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“You disapprove, I assume,” Cassian drawled.

“Disapprove? Of course I disapprove! You wrote your name in every slot on her dance card! It will be a scandal.”

“Considering the Belmont girls and their record for failed weddings, I rather think that a dance card is not going to do much to their reputations.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Miss Belmont is lucky to have two duchesses for sisters. Otherwise, she would have been drummed out of Society already.” Richard sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why you are dead set on that girl. She humiliated you, remember?”

Cassian let out an irritated snort. “Only becauseyou, my dear cousin, bungled it. I told you to subtly hint at her secret, not openly blackmail her.”

“Nevertheless,” Richard persisted, “I think it is time to turn your attention elsewhere. Remember, I want you to marry and receive your inheritance just as much as you do. You are running out of time. You can’t simply make another claim on the girl. Already, the whole ballroom is whispering about you. You’ll be featured in the scandal sheets for years to come!”

There was a brief silence after that.

Cassian bit his lip, glancing around the ballroom. Richard was right—therewerecountless eyes on them, whispers being exchanged behind hands and fans. All of London knew by now that Cassian had been jilted by Emily and that her twin sister had tried to take her place. It was a scandal the likes of which had never been seen before.

Miss Daphne Belmont had only been saved by her marriage to the Duke of Thornbridge—which, by all accounts, was remarkably happy—and Miss Emily was saved to an extent by the influence of her well-married sisters. Cassian could rely on his name, his purported inheritance, and the plain fact that he was, after all, a man.

Whispers did not concern him. Gossip and scandal and disapproval did not concern him. Humiliation and mockery bit a little deeper, but hadn’t Cassian experienced plenty of that as a young boy? His father’s taste for humiliating his inferiors was widely known.

It would be the worst humiliation of all if Cassian lost his inheritance because he was unable to meet his father’s conditions. It would be as if the old man had the final laugh, and Matthew’s misery and death had all been for nothing.

As always, Cassian’s chest constricted at the memory of his brother. He swallowed thickly, closing his eyes.

Richard laid a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch.

“You could have a duchess tomorrow, Cass,” he murmured. The use of the old nickname felt like pressing on a fresh bruise. “I could find you?—”

“I don’t just want any duchess,” Cassian interrupted sharply, opening his eyes and composing himself as best as he could. “I want a duchess without expectations. I want a duchess whounderstandsand does not expect our marriage to be a love story. I shan’t give away my heart, Richard, and it is difficult to find a woman who does not expect to be given one. I have settled on Miss Emily Belmont, and you must give me the courtesy of assuming that I know what I am doing.”

Richard eyed him for a long moment, worrying his lower lip. At last, he nodded, letting his hand fall to his side.

“Very well, cousin. If you are set on Miss Emily Belmont, of course I’ll support you. But I don’t much like it, I’ll tell you that. She’s taking her time, considering an offer that any other woman would have accepted immediately.”

Cassian shrugged. “Perhaps that is why I chose her.”

Richard sighed again, rolling his eyes. “I will never understand you. I don’t approve of your trick of filling up her dance card, by the way—not that you care much about what I do and do not approve of.”

Cassian winked. “Sharp as always, my dear cousin. Now, did you only come over here to lecture me about my courtship choices, or can I return to Miss Belmont?”

Richard’s expression tightened, and Cassian’s smile faltered a little.

“Ah,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “Something really is wrong.”

“I’m afraid so,” Richard responded, lowering his voice. “It’s the baroness. She’s… she’s drinking rather a great deal.”

“That’s not unlike her. Margaret always drinks too much.”

Richard shook his head. “She’s acting strangely. I’m concerned about her. She’s asked me repeatedly to bring you to her, but she refuses to come to you herself. Something is bothering her, and I think it best ifyouget to the bottom of it.”

Cassian nodded slowly, thinking. He could not think of any way he might have offended Margaret, but of course, she had always been rather difficult to read. He generally avoided speaking to her in public—the story was an old one, but not forgotten—but it seemed like an exception would have to be made.

“Of course,” he answered, nodding. “Where is she?”

“Over in the corner. She wanted to play cards, but the card rooms aren’t open yet. I understand she made quite a scene with the footmen. She… she said something about Frances.”

Cassian stiffened. “Frances? What’s wrong with Frances? Is she back from finishing school? She’s not ill, is she?”

Fear wound cold fingers around his chest, squeezing so tightly that he could hardly breathe. Young girls were fragile, weren’t they? They caught fevers and head-colds and struggled to recover. They were so young, so easily snuffed out, so…