The Pursuit Of Marriage (21 page)

“Yes, yes, of course, but it did not seem even a remote possibility until this very moment,” Reggie snapped. “I never truly thought I could find a genuine Lord Perfect.” He pulled up short and stared.

“What am I going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Neither have I.” Reggie resumed pacing. “The best thing about an actor was that he was never a real threat. There was no possibility of true involvement with Cassandra, as he would only be playing a role.” He glanced at Marcus. “I could fail to present Drummond as Lord Perfect and concede defeat.”

“If, of course, you hadn’t already told her he would be here. And since the only unmarried gentlemen here include two of her brothers, Lord Bellingham, who is not yet twenty, Colonel Fargate, who is entirely too old for her, my solicitor, Mr. Whiting, who continues to be involved with my mother.”

Marcus rolled his gaze toward the heavens. “Lord Townsend—”

“Why couldn’t I say Townsend is Lord Perfect?”

“She’d never believe it. Townsend is adequate, I suppose, but next to Drummond,” Marcus shook his head, “he definitely pales in comparison. In truth, I can’t think of any man who doesn’t pale in comparison.”

“Surely he has some faults?”

“No doubt, but they may not surface as quickly as you might wish.”

“Perhaps I can keep her from meeting Drummond?” Reggie’s mind raced. “I could, I don’t know, abduct her? Yes, that’s good. I like that.”

“Reggie.” A warning sounded in Marcus’s voice.

Reggie ignored him. “I could take her far from here. Just the two of us. Together. She’d be horribly compromised and would have no choice but to marry me.”

“Reggie!”

“What?” Reggie met his friend’s disapproving gaze and sighed. “Granted, it’s not how I wanted it. And perhaps it’s not particularly honorable, but I would ultimately do the honorable thing and marry her. Indeed, I would insist on it.”

“Reggie,” Marcus said firmly.

“Very well then, I won’t abduct her. But I reserve the right to do so should it become necessary.” Reggie heaved a resigned sigh. “Marcus, I’m certain she cares for me, or at least there is the very distinct possibility she could care for me given a few more moments in gardens like this one and the absence of any conceivable Lord Perfect.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to lose her.”

“You don’t have her,” Marcus said pointedly. “You never have had her. Besides, there is always Miss Wonderful—or rather, Miss Bellingham—as another option. You could do far worse.”

“I don’t want Miss Bellingham, she’s too…too…” Reggie searched for the right word. “Easy, I think. To deal with, that is. I can’t imagine life with her would be any sort of challenge at all.”

“No, I daresay she’d never give a man a bit of real trouble. Indeed, she’s all every man could ever want. She’s an excellent match.”

“I don’t want an excellent match. I don’t want Miss Wonderful. I want Cassandra.”

“You do realize you’re quite mad?”

“I’ve known that for some time.” Reggie turned and started back toward the hall. “At the very least, I can certainly make sure Cassandra is never in Drummond’s presence unaccompanied. Who knows what vile plans the man may have in mind.”

“No vile plans at all, I should think. Remember, he’s perfect.”

“Hah,” Reggie tossed back over his shoulder. “No man is perfect.”

“There is a bright side to this, you know,” Marcus called after him. “Your wager will be a draw. You won’t lose forty pounds.”

“No,” Reggie muttered. “I could lose a great deal more.”

The Pennington guests assembled in an unhurried manner in the hall’s gallery in advance of dinner. Cassie divided her attention between watching the entry and amicable chatter with Delia, Gwen, her cousin Thomas’s wife—Lady Helmsley, or rather Marianne, among friends and family—and the somewhat prune-faced, firmly-on-the-shelf Miss Hilliard. On the other side of the room, her cousin Thomas was engaged with Lord Pennington, a Colonel Fargate, Lord Townsend, and a Mr. Whiting in what appeared to be an animated discussion about politics or something equally as boring. In yet another group, Miss Bellingham chatted with her mother, her brother, Lady Pennington, and the colonel’s daughter.

As much as Cassie hated to admit it, Miss Bellingham was indeed extremely pleasant even if, upon their introduction by Delia, the young woman had studied her with a frankly assessing eye. As if taking measure of her worth. Or appraising an adversary. There had been nothing untoward about it; still, it had been rather disturbing.

Cassie hadn’t seen any of Reggie’s family yet, nor had she seen her own brothers, although she had heard they had arrived. Indeed, Delia said they had arrived in tandem with a Mr. Drummond, and although she had yet to see the gentleman herself, Delia was fairly confident, based on Gwen’s enthusiastic description, that he was Lord Perfect.

Not that Cassie had more than a passing curiosity in whomever Reggie might present. Oh, she would certainly flirt with the gentleman, but only in an effort to win Reggie’s attention.

“Good Lord.” Delia nudged her sister with her elbow, her gaze fixed firmly on the doorway.

“I told you I did not exaggerate.” Gwen too stared at the new arrival.

“He’s really rather magnificent.” Miss Hilliard sighed in the manner of a girl not yet out of the schoolroom, and for a moment she seemed far younger than her years.

“I’m not sure magnificent is the right word,” Marianne said thoughtfully, “but I cannot think of one more appropriate.”

“Come now.” Cassie laughed. “He can’t possibly…” She turned and stared in stunned silence. Lord Perfect stood framed in the doorway.

Or at least the embodiment of Lord Perfect. And given the expressions on the faces of the other women, he was not merely Cassie’s Lord Perfect but any woman’s Lord Perfect. While Cassie was certain she had never detailed standards for Lord Perfect’s appearance, the gentleman now surveying the room with a relaxed, confident air more than surpassed anything even her fertile imagination could conceive of. He was tall, but not too tall, with fair hair that glowed around his head like the halo of an angel, made all the more golden next to the tan of his skin. In his stance alone, he had the manner of a man as used to a ballroom as to the out-of-doors. The smile on his face was genuine, as if he had no idea of the effect of his appearance on the female members of the assembly.

All in all, while it remained to be seen if his character did indeed fit the requirements of Lord Perfect, Cassie could not think of a single complaint thus far. It would not be a particular hardship to flirt with him, simply in an effort to draw out Reggie’s feelings, of course. Why, what man on earth wouldn’t be jealous of a man who looked like this one?

Cassie smiled in anticipation.

“I must admit, words fail me,” Delia said under her breath.

Gwen nodded. “He may well be the handsomest man I have ever seen.”

Miss Hilliard sighed again. “He may well be the handsomest man anyone has ever seen.”

“Surely he has some flaws.” Marianne peered at him over her spectacles. “He can’t possibly be as perfect as he looks.”

Cassie shook her head. “No man can be as perfect as he looks.”

“I should think it would be rather exciting to find out,” Miss Hilliard murmured.

Gwen’s mouth dropped open. The other women stared. Miss Hilliard’s eyes widened, and a blush swept up her face. With color in her cheeks and her dour expression replaced by a charming embarrassment, she looked almost attractive. At once, Cassie realized the woman was not nearly as old as Cassie had first thought, probably barely past thirty. And wondered as well if the severe facade Miss Hilliard presented to the world didn’t hide yet another woman forced to live off the charity of her family because she had no particular skills and no other choice.

Marianne raised a brow. “My goodness, Miss Hilliard.”

“My apologies, Lady Helmsley.” Miss Hilliard’s blush deepened, if possible. “I should never…Indeed, I have never…I don’t know what came over me.”

“My dear, you simply said what the rest of us were thinking.”
Marianne smiled in a conspiratorial manner.
“As I didn’t have the courage to say it myself, I am quite impressed.”

“As am I,” Gwen said, still staring at her cousin.

Miss Hilliard smiled weakly.

“He’s coming over,” Delia said under her breath.

As if of one mind, the women turned toward him.

Lord Perfect strode across the room and took Gwen’s hand, raising it to his lips in a polished manner that bespoke of a natural grace—or a great deal of practice.

“Lady Pennington, I must tell you again how pleased I am to have been included in your party.” He favored Gwen with a smile that was at once intimate yet not the least bit offensive. “Aside from a handful of relations, I know few people in England.”

“I am delighted you could join us, Mr. Drummond.” Gwen pulled her hand, and her gaze, from his and gestured at the other ladies. “I believe you have already met my cousin, Miss Hilliard.”

Miss Hilliard nodded acknowledgment and cast him a startlingly brilliant smile. He returned one just as bright, as if he were genuinely pleased to see her.

“May I present Lady Helmsley.”

“It is my pleasure, my lady.” Drummond took Marianne’s hand and favored her with the same personal yet polite attention he had given to Gwen. It remained to be seen if the man was indeed perfect, but he was most definitely good.

“Indeed,” Marianne murmured.

“And this is Lady St. Stephens and her sister, Miss Effington.”

“My lady.” He brushed a kiss across Delia’s hand, then turned to Cassie and took her hand. His rather perfect blue eyes met her gaze. “Miss Effington, your brother did not do you or your sister justice.”

Cassie laughed. “I’m not sure I wish to hear precisely what he did say.”

“He said,” a perfect smile quirked his perfect lips, “you were lovely.”

He was very good indeed, and Cassie wondered just how perfect he really was. And wondered as well why, when there was not the least bit wrong with him in either manner or appearance that she could note thus far, aside from a basic sense of curiosity, she wasn’t the least bit intrigued by him. He raised her hand to his lips and her gaze slipped past him to note her brothers and Reggie entering the room. Reggie’s gaze met hers and she smiled, then redirected her attention to Mr. Drummond and laughed with true delight.

“Mr. Drummond, you shall have me blushing down to my very toes.” She favored him with her most flirtatious smile.

“One can only wish, Miss Effington,” he said smoothly.

Delia choked back a laugh. Marianne and Gwen exchanged amused glances, and Miss Hilliard sighed. Again.

Drummond released her hand in a flatteringly regretful manner and turned to Gwen. “Lady Pennington, could I prevail upon you to introduce me to your other guests?”

“I was just about to suggest that.” Gwen cast him a perfect smile of her own. “If you will excuse us?”

The women murmured their acquiescence and watched Drummond escort Gwen to another group of guests.

“He certainly appears perfect,” Cassie said thoughtfully.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Marianne grinned. “What an interesting mix of guests Gwen has amassed. It should be a most intriguing next few days.” She nodded to the other ladies and crossed the room to join her husband.

“Miss Hilliard.” A curious light shone in Delia’s eyes. “Have you met my brothers yet?”

Miss Hilliard tore her gaze from Drummond and shook her head. “I don’t believe so.”

“Then you simply must allow me to introduce you.” Delia hooked her arm through the other woman’s and escorted her to an unsuspecting Leo and Christian.

Cassie turned to find Reggie bearing down on her with an older woman and a young lady.

“Miss Effington,” Reggie said, his manner polite and distinctly noncommittal, as if nothing whatsoever had ever happened between them. As if they weren’t even friends. It was most annoying. “Allow me to present my mother, Lady Berkley, and my sister, Miss Lucy Berkley.”

“Miss Effington.” Lady Berkley took Cassie’s hands. “I am delighted to meet you at last.”

“The pleasure is mine, my lady. I must say I am pleased to see you looking so well.” Cassie smiled down at Reggie’s mother. She stood several inches shorter than Cassie, with pale blonde hair, a figure that was full but not excessively so, and a charming air of mild confusion about her. And her eyes were a distinct shade of gray. “I understand you have been quite ill.”

“It was a miracle, a genuine miracle. Lord knows I don’t deserve it, but I am most grateful for it. Why, one day I was at death’s door, and the next, I was completely fit.” The older woman sighed in a heartfelt manner. “I don’t mind telling you, I quite thought I would breathe my last at any moment.”

Cassie glanced at Reggie, who pressed his lips together in an obvious effort to hold his tongue. How very odd. His mother was a bit overly dramatic perhaps, but there was no need for him to adopt that longsuffering expression.

“Now that you have recovered your health, I should like to show you the final drawings for the rooms at Berkley House for your approval. I intend to complete them during my stay here in the country, and we can begin arranging the necessary work upon our return to town.”

“Oh no, my dear, my opinion is of no consequence whatsoever.” Lady Berkley’s eyes widened, as if Cassie had suggested something truly shocking, and shook her head firmly. “No, no, I have left this entirely in Reginald’s hands—and yours, of course. After all, the express purpose of doing it at all is for the benefit of his future, not mine. I never interfere in my son’s life.”

Reggie snorted.

His mother ignored him. “Besides, he tells me you have wonderful ideas and a great deal of talent. Beyond that, I have seen other houses that have benefited from your touch, and I am most impressed.”

She patted Cassie’s hand and leaned forward in a confidential manner. “I have no doubt as to the outcome of this endeavor. No doubt at all.” Lady Berkley released Cassie’s hand and beamed. Reggie rolled his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Miss Effington.” Lucy’s eyes were bright with interest. “Do tell me about your brother.”

“My brother?” Cassie studied the girl cautiously. She was quite lovely, with dark hair and a hint of great beauty yet to come, and a youthful but overly lush, indeed, ripe figure. And gray eyes that obviously ran in the family. “Which brother?”

“Why, I’m not entirely sure.” Lucy’s pretty brow furrowed. “Whichever brother it was that Reggie in—”

“That I bested in the race,” Reggie cut in. “That would be the younger Mr. Effington.”

“Christian.” Cassie nodded.

“Christian,” Lucy said slowly, as if savoring the sound of the name, a distinctly calculating look in her eye.

Cassie glanced at Reggie and raised a brow. Precisely how old was this sister?

Reggie glared at the girl. “I knew allowing you to attend this party was a mistake.”

“Nonsense, Reginald.” Lady Berkley waved off his comment. “Aside from the fact that it was not your decision, she is nearly seventeen and will be out in society before you know it. I, for one, would much prefer she get a sample of what’s ahead of her in a situation in which she can’t possibly get into any real trouble.” Lady Berkley gave her daughter an affectionate smile. “As I have the assurance of nearly everyone in attendance that her every move will be watched every moment.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with horror. “Mother! How could you even think of doing such a thing? How humiliating. My very life will be ruined before it’s barely begun!”

“Yes, I know, dear. My mother ruined my life in just such a manner, and I am confident you will do the exact same thing when you have a daughter. However, I did manage to have a very good time nonetheless, in spite of my mother’s best efforts, when and only when,” Lady Berkley paused for effect,

“I was old enough to do so.”

“Mother.” Lucy groaned.

“Now, darling…” She nodded at the other side of the room. “Do go flutter your lashes at Mr. Effington and practice all those flirtatious looks on him that I have seen you practice in the mirror, and remember it is only practice, because absolutely no one here, and I am confident, knowing his mother, that that includes Mr. Effington himself, will allow you to do more than merely practice.”

Lady Berkley flashed Cassie a knowing smile, and at once Cassie understood there was far more to this woman than appeared at first glance. And understood as well why it was more than likely Lady Berkley and her own mother were indeed old friends. They had a great deal in common.

“If you will excuse me, Lady Pennington, Helena—Lord Pennington’s mother, that is—is waving at me to join her in a most insistent manner.” Lady Berkley met Cassie’s gaze directly. “I’m certain we shall have some time together to talk during our stay here. I am quite looking forward to it.”

“As am I,” Cassie murmured. As much as this woman reminded her of her own mother, she liked her. Not in spite of the similarities but because of them.

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “Well, I shan’t so much as smile at him now. She’s taken all the fun out of it.”

“Excellent,” Reggie snapped.

“As you wish. Still”—Cassie adopted a casual tone—“my brothers are not the only unmarried gentlemen here. Lord Bellingham is not unattractive and fairly close to your own age.”

“Miss Effington.” Reggie narrowed his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She paid him no heed. “And of course, there is Mr. Drummond. If there was ever a gentleman one could practice the art of flirtation upon, it would be Mr. Drummond.”

Lucy’s gaze shifted to the gentleman in question. “He is rather handsome.”

“Miss Effington,” Reggie growled.

“Oh, I’d say he’s more than merely handsome,” Cassie said lightly. “I’d say he’s…oh, what’s the word, my lord?”

Reggie stared at her for a moment, then smiled in the grudging manner of a man who just realizes he’s lost. “Perfect?”

“Yes, indeed, that’s it.” Cassie bit back a grin. “Perfect, or so he appears at the moment.”

“I’m not sure I want perfect. I’m not sure there’s anything at all fun about perfect. There is something so much more interesting about,” Lucy’s gaze slid from Drummond to Christian, “imperfect.”

“Lucy.” An odd note of panic sounded in Reggie’s voice.

“You needn’t worry, dear brother.” Lucy directed her words at Reggie, but her gaze fixed firmly on Christian. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders and looked far older than a mere sixteen years.

“This is nothing more than…practice.” She grinned at Cassie and sailed across the room, leaving her brother to stare after her.

“It may not be readily apparent,” Cassie said in a low voice, “but Christian is an honorable man not given to dallying with young girls no matter how charming they may be. She is probably safer with him than she would be with a youth of her own age.”

Reggie set his jaw in a stubborn line. “His reputation does not provoke much confidence on that score.”

“Nor does yours.”

“It’s an entirely different thing,” he said loftily.

“I see.” She resisted the urge to grin. “You cannot trust your younger sister with a man of my brother’s reputation, yet you see no difficulty with his trusting his younger sister with you.”

The corners of his lips quirked upwards reluctantly. “You are far too clever for your own good or mine. You do know that, don’t you?”

She laughed.

“Still and all, as I was saying, it is an entirely different thing, because Lucy is still a child, whereas you

—”

She raised a brow. “Yes?”

“You are a woman. Intelligent and confident and,” his eyes gazed down into hers, “most desirable.”

She swallowed hard. “That is a most improper thing to say.”

“Indeed it is. It is also accurate.”

Her gaze locked with his, his gray eyes searching and mesmerizing. Her breath caught at the look she saw there, or perhaps the look she wanted to see, or maybe it was no more than a simple reflection. Nonetheless, she stared into his eyes and the rest of the room faded away, lost in an all-consuming fog that left only the two of them. Alone. Together.

“So,” his gaze dropped to her lips and back to her eyes. “Will Drummond do, then? For Lord Perfect, I mean.”