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CHAPTER TWELVE

R olfe felt his throat thicken with distaste at Cordelia’s admission. He swallowed it back.

“Tell me, why did no one attempt to stop Lord Seagrave’s abuse?”

Cordelia could but smile softly at his question.

“Lord Ravenscroft, you have had the good fortune to have been born a man of means. Thus you will have most likely never known what it is to be thought of as property. Women do not share the luxury of that status. From the day she was born, Cassia was seen by her mother as divine retribution to her husband, and to her father as a bad investment to be fobbed off as soon as was possible. But Cassia resisted and for whatever reason, Lord Seagrave did not force her to wed. His daughter’s defiance, however, didn’t sit well with him.

It was too much like her mother, his wife.

Most everyone suspected what Lord Seagrave was doing to Cassia, but he had perfected his dominance over the years with Cassia’s mother and knew to inflict his abuse where it would not be seen.

And Cassia is not her mother. While Lady Seagrave was busy occupying whatever man’s bed she could, Cassia’s upbringing was left to her abigail, Winifred.

And Winifred did her job well. She raised Cassia to adhere to propriety, morality, to be the perfect genteel young lady.

Unlike her mother, who preferred to advertise Lord Seagrave’s abuse of her, Cassia believed that what took place with her father was never to be revealed.

She hid it quite well from the outside world, even from me.

I never would have guessed the truth, until I happened to enter her bedchamber once while she was dressing.

She was horrified that I had seen the bruises and she made me promise never to tell anyone of it.

If she knew I was telling you this now she would most likely never speak to me again. ”

Rolfe frowned. “You have my word I will not betray your confidence.”

Cordelia nodded. “I believe that, my lord. I don’t know why, but I feel I can trust you, and I pride myself on being a good judge of character.

But now perhaps you can understand why Cassia’s shield is her indifference.

It is the only way she has found to survive what she has had to endure.

She locks her feelings away, along with all the other frightening things in her world, in a dark place somewhere deep inside.

I shudder to think of what is truly contained in that place, things even I do not know about.

But because of her manner, people are wont to think her imperious for this .

.. this image she presents to the rest of the world.

No doubt you have heard what she is called here at court. ”

“‘Lady Winter.’”

Cordelia pursed her lips. “Yes, a truly odious name and one not deserved for it all comes about from the manner in which she was raised. It was inevitable that she would one day be a very wealthy heiress, even without Lord Seagrave’s petition.

It was no secret that after having her daughter, Cassia’s mother refused to give her husband an heir, to somehow punish him.

So his wealth, at least part of it, would always one day come down to his daughter.

The daughter he didn’t want. And every fortune-hunting wastrel out there knew well of it.

Do you have any idea what it is like to be thought of not for who you are, but for the amount of dowry or title you can bring? ”

Rolfe frowned, his mind drifting to another woman, a woman whom he’d once thought the sun rose and fell upon, a woman who’d ironically placed that same distinction on him. “I can well imagine.”

Cordelia must have seen the dark expression come over his face for she placed her hand on his. “I am sorry. I had forgotten that you were faced with a similar situation not that long ago.”

“You gather your information quickly, Lady Haslit.”

Cordelia smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not every day a girl comes face-to-face with the infamous Exiled Earl .” She hesitated, adding, “I’m sorry if my bringing up that name offended you.”

“No offense taken. I am well-used to it. But I didn’t come here to discuss my past. I came to learn more about your friend. So that I might help her.”

Cordelia sighed. “After her mother died birthing what everyone knew was an illegitimate child, Lord Seagrave literally put Cassia up on the market to the highest bidder. But he could not force her to wed. The king would not allow it. I think that is why Cassia has found such a common bond with our Queen Catherine, another sacrificial lamb on the marriage altar. Lord Seagrave nearly succeeded in selling Cassia to the Duke of Manton’s son, Malcolm, but she did the only thing she could to avoid the match, something so out of character for Cassia, I know she must have been desperate. ”

Rolfe’s interest was piqued. “Which is?”

“She refused the proposal, publicly, at a very well-attended ball, much to her father and the duke’s utter humiliation.

You see, Lord Seagrave knew his daughter.

He knew Cassia’s regard for propriety. He thought that by making a public announcement of it, Cassia would never dare refuse.

That she would acquiesce as all good daughter’s should do.

Goodness, and poor Malcolm, he had proposed before half of London that night.

Even I was shocked when she refused him.

But you see, Lord Ravenscroft, that was the same night Lord Seagrave was murdered.

So knowing what Cassia’s father most likely did to her once he got her behind the doors of Seagrave House, I could not honestly fault her if she did truly kill him. ”

Rolfe was staring off at the lights of the Banqueting House, trying to take this all in. If what Cordelia said was true, it certainly did lend to explain why Cassia was the way she was. And what purpose would Cordelia have for making this all up?

“What I still don’t understand is if her father was such a bloody bastard, why didn’t Cassia just escape his abuse by marrying? One would think she would have jumped at the first offer that came for her hand just to get away from him.”

Cordelia nodded. “I suppose one could look at it that way, but that was not an option to Cassia. You must understand, she has seen things a woman of her age should never be subjected to and because of it she believes all men to be abusive cads. The examples we have here at Whitehall only serve to add to that opinion.” She glanced at Rolfe. “Excepting you, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Even my marriage to Percy hasn’t changed her opinion.

In Cassia’s mind, had she married, she would just be sentencing herself to a lifetime of abuse by another, far younger man than her father.

And abuse in a much different manner, if you ken my meaning.

A husband claims rights a father typically does not.

So instead, Cassia preferred to wait it out, knowing her father would never live as long as a husband would. ”

Rolfe looked into her eyes. “Do you realize what it is you are saying?”

Cordelia nodded. “Yes. It certainly gives Cassia the motive for killing her father, doesn’t it? Even though we both know she didn’t know about his petition and her inheritance. But Cassia did not kill her father, Lord Ravenscroft. I am certain of it.” She added, “I would stake my life on it.”

Rolfe stood. He bowed and kissed Cordelia’s gloved hand. “I thank you for your candor and honesty, Lady Haslit. Cassia is most fortunate to have a friend in you.”

“And I in her.” Cordelia stood beside him and took his hand, squeezing it.

“Cassia means more to me than any sister ever could. We grew up together and it goes against everything I believe in to reveal her secrets to you as I just have. But my heart tells me that my confidence is not misplaced. I pray you will never make me regret telling you.”

The lights from the numerous and glittering chandeliers set the crowded ballroom ablaze while the colorful silks worn by the ladies swirled against the polished Italianate floor as they danced.

Most of the faces around her were familiar to her, for nearly every person of noble birth in the city was in attendance that evening.

Standing beside her, her father looked foreign and out of place in the gay and lively setting.

He did not typically attend social functions such as this, the soirée at the Duke of Manton’s Thameside mansion.

He usually kept himself away to avoid hearing the comments, both real and imagined, that were still whispered about his wife behind his back.

Scandal wasn’t one to refrain from speaking ill of the dead.

He was bringing her forward now through the crowd, introducing her to their host, the duke, and his son and heir, Malcolm, the Marquess of Newbury. And, suddenly, her father was gone, leaving to go behind the doors of the duke’s study for some sort of meeting, he said.

She’d just finished dancing with someone whose face was oddly a blur when her father came up behind her and held out his hand to lead her out onto the dancing floor.

He was talking to her between the light skipping steps of the dance.

What was he saying? That his meeting with the duke had been successful, the terms had been set, all that remained was for her to consent. Consent to what?

Cassia started to question him, but the music ended abruptly. Suddenly, standing beside her, next to her father, was the duke and his son, Malcolm, the marquess. They were all smiles and looking most proud, and the crowd gathered expectantly around them as the duke prepared to make an announcement.

“I believe my son, Malcolm, would like to make a request of a certain young lady now,” the duke announced.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Malcolm came forward. His features were hazy and when he spoke, his voice sounded as if it was coming from far away.