The Accidental Countess (6 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

The devil on Cass’s shoulder had won. It was that simple. The devil came to her sometimes, the pesky little beast, after their first meeting on her sixteenth birthday. How well she remembered his awful insistence that day. His advice had been surprising, to be sure, and ultimately futile. But in the matter of Lucy and the fictitious house party, in the end, Cass had listened to the horrible little fiend. From his perch on her shoulder, he had enticingly told her she might have a bit of fun at a house party with Julian, regardless of the outcome and the hopelessness of the entire situation. Oh, she had doubts, scores of them, worries and doubts and outright anxiety, but she’d managed to push it all aside and pretend.

Pretend. That’s what Lucy said they were doing. It was a lark, like acting in a play. And they so adored plays. The servants would pretend, too. Lucy had simply told them all that they were having a sort of playacting house party, something like a masquerade, but without the feathers and dominoes. Lucy could be so persuasive.

“Haven’t you been telling me that you want to change? Be different? Stand up to your parents more?” Lucy had prodded, knowing exactly how to prod. “Now’s your chance. Be bold! Do the things you’ve never imagined you could do. You’ll surprise yourself, I’m certain of it.”

She’d surprise herself? Cass had liked the sound of that. She’d spent her childhood and young adulthood following every rule to the letter. She’d painted and sung, and played the pianoforte. She’d curtsied and danced and said all the right things to all the right people. She’d been demure as if she invented demureness. She’d listened to her mother and father, been kind and understanding to her older brother. She’d asked after all the servants, seen to all of her friends, and now, now, just what if it was her time? Her time to be a bit scandalous, her time to finally break a rule or two instead of just daydreaming about doing it.

“For the next sennight, you are Patience Bunbury,” Lucy had announced. And somehow that had given Cass permission to go ahead and break rules. She wasn’t demure Cassandra Monroe any longer, she was Patience Bunbury and she’d already decided … Patience Bunbury was quite wicked indeed.

And so Cass had jotted off a letter to Pen, informing her that she’d done just as her cousin had asked and told Captain Swift that Pen was attending Patience Bunbury’s house party. Cass just happened to leave out the part that she herself was en route to that same house party and, oh, pretending to be Patience, as well. Instead, she’d told Pen that she and Lucy were retiring to the country for a bit. Cass had been certain lightning would strike her as she’d written the letter. It was dreadful of her to continue to lie, first to Julian, now to Pen. But that pesky little devil didn’t care.

“Pen started it,” Lucy had pointed out with a shrug. That had only served to make Cass feel all the more guilty. That was absolutely no excuse. Was it? Oh, there was that blasted devil again.

Cass traced her finger along the windowpane of the coach as she and Lucy traveled to the countryside. They bounced along in the duchess’s new, resplendent vehicle, Cass trying not to bite at her fingernails every time she so much as thought of what she was traveling into: a giant falsehood.

The grand estate of the Earl of Upbridge, Lucy’s father, was settled in the quiet countryside of Surrey. A sense of calm settled over Cass when the manor house finally came into sight. She had grown up here in a sense. Her parents’ estate was less than three miles away. She sat up straight and gulped. “Lucy, what if my parents get word of this house party and decide to pay a visit to your parents?”

Lucy laughed. “Cass, you’re forgetting that your parents are decidedly unhappy with my family at present. It’s perfect timing, actually. And didn’t you send your mother a letter?”

“Yes. I informed her that I am staying with you in town for the next week.”

“Settled, then.”

Cass bit her lip. “Only if my parents remain safely over at their estate.”

“I anticipate no problems,” Lucy replied with a smile, pulling on her gloves as they approached the front of the manor house.

Cass sighed. Of course Lucy was convinced everything would be quite all right. Cass, however, lived in constant fear that her mother would arrive, tell Julian everything, and demand her daughter return home instantly. Her mother had never cared much for her daughter’s infatuation with Julian, and it had little to do with the fact that he was marked for her cousin. “He’s a second son, Cassandra. He might be good enough for Penelope, but we didn’t raise
you
to marry a second son.”

That was just it. Her parents had raised her to marry a man with a title, an illustrious title, the more illustrious the better. The only reason they hadn’t completely disowned her for turning down a duke was the fact that somewhere in the back of her mother’s mind, she was probably thinking that Cass might marry a duke with a family name that went back centuries and that would be an even better catch than the newly minted Claringdon. That’s all she was to her mother, a pawn to be played in the great game of the
ton
’s marriage mart.

When Lucy’s coach finally pulled to a stop at the entrance to the estate, the butler and housekeeper were there to greet them with a bow and a curtsy.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said as she ushered them into the foyer of the manor house. “The servants, we’ve all been aflurry preparing for the party. Everything is arranged.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Prism,” Lucy responded, allowing the butler to take her hat and cloak and waiting for Cass to hand over the same. “But you must remember you cannot refer to me as ‘Your Grace’ during the party. And this is Miss Bunbury.” She gestured to Cass.

“Of course. Of course.” The housekeeper chuckled. The butler had a twinkle in his eyes. They continued into the house. It smelled exactly as Cass remembered it from childhood, a mixture of lemon wax and silver polish. The bustling of the servants and the smiles on everyone’s faces bolstered Cass’s confidence. As the day progressed, Cass noticed that true to Lucy’s word, all of the servants appeared to be completely at ease with calling their mistress Lady Worthing and pretending Cass was named Patience Bunbury. In fact, they’d already begun. It was quite ludicrous, actually, but Cass had to smile at the willingness of the earl’s servants to participate in their mistress’s foibles. They did appear to be completely devoted to Lucy.

When the butler stopped by to get Lucy’s approval on the wines to be served with the first dinner, she answered, “Thank you, Merriman.”

“My pleasure, Lady Worthing.” He bowed before taking his leave.

“Leave it to you to orchestrate such madness, Lucy,” Cass said with a laugh.

“They think it’s a lark, dear. There’s no reason this shouldn’t be fun.”

“I see.” Cass pressed a hand to her belly. Perhaps it would be all right after all.
Perhaps
.

“The servants have done an outstanding job. All we have to do is see to the finishing touches. Come along.” Lucy turned in a swirl of yellow skirts.

Cass spent the rest of the day following her friend through the cavernous rooms as they made the last-minute plans for the house party’s amusements. Mrs. Prism tracked them with a quill and parchment to scribble down their requests.

“I sent word to Captain Swift letting him know that the house party doesn’t officially begin until Saturday,” Lucy said as they entered one of the drawing rooms.

“What did you say about Pen?” Cass asked.

“I told him that Penelope had been confused as to the start of the thing, hence her leaving London too early. I managed to secure us a few days before Julian appears.” Lucy smiled.

“Yes, but you put us in the position of having to immediately explain to him upon his arrival why Penelope is not here when she left for the house party several days earlier,” Cass replied.

“Leave it all to me,” Lucy said with a simple, confident flick of her wrist.

“You do not have a magic wand, do you?” Cass asked, glancing about under the furniture as if the said wand might be found.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No, I have a quick tongue, and that is even more useful. Magic wands can be stolen, dear.”

Cass shook her head but couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s antics. That was it. If she was going to pretend, she might as well pretend on a grand scale. How many times had she thought, what she wouldn’t give to have a small bit of Lucy’s courage and confidence for a day? Just one day. Though she wouldn’t say no to that magic wand, either.

But this was Cass’s chance, her one chance. She was courageous. She was confident. She was Patience Bunbury! She nodded resolutely and turned to face her friend.

Lucy spread her arms wide, indicating the entire back half of the drawing room. “And here is where we shall play cards after dinner,” she said, turning in a circle and clapping her hands together once. “Of course I shall seat you next to Captain Swift at every opportunity.”

Cass turned in a circle, too. “Seems you’ve thought of everything.”

Lucy nodded. “Of course I have.”

Cass made her way over to the wall and traced a finger along the edge of a portrait hanging there. “Is Jane coming?”

“Absolutely. She says this is one Society event she’s actually looking forward to. In fact, Jane is one of only a few guests I’ve invited. She’s never met Captain Swift, which, of course, is of the utmost importance.”

“When did you plan all of this?” Cass asked, shaking her head.

Lucy grinned. “I was in a flurry of writing letters two nights ago after we spoke with Captain Swift.”

“Who else did you invite? Garrett?” Cass asked, referring to their fourth good friend, Lucy’s first cousin, Garrett Upton. Garrett lived nearby as well. He and his cousin were fast friends and the three of them had grown up together, riding horses and playing games across the neighboring estates.

Lucy’s only brother had died of fever when he was a child. So Garrett, her father’s only brother’s son, stood to inherit Lucy’s father’s earldom because his own father was dead. In fact, Cass suspected that now that she was without the prospect of a husband again, her own parents had turned their marriage-minded gazes toward Garrett Upton. Garrett, of course, was nothing more than a friend to Cass, but because the Upbridge estate bordered the Morelands’ estate, Cass’s father had mentioned upon more than one occasion how much he liked the idea of uniting the two families in land and matrimony.

Lucy turned to face Cass and pursed her lips. “No, ah, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean?”

“With Garrett it’s a bit … complicated.”

Cass narrowed her eyes on her friend. “Why?”

Lucy flourished a hand in the air. “Oh, you know Garrett. Always wanting to do the right thing and tell the truth, et cetera, et cetera. I’ve told him I’m a bit indisposed.” She lowered her voice so Mrs. Prism wouldn’t hear. “He thinks I’m with child and stopped asking questions. It’s perfect. I doubt he’ll come looking for me.”

Cass’s mouth dropped open. “Lucy! You didn’t allow him to think that.”

“Yes. I did.” She winked at Cass. “What? It’s the perfect excuse.”

“You’re completely incorrigible.”

Lucy blinked. “You say that as if I don’t already know it.” Then she turned her attention to the housekeeper. “We’ll meet you in the pantries in ten minutes, Mrs. Prism.”

Mrs. Prism nodded and left the room while Cass made her way over and plopped down on the sofa. She pulled a throw pillow onto her lap and hugged it tightly against her middle. “Who else will be coming to the house party?”

Lucy tapped her finger against her cheek. “I invited Lord Berkeley.”

“Lord Berkeley?”

“Yes, Berkeley.”

Lord Berkeley was one of Garrett’s old friends from school. He was a viscount who lived in the north and rarely came down to town. The friends had met him in Bath last summer where he’d unsuccessfully attempted to court Lucy. Apparently, Lucy had remained on good terms with the viscount.

“How did you manage to convince Lord Berkeley to come down for this?” Cass asked.

“I simply informed him that he owes me a favor after shamelessly pretending to write me beautiful letters last summer.”

Cass’s jaw dropped open. “You did not say that to him, Lucy!”

“I most certainly did. He agreed wholeheartedly and sent his acceptance immediately. And the best part is, he has never met Captain Swift, either.”

Cass pulled up the pillow to her chin. “Nothing you do should surprise me but it does.”

Lucy had wandered over to the far side of the room where she was inspecting some apples in a bowl. She turned back to Cass and called, “Oh, Patience.”

Cass didn’t move. She remained staring blindly into the crackling fireplace.

“Patience!” Lucy said more loudly, slapping her slipper against the marble floor.

This time Cass turned her head. “Yes.”

Lucy put both hands on her hips. “That was a drill. You must get used to responding to that name.”

“Oh, Lucy. What am I going to do? I cannot speak to Julian as if I don’t know him. What if I slip and say something only Cass would know?” Cass said, allowing the pillow to fall back into her lap.

Lucy turned over one of the apples and then stared at it as if its precise placement was of the utmost importance. “Hmm. I suggest you keep quiet if you think you might be tempted to do that.”

“What if Jane or Lord Berkeley mistakenly call me Lady Cassandra?”

“Pretend as if you didn’t hear them and give them a stern look.”

“What if Garrett or Owen or my parents arrive?” Cass asked.

“Garrett’s not going to arrive and why would your brother have any reason to come here? He rarely leaves London.”

“What if—? What if—” Cass glanced around as if searching for another reason to worry.

“What if your head falls off?” Lucy supplied. “Is that what you’re going to say? I swear, Cass, there’s no need to worry. I expect this week to be enormously successful. You should, too.”

“But that’s just it, Lucy. I don’t see how it can be successful. What can we possibly hope to accomplish here?” Cass bent over and rested her forehead on the pillow in her lap.