Read The Pursuit Of Marriage Online

Authors: Victoria Alexander

Tags: #Historical

The Pursuit Of Marriage (31 page)

He simply needed to say the words. As did she. She never imagined they’d be quite so difficult.

“I don’t know that we can manage to finish all this in only four more days, miss.” Jacobs shook his head.

“Of course we can,” Cassie said firmly, although she wasn’t at all sure it mattered. He would be here on Thursday whether the room was finished or not, and she was fairly certain that even if it was not entirely completed, he wouldn’t care.

What he had to say to her, what he had to ask was hardly dependent on the state of a room or a house or anything other than a heart. His heart and hers.

She couldn’t remember ever having been so happy.

“Miss Effington.” Higgins stood in the doorway, an odd expression on his face. “There is someone here requesting to see you.”

She’d seen similar looks before. “It’s no doubt my sister. She said she was going to come by and see how the room is progressing.” She grinned. “The resemblance is remarkable, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think this is your sister, miss,” he said slowly.

“Really? I can’t imagine who—”

“Good day, Miss Effington.” Lady Bellingham sailed into the drawing room like a ship in a heady wind, followed at a more sedate pace by her daughter.

“Lady Bellingham.” Cassie stared in surprise. “And Miss Bellingham, good day. What an unexpected…
pleasure.” The two ladies surveyed the room with a distinctly proprietary air. “But I must tell you Lady Berkley and the rest of her family are still in the country.”

“Yes, my dear, we know.” Lady Bellingham smiled in a confidential manner. “We came to see the house and your work, of course.”

“It’s a lovely house,” Miss Bellingham murmured and meandered about the room, stopping here and there to examine something that caught her notice.

“It is, isn’t it?” Cassie glanced around with a fair amount of pride. Certainly, it didn’t look like much now, but in a few days it would be transformed. “This room has a great deal of potential. It’s nicely proportioned and positioned to get a fair amount of sunlight, with excellent ventilation. Note as well the plasterwork on the cornice and the carved detail around the fireplace.”

“Lovely,” Lady Bellingham said. “Just lovely.”

“And what of the furnishings?” Miss Bellingham glanced at Cassie over her shoulder. “What do you plan in that regard?”

“I have sent the upholstered pieces out for repair and new fabrics, as well as ordered a few items. All in all, while some things always change in the process, the end result should be very much like the watercolor sketches you saw. I do try to keep…” At once she suspected the real reason for their visit.

“Lady Bellingham, are you interested in my services?”

“Very much so, my dear.” Lady Bellingham nodded.

“I would be happy to call on you when this project is completed and we could—”

“Oh, no.” Lady Bellingham shook her head. “I’m not interested for my house but for this house.”

“Lord Berkley’s house,” Miss Bellingham added.

“This house?” Cassie drew her brows together. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That’s quite all right. There’s no reason why you should.” Lady Bellingham lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “It’s something of a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” A faint sense of apprehension trickled through Cassie. She ignored it and leaned toward Lady Bellingham as if they were bosom bows. “Oh, I do love secrets. And I’m very good at keeping them.”

“I daresay it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. After all, we did understand from Marian, Lord Berkley’s mother that is, that you were refurbishing the house for the next Lady Berkley.” Lady Bellingham glanced at her daughter. “Besides, you were at Holcroft Hall when it happened.”

“When what happened?” Cassie said slowly.

“I’m not sure I like these colors, Miss Effington,” Miss Bellingham said pleasantly.

“I shall pass your comments on to Lord Berkley, then, as he approved them,” Cassie said just as pleasantly. “Although I will confess he told me to use my own judgment as to suitable colors and everything else.”

“Ah well, the viscount and I obviously disagree on that.” Miss Bellingham shrugged. “I suppose it’s a relatively minor matter, though, given that there is so very much we do agree on.”

“He’s a very…agreeable gentleman.”
Cassie forced a polite smile.
“Now then, if you ladies will excuse me, I have a great deal of work—”

“Yes, of course. However,” Miss Bellingham paused and furrowed her perfect brow, “I would really like to discuss the colors, as I should hate for you to have to repaint.”

“Why would it be necessary to repaint?” Cassie shook her head in confusion.

“No doubt this is all very puzzling. That’s most understandable, Miss Effington. After all, there was no future Viscountess Berkley when you began your work here.” Lady Bellingham beamed. “Now there is.”

Unease twisted Cassie’s stomach. “My apologies, Lady Bellingham, I don’t mean to be obtuse, but I’m still not certain what you’re trying to say.”

“It’s quite simple.” A glint of triumph sparked in Miss Bellingham’s violet eyes. “My mother is trying to tell you the future Lady Berkley is standing right before you. I plan to marry Lord Berkley. Reginald.”

Cassie’s heart caught and she stared for a long moment. “I don’t believe you.”

“Miss Effington!” Shock rang in Lady Bellingham’s voice.

“It scarcely matters whether you believe me or not, Miss Effington.” Miss Bellingham shrugged a shapely shoulder. “Although I can well imagine why you might be surprised. It happened rather suddenly, but Lord Berkley and I did get on extremely well together in the country. We had the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with one another.” She sighed with obvious satisfaction,

“Alone.”

“Alone?” Cassie clasped her hands together to keep her from ripping the smirk off Miss Bellingham’s pretty face. “That’s rather improper, isn’t it?”

“A few minor improprieties can certainly be forgiven when marriage is the end result, Miss Effington,”

Lady Bellingham said firmly.

“Yes, of course,” Cassie said under her breath and addressed Lady Bellingham. “Perhaps, as you have seen my sketches, you would like to see the other rooms I am to refurbish?”

Lady Bellingham brightened. “I would indeed. Although we cannot stay long. We have a great many arrangements to make.”

Cassie nodded at Higgins, still lingering in the doorway. “I’m certain Higgins can find someone willing to conduct a brief tour.”

“Of course, miss.” The butler’s expression was noncommittal, but Cassie was fairly certain he had heard every word.

A moment later, he showed Lady Bellingham out of the drawing room. Miss Bellingham’s gaze met Cassie’s, and there was a distinct challenge in their violet depths. Cassie narrowed her eyes. “He has asked you to marry him, then?”

“You, of all people, must admit we are extremely well suited for one another. Indeed, I am most grateful to you.”

“You are? Why?”

“I know of your wager. I found it most amusing.”

Cassie scoffed. “I can’t imagine he would tell you such a thing.”

“Come now, Miss Effington, when two people become extremely close, indeed when they decide to spend the rest of their days together, they have no secrets between them.” She studied Cassie curiously.

“I must say I thought he did an admirable job in the selection of Mr. Drummond. The man is very nearly perfect from what I can see.”

Reggie would never tell her of their wager. Still, how else would she know?

“You didn’t answer my question,” Cassie said carefully.

“I know, and I shouldn’t say anything at all. It would be most indiscreet of me.” Miss Bellingham shrugged.

“Then he hasn’t asked you?”

“I’m really not at liberty to say.”

“Why not? If all has been settled between you and he, then I don’t see—”

“He has not yet told his family,” Miss Bellingham said smoothly. “I should hate for them to hear something of this magnitude from anyone other than him. Surely you can understand that.”

Cassie stared at the other woman for a long moment. Her heart told her not to believe a word. But she couldn’t ignore everything she’d ever known about men of Reggie’s reputation. Certainly, he’d said he was willing to reform, but what if that too had simply been part and parcel of a well-practiced act?

Beyond that, why on earth would Miss Bellingham lie? She was the toast of the season and could have any man she wanted. What reason could she possibly have to claim to be marrying Reggie if it weren’t true?

“Miss Effington.” Miss Bellingham heaved a reluctant sigh. “Lord Berkley asked me if I would come here and tell you he would be delayed and would not return to London until Friday. Apparently matters had become more complicated than he had initially thought. I think he hoped you would finish the room by Thursday as originally agreed and then you would be gone by the time he arrived. Frankly, he seemed rather, well, eager for you to complete your work, almost as if he were reluctant to face you.”

“He said that?” Cassie said coolly, as if she didn’t feel as though she’d just been hit hard in the stomach. As if she could breathe.

Miss Bellingham winced. “Words to that effect, I’m afraid. But what can one expect from a man with his reputation?”

“Infamous,” Cassie said under her breath.

Miss Bellingham was right. What could one expect?

“Exactly.” Miss Bellingham nodded firmly. “He’s the kind of man who would tell a woman anything, indeed promise her anything, to have his way with her. Needless to say, I was made of sterner stuff, which is no doubt why I am now looking forward to marriage.”

She narrowed her gaze thoughtfully, as if trying to decide whether Cassie was the type of woman who would believe such promises. “He also said that you were not the kind of woman to force a man into marriage to avoid scandal. He found it most admirable. Not that anything untoward has occurred between you, of course,” she added quickly.

“Nothing of any significance,” Cassie murmured. “I am wondering though, Miss Bellingham, why you would want to wed a man of Lord Berkley’s scandalous nature.”

“His nature is precisely why I do want to marry him.” Miss Bellingham’s smile had a faint touch of wickedness. “I find men of a certain reputation fascinating. Besides, I am more than willing to reform him, and beyond that, he is an excellent catch. His title, his fortune, this house. I could scarce do better.”

“I see.”

In spite of everything Miss Bellingham said, everything Cassie knew, she still could not believe she could have been so wrong. And so foolish. But, in truth, wasn’t this what, deep somewhere inside, she’d always feared? Or expected?

“And as for the color, Miss Effington.” Miss Bellingham glanced around and smiled pleasantly. “I have changed my mind. I’m certain when the room is complete it will probably be quite charming.”

She considered Cassie for a moment. “Oh dear. I can see I’ve upset you. About Lord Berkley that is, not the paint.”

“On the contrary.” Cassie summoned every bit of self-control she had and lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, as if she didn’t care the least bit. As if she weren’t struggling against a pain so intense that it threatened to overwhelm her. “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Lord Berkley and I are nothing more than friends. Acquaintances, really. Why, I barely know the gentleman. What he does or doesn’t do and whomever he chooses to do or not do it with is really no concern of mine.”

“I didn’t think it was.” Miss Bellingham cast her a brilliant smile. “Now, my mother and I should be on our way. We have any number of things to attend to before Lord Berkley returns to London. And I would hate to keep you, as I’m certain you will wish to be done with all this before his arrival.”

“Indeed I will, Miss Bellingham.”
Cassie forced a polite smile.
“You can count on that.”

“Excellent.” Miss Bellingham nodded and swept from the room as if she were already mistress of the house.

Cassie stared at the door, unseeing. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she marveled at her composure. At the undeniable fact that she was still standing. That she continued to breathe. That her heart continued to beat. An odd sense of calm gripped her, almost as if she were somehow removed from the emotions swirling about her. Somehow keeping betrayal and anguish and any number of other devastating feelings at arm’s length. As if she knew that allowing herself to accept the truth would destroy her.

Dimly, from a vast distance away, she heard the butler’s voice. She wanted to respond, but she wasn’t entirely sure that acknowledgment of another person—indeed, so much as moving from this spot—wouldn’t undo her altogether. Perhaps she could just stand here for the rest of her days, still and unseeing.

He cleared his throat. “Miss? Your sister is here.”

“It looks wonderful thus far.” Delia’s voice sounded as distant as Higgins’s had. “I love the colors you’ve chosen. The blues and greens are so fresh and subtle. It’s all very grand, but classic, I think. It reminds me of…” Delia paused. “Cassie?”

Cassie drew a deep breath and met her sister’s gaze.

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