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Neither did she wish to marry. At least not yet.
Fiona had thought of little beyond those things since her frustrating visit to the museum the day before with her guardian. Not all of it had been awful. The hours in the map room had been absolutely sublime. That part truly had been her favorite day ever.
Until Overton had ruined it by being a dictatorial wretch.
Perhaps he hadn’t been that bad, but he didn’t understand her desire to simply enjoy her newfound freedom. It was as if she were a butterfly finally free of her chrysalis, and he meant to clip her wings.
Fiona frowned at his back as they walked into Lord and Lady Billingsworth’s house on Park Street for tonight’s musicale. Prudence gently touched her arm, and Fiona brought her features into a more serene expression. Or at least one that didn’t demonstrate her displeasure with her guardian.
Poor Prudence had listened to her lament. She understood Fiona’s need to find her place before she committed to marriage, even while she explained Fiona’s duty to wed.
Once they were inside and had given over their outerwear, they were guided up the stairs to the drawing room. At the top of the stairs was a long gallery filled with people. Fiona immediately picked out Cassandra.
“My lord, if you don’t mind, I’m going to speak with Lady Cassandra,” she said, provoking Overton to turn.
His gaze surveyed the gallery until he found Cassandra. “I’ll accompany you as I’ve a mind to speak with Aldington.”
Fiona suppressed her disappointment. She’d hoped they could go their separate ways once they got there.
“Oh, Fiona!” Cassandra greeted her with a wide smile, and they clasped hands. “I’m so pleased to see you. What a fetching gown.” Her gaze swept over Fiona’s pale yellow dress.
“Thank you.” She looked a bit enviously at Cassandra’s vivid blue gown. None of her dresses were that dark in color. Lady Pickering had said she must wear light colors. She had one purple gown that was her very favorite. It wasn’t dark, but the color was lush and vibrant. She was saving it for a special occasion, not that she knew what that was yet—perhaps her first ball at the Phoenix Club, for she was intent on going to one. Which meant she had to find an alternate sponsor for it.
Cassandra linked her arm through Fiona’s. “Come, let us meander before the music begins.” She smiled toward Prudence. “Good evening, Miss Lancaster. I’m so pleased to see you again too.”
Prudence dipped a brief curtsey. “The feeling is mutual, Lady Cassandra.”
“Don’t be late for the performance,” Overton said from beside Aldington.
“We won’t,” Cassandra said jauntily, preventing Fiona from responding in irritation.
As they walked away, Fiona leaned close and whispered, “Thank you. I fear I would have said something obnoxious.”
“I saw the glint of annoyance in your eyes,” Cassandra said. “What has Overton done to earn your ire?”
“Only try to force me into courtship.” Fiona was perhaps exaggerating with her verb choice, but she didn’t correct herself.
“It’s to be expected, unfortunately. I shall hope for your sake that he will continue to refrain from presenting you a list like my father has to me.”
Fiona made a noise low in her throat that would have horrified Lady Pickering. It was probably good that she was unable to attend this evening. “I fear that won’t be far off. I believe I’ve persuaded him to give me at least a modicum of respite. This is all such a change for me after coming from the country without any expectations.”
“I can only imagine. I’ve been raised to do just this.” Cassandra raised her voice slightly in mock enthusiasm. “Have a sparkling Season where I dazzle a myriad of suitors before settling into marriage and motherhood.” She rolled her eyes.
“I suppose it’s worth it if you fall in love,” Fiona said. She couldn’t imagine marrying without doing so, but it seemed it wasn’t necessary. In watching Overton, she didn’t have the sense he was looking to find a love match. He was simply in a hurry to findanymatch. Or so it seemed. She really couldn’t claim to know him that well. Why would he tell her his plans or confide his intentions?
In fact, with whom would he discuss any of it? His friends, she supposed. Just as she had Cassandra.
“Love is a fairy tale,” Cassandra said.
“You don’t think it’s real?”
“I do, but I think it’s special and extraordinary. And I don’t think everyone is fortunate enough to experience it. My parents shared a mutual affection, but I would not describe it as love, and my brother didn’t marry for the emotion, nor has he found it since.” She glanced back toward where they’d left Overton and her brother.
This was only the second time Fiona had met Aldington, but she noted that his wife hadn’t been present on either occasion. “Is Lady Aldington here?” Perhaps she was somewhere else in the house.
Cassandra shook her head. “She’s still at Hampton Lodge where they spent the holidays. I expect she’ll arrive in the next few weeks. Or perhaps she won’t come at all. Con hasn’t said.”
“Why do you call him Con instead of Aldington? Do families address their siblings differently?”