“Come, Cass, Old Winslow has put up a hunter for sale and I have promised to see her this afternoon. May I have the pleasure of your company?”
“Indeed you may, my lord. If we must spend the afternoon looking at a hunter, I would far rather do it now than after we are married.”
Chapter 4
“Drat you, Miss Cassie. Hold still, else you’ll have your buttons all askew.”
“Oh, do hurry, Dolly, our guests will arrive at any moment.”
Dolly Mintlow shook her head fondly at her fidgeting mistress and curled her arthritic fingers to fasten the tiny buttons on the back of Cassie’s ivory satin gown. “There, Miss, all done now. But look at your hair, you’ve already shook loose a curl.”
Cassie sighed and forced herself to sit quietly as Dolly put her hair to rights again. She frowned at herself in the mirror.
“I wish we didn’t have to bother with all this nonsense. Why can’t I just look like me? All that powder, it makes me feel like an old woman.”
“You’re no longer a girl, Miss Cassie, and young ladies powder their hair. If only you had more vanity. With the way you’re always bouncing about, I wager you’ll have white powder all over your gown.”
“At least the gown is white.”
“Dolly is right, Cassandra. A little more decorum on your part would not be at all amiss. There are many important guests coming tonight, and I don’t want them to think you a hoyden.”
Cassie assumed a docile expression, lowered her head, and began to twiddle her thumbs. “Now do I have your approval, Becky?”
Miss Petersham merely grunted, and patted several errant strands of pepper-colored hair primly into place beneath her lacy cap. “No need to play off your tricks with me, Cassie. Now stand up and let me see how the gown fits.”
Cassie rose and obligingly performed a slow pirouette in front of Miss Petersham.
“You’ll do. Come along now, you must needs greet the guests with Eliott and the viscount.”
“Oh, Becky, why must you always refer to Edward as the viscount? It’s so terribly impersonal, as though he is nothing more than a casual guest in this house.”
Miss Petersham merely gave her an austere look, and said, “And you treat him with far too much familiarity.”
“Very well, my beloved dragon, I shall be most circumspect—at least for the next week. But after Edward and I are married, I vow I shall become very sinful.”
“You look like an angel, Miss Cassie,” Dolly said, unaware that she had interrupted at an opportune moment.
“With all this white powder, I even feel like an angel. You will help me brush it all out later, Dolly?”
“Of course, Miss Cassandra. I’ll be waiting up for you.”
Cassie gave her maid a quick hug and followed Miss Petersham from the bedchamber. As she trailed after her companion down the wide, winding stairs, she felt a delicious shudder. Just one more week and she would be the Viscountess Delford. She smiled at Miss Petersham’s straight back, knowing that her thoughts would bring a shocked squeal from that lady. Only that afternoon, Becky had called Cassie to her room and, after some roundabout conversation, had stiffly inquired if Cassie understood what would be demanded of her on her wedding night.
Cassie stifled a laugh and displayed what she hoped was maidenly shock. “I believe I do have a very general idea, Becky.”
Miss Petersham breathed an audible sigh of relief. “A very general idea is all that is necessary. Your husband will see to the specifics.”
“I daresay Edward does have sufficient experience to be able to carry everything off smoothly.” She gazed up apprehensively at Miss Petersham after her unthinking comment, and saw that she was regarding her oddly, her expression serious and her hazel eyes narrowed in concern.
“I am sorry, Becky, to tease you so,” Cassie said quickly, her hand on her companion’s arm.
“No, child, you are not teasing me.” She looked as if she would have said more. Quickly, she was behaving in much her old way, briskly reminding Cassie not to chew on her thumbnail like some peasant child.