Seducing an Angel

"I am positively green with envy, if you will excuse the pun, over your gown. Why can I /never/ find any fabric half so gorgeous whenever I look? Not that I would look good in that particular shade of green. I do believe I would fade into invisibility behind it. But even so… Oh, dear, Graham's eyes are glazing over, and Moreland is wondering when he can decently escape."

She laughed and linked an arm through Cassandra's.

"Come, Lady Paget," she said. "You and I will stroll together and discuss dress and bo

And, true to her word, she led Cassandra off on a slow promenade of the perimeter of the ballroom floor as couples gathered on it for the next set.

"I am Lord Sheringford's mama," Lady Carling explained, "and I love him to distraction – though if you ever quote me on that, Lady Paget, I shall stoutly deny it. He has led me a merry dance over the years, but he will not have the satisfaction of knowing he has made me suffer, the wretch.

However, he has, despite himself, I believe, made an extremely good match with Margaret. She is a treasure beyond compare. I dote upon her and upon my two grandsons and one granddaughter even if the first son /was/ born out of wedlock, a fact that was not in any way his fault, was it?"

"Lady Carling," Cassandra said quietly, "I did not come here tonight to cause trouble."

"Well, of course you did not," that lady said, smiling warmly at her.

"But you /have/ caused something of a sensation, have you not? And you had the nerve to wear that bright dress into the bargain. I suppose you had no choice but to bring that glorious red hair too, but of course the gown /does/ draw even more attention to it than would otherwise be the case. I applaud your courage."

Cassandra looked for irony in the words or in Lady Carling's ma

"I scolded Duncan a few years ago," Lady Carling continued, "when he attended a ball uninvited after returning to London with all the baggage of a horrifying scandal weighing him down. It was all /very/ reminiscent of what you have done tonight. And do you know what was the very first thing he did after arriving at that ball, Lady Paget?"

Cassandra looked back at her, her eyebrows raised, though she thought she knew the answer.

"He collided with Margaret in the ballroom doorway," Lady Carling said,

"and he asked her to dance with him and then marry him – all in one sentence, if he is to be believed. I /do/ believe him because Margaret tells the same story and she is not prone to exaggeration. Yet they had never set eyes upon each other before that moment. Sometimes being daring and defying the /ton/ can be a worthwhile venture, Lady Paget. I can only hope that you will be as fortunate as Duncan has been. For of course I do not believe there is any truth to that axe business. You would not be free or even alive, I suppose, if there were. Unless the problem is simply lack of proof, of course. But I do not believe it, and I am /not/ going to ask. You must come to my at-home tomorrow afternoon.

My other guests will be astonished and outraged – and will talk of nothing else for the next month. I will be famous. Everyone will come to all my other at-homes for the rest of the Season lest they miss something equally sensational. Do say you will come. Say you will have the /courage/ to come."

There was perhaps goodness left in the world after all, Cassandra thought as she smiled her half-scornful smile and looked about the ballroom. There were people who would treat her with courtesy even if their main motive /was/ to avoid further embarrassment at the ball. And there were people who would reach out the hand of friendship even if they /were/ perhaps partly motivated by selfish concerns.

It was far more than she had expected.

If she were not so desperately poor…

"I will think about it," she said.

"I am sure you will," Lady Carling said, and told Cassandra where her house might be found on Curzon Street. "I have been delighted to take this break from dancing, Lady Paget. I never like to admit my age, but when I dance more than two consecutive sets or when I spend more than an hour playing with my grandchildren – the two who are not still nicely settled in a cradle – then I /feel/ my age, alas."

The Earl of Merton was dancing with a very young and pretty lady, who was blushing and gazing up at him with worshipful, sparkling eyes. He was smiling at her and talking to her and giving her the whole of his attention.

He was going to sleep with /her/ tonight, Cassandra thought, and afterward she was going to do business with him. She believed she had done well. She knew she had attracted him physically. She had also very subtly engaged his pity. He thought her alone and lonely. It did not matter that it was at least partly true. /She would have it no other way/.

But she would draw him into her web, whether he really wished to be there or not. She needed him.

No, not /him/.

She needed his money.

Alice needed it. So did Mary and Belinda. And even dear Roger.

She had to remind herself of them. Only so could she bear the burden of self-loathing that suddenly descended like a real physical weight across her shoulders.

He was an amiable, courteous gentleman.

He was also a /man/. And men had needs. She would service those needs for the Earl of Merton. She would not be stealing his money. She would give good value in return.

She need not feel guilty.

"I have enjoyed the break from dancing too," she told Lady Carling.

/5/

"LADY Paget," the Duchess of Moreland said when the ball was over and crowds of people milled about, looking for spouses and offspring and shawls and fans, bidding friends and acquaintances good night, heading for the staircase and the hall below so that they would be there when it was the turn for their particular carriage to draw up in front of the steps. The duchess had just introduced herself. "Did you come in your carriage?"

"I did not," Cassandra said, "but Lord Merton has been kind enough to offer me a ride home in his."

"Ah, good." The duchess smiled. "Elliott and I would have been delighted to take you to your door, but you will be safe in Stephen's hands." /Stephen/. His name was Stephen. It somehow suited him.

The duchess linked an arm through hers.

"Let us go and find him," she said. "This end-of-evening crush is always the worst part of balls, but I am delighted there /is/ a crush tonight.

Meg was terrified that no one would come."

Cassandra saw the Earl of Merton striding toward them before they had taken more than a few steps.

"Nessie," he said, smiling at them both, "you have found Lady Paget, have you?"

"I do not believe she was lost, Stephen," she said. "But she is waiting for you to take her home."

It seemed to Cassandra that it took an age for them to leave the ballroom, descend the stairs, and make their way across the hall toward the front doors. But she soon realized why they were in no hurry. The duchess and Lord Merton were the Countess of Sheringford's sister and brother, and no doubt their carriages would be at the very back of the line.

Eventually there was no one left but the duke and duchess, Lord and Lady Montford, to whom the duchess introduced Cassandra, the Earl of Merton, Sir Graham and Lady Carling, and the Earl and Countess of Sheringford, who had just finished bidding their guests good night.

And Cassandra.

The irony of now being so very conspicuous when she had come uninvited to the ball did not escape her. Neither did the discomfort of being the only nonfamily guest still present. /Especially under the circumstances/.

Both Lady Carling and Baron Montford had offered to take her home in their carriages. She had assured both of them that Lord Merton had been kind enough to offer first.