Page 8 of An Earl Like You (Games Earls Play #6)

Chapter

Four

L ady Harriet .

Hattie stared at him, her heart giving a sickening lurch in her chest, unable to say a single word. In all the time she’d known Cass, he’d never once called her Lady Harriet. To him, she’d always been Hattie.

But she didn’t know this man, with his cold dark eyes and grim, unsmiling mouth.

Oh, why had she come here? It had been a mistake, a terrible mistake?—

“Windham! Whatever do you mean by keeping these delightful young ladies all to yourself?” The tall, dark-haired man who’d been standing with Cass earlier approached the carriage and offered them a polite bow. “How rude you are! Will you not introduce me?”

For one strained instant, it appeared as if Cass would not introduce him. Was he ashamed of them? They weren’t as frighteningly elegant as the ladies in the adjacent carriage.

The Cass she remembered would never have been so openly disdainful of a lady just because she wasn’t dressed in the height of fashion, but the man who stood before her now wasn’t the Cass she remembered.

This man looked as if he’d stumbled out of Ackermann’s Repository in his handsome bottle-green superfine cutaway coat, his tight, dark gray pantaloons tucked into a pair of glossy black Hessians, as the latest fashion dictated.

He was tall, his shoulders broad, and the thick waves backlit by the sun were nothing like the tousled, mahogany locks she remembered. His hair was shiny with pomade, the sweet boyish curls cut into a ruthlessly fashionable coup au vent .

No, this wasn’t Cass. This was the Earl of Windham, and she hadn’t the first idea what to say to such an exotic, elegant creature. So, she said nothing, but sat there as silent as a cipher, with her mouth hanging open like a perfect fool.

Thank goodness for Lady Fosberry, who was as adept at smoothing over an awkward situation as any duchess. “Lord Hayward, how do you do? It’s been an age, has it not?”

“Since the end of last season, I believe. It’s always a great pleasure to see you, my lady. Since Windham’s manners seemed to have deserted him, perhaps you’d be good enough to introduce me to your companions.”

“Of course, my lord. These young ladies are Lord Melrose’s sisters. Lady Margaret, Lady Harriet, and Lady Sarah Parrish, may I present the Earl of Hayward?”

“Melrose’s sisters? But how wonderful! Your brother was a faithful friend to my late elder brother James. They attended Oxford together. I accompanied him to a house party at your lovely estate in Kent one summer, although that was years ago now.”

“I recall the occasion perfectly.” Margaret’s cheeks flushed when every head turned toward her in surprise. “I, ah, I mean I vaguely recall meeting one of my brother’s companions from Oxford. It was seven years ago, I think.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lord Hayward offered Margaret a dazzling smile, his handsome dark eyes bright with pleasure. “Now I think of it, I believe we were introduced then, were we not, Lady Margaret?”

“We were, yes, though I’m surprised you remember it, my lord, as I was only fifteen at the time.”

“Of course, I do. I remember it with perfect clarity.” Lord Hayward bowed over Margaret’s hand, his lips hovering chastely over her gloved fingers. “I never forget a face, Lady Margaret.”

Margaret’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she was looking everywhere but directly at Lord Hayward, which was…a trifle disconcerting, as Margaret wasn’t the sort of lady prone to bashful blushes.

“Have you all come to London for the season?” Lord Hayward turned his winning smile on Lady Fosberry. “You are to be commended, my lady, for bringing such charming young ladies to Town.”

“They’re not here for the season,” Cass interrupted in a harsh tone.

Beside her, Sarah let out a soft gasp. It was unforgivably rude for him to answer for them, and Margaret’s face darkened to an ominous red, but before either of them could speak Hattie gave a quick shake of her head.

She had no idea what was happening here, but whatever it was it was dreadful, and an argument would only make it worse. She would not engage in a scene in the middle of Berkeley Square with half the ton looking on.

“Not here for the season?” Lord Hayward frowned. “How disappointing. But we’ll see you at Lady Dumfries’s ball at the end of next week, surely? I know what great friends you and Lady Dumfries are, Lady Fosberry.”

Lady Fosberry inclined her head. “We’ll consider attending, my lord.”

“Wonderful. Now then, Windham, the ladies in our party are awaiting their ices, such as they are.” Lord Hayward grimaced at the puddles of melted ice in their pewter cups. “I bid you a good day, ladies.”

Cass gave them a cool nod, then turned to follow Lord Hayward back to the trio of young ladies waiting in a nearby carriage, all of whom were now staring at them and whispering among themselves.

Hattie watched him go, hot tears pressing against her eyelids.

She wouldn’t cry. Dash it, no matter what else happened, she would not cry.

“Are we really going to Lady Dumpling’s ball?” Sarah clasped her hands and turned her big blue eyes on Lady Fosberry.

“Lady Dumfries, dear, not Dumpling. As to whether we’re going or not, I think you’d better address that question to your elder sisters.”

“May we, Margaret? Please? Margaret!”

Margaret was miles away, her gaze fixed on Lord Hayward’s retreating form, and she jumped at Sarah’s exclamation. “For pity’s sake, Sarah, what are you shouting about?”

“I asked if we might attend Lady Dumfries’s ball. Please? It sounds like ever so much fun, and I’ve never been to a ball before.”

Margaret hesitated. Sarah had never been to a ball or anywhere else, as her fragile health had kept her well out of society until recently. There was nothing that pained Margaret more than disappointing Sarah, but she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so, dearest. Our brother wouldn’t like it.”

Johnathan. Dear God, she’d been so taken up with Cass she’d forgotten all about Johnathan! If he ever found out they’d come here without his approval—without his knowledge, even—he’d be furious with all of them.

Worse, he’d be disappointed in them.

“You let me worry about Johnathan and Emmeline, hmmm?” Lady Fosberry patted Margaret’s hand. “If you’d like to attend, my dears, I assure you I can see you safely through a ballroom.”

“But what if Johnathan finds out?” Margaret wrung her hands. “He’ll be so angry with us, and it will be my fault, as I’m the eldest.”

“Now, don’t fret, dear.” Lady Fosberry waved this away. “If your brother does find out, then we will simply remind him that if it wasn’t for the London season, he never would have found Emmeline.”

“Yes, indeed! How clever you are, my lady!” Sarah squealed, clapping her hands together. “If only I’d brought my blue silk gown! It would be just the thing for a ball.”

“Not to worry, my dear. We’ve got gowns in every shade of blue you can imagine here in London.

But girls, that was an excessively strange encounter, was it not?

” Lady Fosberry glanced back at Cass and Lord Hayward as the carriage slid into the tangle of conveyances then turned the corner at Curzon Street, and they were out of sight.

“Even now, I’m still not certain what happened. ”

“It was decidedly strange, yes. I wouldn’t have known Cass.” Margaret cast a sidelong glance at Hattie. “He’s nothing at all like I remember him.”

“It’s been years, Margaret.” Hattie tried to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. “He’s the Earl of Windham now. It’s only natural that he’s changed.”

“The Earl of Windham, indeed, and terribly grand, isn’t he?”

“Terribly rude, as well.” Sarah sniffed. “He is changed, and not for the better. I don’t care if he is a lord now. The way he stared at us! And he was dreadful to Hattie.”

Hattie opened her mouth to protest, to find some excuse for Cass, but closed it again without a word. What was there to say? He hadn’t merely been rude, he’d been…

Cold.

A shiver wracked her, a spray of goosebumps blooming on her neck despite the warmth of the late afternoon sun. How could the boy she’d loved so well speak to her with such frozen disdain?

“I can’t excuse his behavior, but I confess I feel rather sorry for Lord Windham. It couldn’t have been easy for him, having to contend with such a father. Hattie, my dear, take this.” Lady Fosberry reached for a carriage rug. “You look chilled.”

She was chilled, down to her marrow.

“Of course, we’ve heard the rumors about the previous Earl of Windham, just as everyone else in England has.

” Margaret tucked the rug around Hattie’s knees.

“But all we know about him is that Cass appeared in Kent without explanation one summer, and then he was dragged away again three months later. We never knew why.”

“Cassian’s elder brother died, that’s why. Cassian was of no consequence to his father before that, but overnight he became the heir to the title and a substantial fortune.”

“His brother?” Hattie turned from the window to stare at Lady Fosberry. “I never heard anything about Cass having a brother.”

Why had Cass never confided in her? Never, in all the years they’d been friends, had he breathed a single word of this. Perhaps they hadn’t been as close as she’d imagined.

“A half-brother, yes. He was the son of Cassian’s father and Lady Diana Ottley, Viscount Ottley’s daughter.

She died soon after the boy was born, and Cass’s father spent the next five years dallying with one lady after another until at last he got a young housemaid in his employ with child.

To the ton ’s shock, he married the girl. ”

Sarah gasped. “Cass’s mother was his father’s housemaid?”

“Yes, and you can be certain the ton won’t ever let him forget it.” Lady Fosberry sighed. “It’s a rather convoluted story, I’m afraid, and best left for another time.”