Page 81 of Unmasking the Earl

She stifled a growl. How could she ever have fallen in love with such an infuriating man?

She became aware of a tension in the room and looked from her cousin’s anxious face to her father’s frown.

“Papa, what are you not saying?”

Becca reached for her hand with a solemn look.

“Now you’re frightening me!” Cassie exclaimed. “Stop it, both of you, and tell me what’s the matter.” What had they been talking about before her dive into self-pity?

Her papa said, “I don’t like to be the bearer of bad tidings, my dear, but…”

Julian. She’d been asking whether he would be at the ball.

“What?” she demanded. “Is it something to do with Julian? Is he ill?”

His head injury had been unpleasant but, surely, he would have been over that by now? Unless infection had set in.

“Not exactly,” her father replied. “But I doubt you’ll be pleased to learn he intends to accompany Lady Lucy to the ball.”

What? Cassie’s mind whirled, but she managed to say, “Oh. I see.”

So, his offer of marriage to Cassie had not been in earnest.

Brilliant. Now both of her suitors had abandoned her.

“There’s more,” her father said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “He hasn’t made it public yet, but I received a note from him this morning. He wanted us to be the first to know.”

She took a deep breath. “I think I know what you’re going to say,” she ventured. “Has Julian asked her to marry him?”

“He has, and has been accepted. I confess, I am much disappointed by his choice. I’d always hoped…but no, it is no matter.” Her father sighed.

“I think he’s making a massive error of judgment,” Becca protested. “She must be a good ten years older than he, and her reputation is appalling!”

“He appears devoted to her,” Papa said. “I don’t understand it myself, not when he has the whole world to choose from. I suppose marriage to Carnforth will bring Lady Lucy respectability again.”

Well, that would save Cassie the awkwardness of having to refuse him, had he persisted in courting her. She couldn’t help but pity him, though. How long would it be before the fickle Lady Lucy made a cuckold of him?

The family’s ruminations on Julian Carnforth’s fate were interrupted by the squeak of the garden gate. Cassie experienced a painful constriction of her stomach at the possibility that the caller might bring a letter from Ned, or even better, be Ned himself.

However, it turned out to be the arrival of their costumes, individually addressed, for the Duke and Duchess of Paxton’s ball.

The first thing Cassie pulled out of her box was a wig. It was made of pale horsehair and formed into a tall mound with several different layers and a delightful frill of ringlets all around the edge. Next came a pair of white silk shoes, with slender heels and large rosettes to decorate them. These were followed by a mask—half face only—with slanted eyeholes and winged edges.

And then came the dress.

“By Juno!” She held it up in front of her, admiring the watered-silk petticoat with its pattern of yellow roses exposed by an open-fronted gown, and the bronze-colored silk damask skirts. Such a pity she must wear the white wig, for the gown matched her hair perfectly. The stomacher was also patterned with golden flowers, and the neckline, rather lower than she was used to wearing, had a delicate edging of lace. The sleeves frothed with lace, as well—gorgeous handmade Belgian lace in the style of the previous century.

It was truly lavish, far more splendid than anything she’d ever worn. It must have cost a fortune!

The only items she would need to provide were the underthings, particularly the boned corsetry required to correctly fill the tightly tapered shape of the upper part of the gown, and the structures necessary to fan out the skirts so one wasn’t constantly trampling on them. Still, with two weeks to go until the ball, there was ample time to make these.

Cassie smiled to herself. For the first time since her return from Aston, she felt almost cheerful. Behind the mask, beneath the sumptuous clothing, she could pretend to be whomever she wanted, just like Cinderella in the fairy tale.

But for her, there would be no Prince Charming at the ball.

She would just have to close the door forever on her love for the Earl of Stranraer and make the best of whatever Fate chose to throw at her.

Chapter Thirty-Six