Then perhaps he might introduce you to your future husband!” said Maria airily.

  Cassandra looked about her with interest as they arrived at the Castle and went inside. The chandeliers were already lit, and she could see that the rooms had a restrained elegance which formed a perfect backdrop to all the gaily dressed people. She was relieved to discover that her own outfit did not appear too much out of place, for although her dress was three years old, styles had changed very little in that space of time, and what had been suitable in 1802 looked equally well now in 1805. The older ladies wore coloured gowns, set off by the restraint of the gentlemen’s black and blue coats, and here and there a flash of scarlet shone as an officer went in or out of the card-room.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Winter, it is an honour to welcome you once again to the assembly rooms,” said Captain Wade with a bow.

  “We’re delighted to be here,” said Maria.

  Captain Wade looked enquiringly at Cassandra.

  “This is my friend, Miss Paxton,” said Maria.

  “Ah, yes, Mrs. Winter has told me so much about you. She has been looking forward to your visit for some time. I remember your parents well, and of course your brother, Miss Paxton. I hope you will have a pleasant evening with us.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure I shall,” said Cassandra.

  Captain Wade bowed and moved on to the next guests. Cassandra, Maria and Harry went further into the ballroom. At one end sat the musicians, and in the centre of the floor there was a set forming for a cotillion.

  “Now, Harry, you must dance with Cassandra,” said Maria, as they found a secluded spot at the side of the room.

  “Nothing would give me greater plea sure,” said Harry gallantly, offering Cassandra his arm.

  As she took Harry’s arm and went with him on to the dance floor, Cassandra looked about her. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of Peter Raistrick, or at least a young man who might be Peter, for she did not know him by appearance. She could see two or three young men who were suitable candidates.

  “Do you know a Mr. Peter Raistrick?” she asked Harry, as she turned to face him and dropped him a curtsy.

  Harry frowned. “Yes. I know him,” he said.

  “Is he here to night?”

  Harry glanced towards the side of the room, where a dissolute-looking young man was lounging.

  “Is that him?” asked Cassandra.

  “Yes,” said Harry reluctantly.

  “I’d like you to introduce me.”

  “He’s not the right sort,” said Harry. “You’d better leave him alone.”

  “He was a friend of Rupert’s,” Cassandra explained. “There is something I need to ask him. It won’t take me long, and after that, I promise you I won’t speak to him again.”

  “Oh, well, in that case,” said Harry reluctantly.

  Cassandra could tell that he didn’t like it, but she was relieved that he had agreed to do as she asked. As soon as the dance was over, she would speak to Mr. Raistrick and find out if he could shed any light on her brother’s letter.

  At the far side of the ballroom, Justin saw Cassandra take to the floor with Harry. He had been at the assembly rooms for some time, having arrived unfashionably early, and he now
watched her as she curtsied to Harry.

  “She came, then.”

  Matthew Standish was standing next to him. He had arrived at the same time as Justin and now his eyes followed Cassandra’s every move.

  “Yes, she did, as I knew she would.”

  “You’ve warned Peter that she wants to talk to him, I take it?” asked Matthew.

  “I have. He won’t give us any trouble. He knows what to say.”

  Matthew turned to Justin.

  “He knows what you want him to say, but can we trust him?”

  “Yes. I’m sure of it. Peter isn’t our problem. He can be relied upon.” Justin’s eyes moved across the floor, to where a middle-aged man with curly brown hair, simply dressed in tailcoat and knee breeches, was standing. “Our problem is Elwin.”

  Matthew followed his glance, then quickly looked away, fixing his eyes on a random pair of dancers.

  “Do you think she knows about Elwin?” asked Matthew.

  “No. I don’t think so. She didn’t mention him, in any case. But that doesn’t mean that someone won’t mention his name to her, and if that happens she might seek him out.”

  “It will be no good warning Elwin, I suppose?” asked Matthew dubiously.

  “None at all. Elwin does as he pleases.”

  Matthew pursed his lips. “That could prove difficult for us.”

  Justin agreed. “Which is why it will be our job this evening to make sure they don’t have a chance to meet each other. If Elwin makes a move towards her, or she towards him, then I’ll step in and ask her to dance. If she’s already danced with me, then it will be up to you.”

  “Very well,” Matthew agreed. “Between us, we should manage to keep her occupied. What about supper?”

  “I’ll take her in. With her friend’s husband on one side of her, and me on the other, we should be able to keep her away from any…less desirable…parties.”

  Cassandra dropped Harry a curtsy as the orchestra played the closing chords of the dance, then she took his arm as he led her across the floor to the far side of the room. She ran her eyes over Peter Raistrick. He was exactly the sort of young man she had pictured as one of Rupert’s friends. He was extravagantly dressed in a blue coat, with a heavily embroidered waistcoat and satin knee breeches. His fair hair was brushed back from his face and he had amber eyes. He was attractive, but loose living was beginning to spoil his looks. His face was flushed and there was a suggestion of spread around the girth. His lips were loose and his eyes were hot.