Seducing an Angel

But she did not smile or look particularly happy. Neither did Kate.

Stephen did not ask them what they meant – it was all too obvious.

They were wrong, though.

He was merely attempting to set right a wrong.

He was merely trying to bring some joy to Cassandra's life so that his conscience could rest in peace.

They rode on in silence.

/13/

CASSANDRA spent the following morning on Oxford Street. She was not shopping for herself, however. She had asked Mary if she might take Belinda with her in order to buy her a sunbo

The task was accomplished at the very first shop they entered, and Belinda came out wearing a pretty blue cotton bo

Belinda was wide-eyed with the splendor of it and turned when they left the shop to admire her image in the glass.

They strolled along the street, hand in hand, until they stopped outside a toy shop. Soon Belinda's nose was pressed to the glass as she stared silently through it. She showed no visible excitement, no expectation that anything in the window or the shop would ever be hers. She demanded nothing. But she was obviously lost to the world around her.

Cassandra watched her fondly. Just having the chance to stand and gaze was probably enough to make this the high point of Belinda's day. She was a remarkably contented child.

She was gazing, Cassandra realized, not at everything in the window, but at one particular toy – a doll. It was not the largest or fanciest.

Indeed, it was just the opposite. It was a baby doll, made of china and wearing only a simple cotton nightgown as it lay on a white woolen shawl. After gazing and gazing, Belinda lifted one hand and waved her fingers slowly.

Cassandra blinked back tears. As far as she knew, Belinda had no toys.

"I think," she said, "that baby needs a mama."

"Baby." Belinda pressed her hand against the glass.

"Would you like to hold him?" Cassandra asked.

The child's head turned and she gazed up at Cassandra with big, solemn eyes. Slowly she nodded.

"Come, then," Cassandra said, and took the child's hand again and led her inside the shop.

It was a foolish extravagance. She was no longer Lord Merton's mistress, was she? And she had already bought the bo

It all seemed worthwhile when the shop assistant leaned into the window and lifted out the doll and placed it in Belinda's arms.

Cassandra would not have been surprised to see the child's eyes pop right out of her head. Belinda gazed at the china baby with slightly open mouth and held it stiffly for a few moments before cradling it in her arms and rocking it gently.

"Would you like to take him home and be his mama?" Cassandra asked gently.

Again Belinda's eyes turned upward, and she nodded.

Behind them a smartly dressed little girl was petulantly demanding the doll with the long blond ringlets, not the stupid one with the velvet dress and pelisse. /And/ she needed the baby carriage because the wheels had come off hers. /And/ the skipping rope because the handles on the one she had had for her birthday last week were an ugly green.

The baby doll came without clothes, Cassandra discovered. She bought the nightdress to go with it and then, because Belinda kissed the baby's forehead and promised in a whisper to keep him warm, she bought the blanket too.

She had had no idea children's toys were so expensive.

But as they walked out of the shop she did not regret the extravagance.

Belinda was still virtually speechless. But she did remember something of the persistent teachings of Mary. She looked up at Cassandra, her baby held close in her arms.

"Thank you, my lady," she said.

There was nothing careless about her gratitude. It was heartfelt.

"Well," Cassandra said, "we could not just leave him there without a mama, could we?"

"She is a girl," Belinda said.

"Oh." Cassandra smiled, and looked up into the smiling faces of Lady Carling and the Countess of Sheringford.

"I /thought/ that was you, Lady Paget," Lady Carling said. "I told Margaret it was, and we crossed the road to make sure. What a charming child. Is she yours?"

"Oh, no," Cassandra said. "Her mother is my housekeeper, cook, maid – my everything."

"She is Belinda," the countess said, "and I see that she is wearing her smart new shoes. How do you do, Lady Paget? It looks as if you have a new baby, Belinda. May I see her? /Is/ she a girl?"

Belinda nodded and moved the blanket back from the doll's face.

"Oh, she is lovely," the countess said. "And she looks warm and contented. Does she have a name?"

"Beth," Belinda said.

"That is pretty," the countess said. "Beth is usually short for Elizabeth. Did you know that? But Elizabeth is far too big a name for such a tiny baby. You are wise to call her Beth."

"Margaret and I are on our way to the bakery for a cup of tea," Lady Carling said. "Will you join us, Lady Paget? I am sure there will be at least one cake there to take Belinda's fancy. And surely they serve lemonade."

Cassandra's first instinct was to say no. But it could do her no harm to be seen in public with such ladies. If she could become gradually more and more accepted in society, perhaps eventually she would be able to find some elderly or sickly lady who needed a companion and would trust her enough to employ her. It was not a happy prospect, and she did not know what would happen to Alice and Mary when the time came, but…

Well, it did no harm to accept any olive branch that was freely extended to her.

"Thank you," she said. "Belinda, would you like a cake?"

Belinda, saucer-eyed again, nodded and then remembered her ma

"Yes, please, my lady," she said.

The ladies sat talking for almost an hour while Belinda sat quietly at the table, first eating the white cake with the pink icing that she had chosen with meticulous care, then holding her cup with both hands to drink the lemonade, and finally wiping her mouth and hands carefully with her linen napkin so that she could rock her doll again. She murmured to it and kissed it as the ladies talked.

"It is a lovely day for your picnic in Richmond," the countess said.

"A picnic?" Lady Carling looked at Cassandra with interest. "How lovely for you. There is no better way to spend a summer afternoon, is there?"

"My former governess, who lives with me, is only forty-two years old,"

Cassandra said. "Far too young to go as far as Richmond for a picnic alone with a gentleman of the same age – or so she believes. When Mr.

Golding came calling yesterday afternoon to ask her to go, she hesitated, though she clearly wanted to say yes. And so Lord Merton offered his services and mine as chaperones."

They all laughed – at the very moment when the Earl of Merton himself and Mr. Huxtable, angel and devil, walked past the bakery window.

Cassandra's heart or stomach – or /something/ – turned over. There was a very young lady on Lord Merton's arm, the one with whom he had danced the opening set at his sister's ball, and his head was bent to listen to what she said. He was smiling down at her.