A Regency Invitation to the House Party of the Season by Nicola Cornick, Elizabeth Rolls, JOANNA MAITLAND Read Free Book Online Page A

Lady Margaret’s words, calculated and spiteful as they were, nevertheless struck a chord. She could not get away from the fact that she had told Peter Quinlan that she was heiress to a vast sum, greater than anyone had ever suspected and after that he had worked swiftly and efficiently to engage her interest, to seduce her, to compromise her into a position where society’s rules obliged her to wed him…She just managed to repress another groan.
    She had allowed Peter Quinlan liberties that she had never previously dreamed of permitting any man who was not her husband. It was lowering to admit it, but she had enjoyed his kisses to the point of abandonment. She had participated enthusiastically in her own downfall.
    Even worse, Peter had told her honestly that he had come a-courting her for her money and not for herself alone. Yet she, like a naïve little idiot, had fallen for hischarm and straight into his arms. Damn Peter Quinlan for being so attractive and damn the blackberry cordial and double damn her own weakness and triple damn Lady Margaret, who was sitting on the edge of her bed now, picking idly at the coverlet with her immaculate fingernails and smiling at Cassie in that condescending manner, which told her just what a silly little girl she really was.
    ‘I am not intending to marry Lord Quinlan, ma’am,’ Cassie said, bristling with a mixture of shame and anger. She cleared her throat. ‘This is all a misunderstanding.’
    Lady Margaret laughed like a hollow tinkle of bells. ‘I do not think so, my love. Not after your performance in that inn. Your cousin is anxious to hush the scandal and has agreed to an immediate engagement. There is nothing for you to consent to. It is all agreed.’ She got to her feet in an elegant swish of silk skirts, but when she reached the door she paused, one hand on the frame.
    ‘By the way, my love, I should take Lord Quinlan and be thankful if I were you. A young lady in your position cannot afford to be too particular and you will get no better offer.’ Her gaze fell on the blue striped gown that Eliza was stoically folding to replace in the wardrobe. ‘Sweetly pretty, my love, and very youthful. Just right for you.’
    There was a painful silence after she had left the room.
    ‘Betrothal,’ Cassie said furiously. ‘How dare they! They take a great deal for granted!’
    ‘Spiteful old harpy,’ Eliza said, shutting the blue gown away in the cupboard and shooting the closed panels of the bedroom door a malevolent look. ‘Always stirring up trouble, she is! No better than Haymarket ware neither.’
    ‘You go too far, Eliza,’ Cassie said hastily.
    ‘Some of us,’ Eliza said with an ominous sniff, ‘see things that others do not.’
    Cassie sighed sharply. For all that she disliked her chaperon, she had never seen any evidence of the alleged impropriety that Eliza alluded to. It seemed most unlikely, given her cousins’ concern for her reputation, that they would appoint a scandalous chaperon. Eliza’s suspicions must surely be baseless.
    ‘Mr Timms and I,’ Eliza said, with finality, ‘think that madam is no better than she ought to be.’
    Cassie sighed again.
    ‘No doubt that was what you and Timms were discussing the other day on the stairs,’ she said. ‘I saw you looking very cosy together.’
    To Cassie’s surprise her normally forthright maid looked almost coy. She closed her lips tightly and a slight flush came into her cheeks.
    ‘Mr Timms and I were discussing the merits of Holland starch, Miss Cassandra. I’ll have you know that we have been acquainted for many years and nothing more than a few kind words have ever passed between us.’
    Cassie could tell that Eliza was ruffled. She jumped from the bed and gave her an impulsive hug. ‘I am sorry, Eliza. I meant no harm. It is merely that I had observed that you value Mr Timms’s good opinion.’
    Eliza’s stiff figure softened and she half-smiled. ‘I know you did not mean anything by it,