Chapter 103

In her service to the queen, Cassandra learned that influence was rarely won in the places men expected.

The council chamber was where bills were eventually debated, where councillors would weigh arguments, consider objections, and decide whether the reforms proposed were worth supporting.

Yet long before any of those lords entered the chamber, their opinions were often swayed elsewhere. Over dinner, at social functions like musicales, during house visits, and in idle conversations with their wives.

Cassandra had taken that lesson to heart.

Since her conversation with Draven, she made herself more sociable. She attended balls she might once have declined, accepted invitations to soirées, lingered after dinners rather than retreating as soon as courtesy allowed, and made a particular effort to get better acquainted with the wives of councillors who remained undecided about the bill.

Some of the women were genuinely pleasant, and Cassandra found that she liked several of them. Others she tolerated. Either way, she was building connections, and in her world, the right connections could be worth more than a fortune in gold.

The picnic that afternoon was another such opportunity.

It had been arranged on a wide expanse of land several miles outside the capital, where gently rolling fields stretched toward a distant line of trees bordering the woods.

Several carriages stood beneath the shade of the larger trees, their polished sides catching the afternoon sun, while servants had arranged a long blanket upon the grass and laid out baskets of food, lemonade, cakes, fruit and cold meats.

Farther away, the men had established their own entertainment.

A gunshot rang out a good distance away from the picnic site, startling a flock of birds. It was followed by the sound of boisterous male laughter.

Cassandra glanced in that direction before returning her attention to the women beside her.

There were four of them gathered upon the blanket: Cassandra, Georgiana Harrington, her daughter Constance, and Hester Cavendish.

Georgiana had proved exactly as Cassandra had hoped she might. Warm without being overly familiar, intelligent, and possessed of the sort of grace that made conversation with her effortless.

Constance was much the same, though younger and possessed of a lighter, more playful nature.

Cassandra had already spoken with both women several times at previous gatherings and she felt that the friendliness between them had grown.

Whether that friendliness was because Cassandra was close to the Queen or because they genuinely liked her hardly mattered. The result was the same.

Hester was another matter.

She was the daughter of Viscount Fenwick and had married Lord Rupert Cavendish, a man well in his forties despite Hester herself being only in her late-twenties. She possessed the polished manners expected of a woman of her station, but Cassandra had noticed early on that Hester’s kindness had barbed edges.

She rarely insulted anyone openly, she did not need to.

Her cutting remarks were usually accompanied by a pleasant smile, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of knowing exactly where to sink the knife. Cassandra also knew her to be a passive-aggressive bitch, but that was neither here nor there.

She had already endured several such little cuts from her and had learned not to give Hester the reaction she wanted.

"What have you been occupying yourself with lately?" Constance asked, reaching for a slice of pear from the plate between them.

Cassandra accepted a glass of lemonade from a passing servant before answering. "A great deal of work for Her Majesty. She has required more of my attention of late, and I have been grateful to be of use. There are always matters requiring attention at the palace, though most are considerably less exciting than people imagine."

Georgiana smiled. "I imagine the Queen must be very fortunate to have someone she trusts so closely."

Cassandra returned the smile. "I am the fortunate one."

Their conversation moved naturally from the Queen to the Season, then to a recent musical performance they had all attended. Cassandra was beginning to say something about the singer when Hester suddenly interrupted her.

"And have you given any thought to marriage?"

The question came so smoothly that, for a moment, it almost sounded innocent.

Almost.

Cassandra turned her eyes toward her and found Hester smiling pleasantly.

"I ask only because I cannot imagine you have much longer to delay such a decision," she continued. "Though I suppose it must be rather difficult for a woman your age to attract a suitable match at this stage."

The tranquil atmosphere shattered. Even the distant sound of the men firing their guns seemed to fade into the background.

Constance’s hand paused above the plate. Georgiana looked at Hester with a flicker of disapproval, but Hester seemed entirely unaware that she had said anything improper.

Or, more accurately, she knew exactly what she had said and simply did not care.

Cassandra felt the sting of it.

At twenty-seven, she knew perfectly well what society thought of an unmarried woman. Her closeness to the Queen protected her from the worst of it.

Few people were foolish enough to make a spectacle of Cassandra’s age when they knew how highly Her Majesty regarded her. But protection was not immunity, and the occasional barb still slipped through the cracks.

Hester’s, however, was not an accidental remark. It was very much intentional.

Cassandra took another sip of lemonade before setting the glass down. "I was not aware that I had given anyone the impression I was searching for a husband."

Hester’s smile widened delightfully. "I merely wondered." She said, as though she were offering words of wisdom rather than an insult. "You have, after all, reached an age when one’s choices become rather more limited. Though perhaps you need not despair. My uncle, Arthur, has been widowed only recently, and I understand he will soon be looking for a second wife." She gave a tiny, sympathetic shrug. "Perhaps you might make a suitable companion for him. You can’t afford to be picky."

Cassandra allowed the silence to linger for a moment before smiling.

"How kind of you to concern yourself with my prospects. Though I cannot imagine what gave you the impression that I am in search of a husband, least of all one of your uncle’s age." Cassandra lifted her glass. "Still, if Arthur Fenwick is indeed looking for a second wife, I am certain some of your female acquaintances would be delighted to make themselves available to him, especially if they are willing to follow your example."