Cressida's Dilemma Read Free

to mean?”
    Catherine sighed. “I’d really rather not elaborate, Cressy. Clearly, you’ll just get upset and—”
    “You’ve said too much already, Catherine. And I can see you’re dying to tell me.”
    Catherine appeared to consider the situation. Then she shrugged. “Actually, the information came as quite a shock. I was in conversation with Annabelle, who was waxing lyrical over Rossini’s opera The Barber of Seville when her husband, who is not known for his tact after three champagnes, joined us, saying he’d just left Justin, who was marveling over Madame Zirelli’s excellent rendering of Rosina’s part. When Reggie had gone, Annabelle looked shocked, asking if Justin hadn’t been known for his high regard for Madame Zirelli in the days before his marriage.”
    Cressida was beginning to feel marginally better. Catherine was simply making wild suppositions. Relaxing, she managed a smile. “And that is the only basis for these cruel rumors and gossip? The fact that Justin has been praising another woman? For her singing?” Relief surged through her.
    That was, until Catherine’s viper-direct response, “Surely you must know that Madame Zirelli was Justin’s mistress until five minutes before he married you?” Catherine’s shock was apparently unfeigned. For a moment, she simply stared at Cressida, as if she couldn’t believe her cousin could be so ignorant. Then a sly look crossed her face. “Oh, my poor Cressida,” she whispered. “How awful to be the last to know what is common knowledge. And how I wish it had not fallen to me to tell you the sordid details.”
    Cressida put up at hand, as if to ward off the evil she knew was about to pour from Catherine’s insincere lips. She didn’t need to know. Didn’t want to know. “What Justin did before we were married is of no account—”
    “But don’t you see ? Justin all but admitted that once again, he’s been consorting with Madame Zirelli through his remark about having so recently enjoyed her voice.” Catherine cleared her throat as she settled back against the squabs, the self-satisfaction upon her face a look with which Cressida was painfully familiar. Catherine not only liked to deliver her barbs like a skilled marksman, she savored the kill. She clicked her tongue, adding in an undertone, “And let us hope that’s all he was enjoying when he paid a visit to Mrs. Plumb’s notorious salon.”
    “That’s…that’s just cruel,” Cressida managed faintly, her mind consumed with images too dreadful to dwell on for more than a moment. But she couldn’t help herself for all that she’d promised herself only seconds before to turn a blind eye. “Who is this Madame Plumb? Why would Justin visit such an establishment?”
    Catherine fanned herself and adopted an air of nonchalance, as if what she was about to say was of no account. “You really don’t know? Well, I am surprised, for Madame Plumb was notorious in her day and continued to cause scandal when most scarlet women would have been content to fade into obscurity.” She leaned forward, locking her eyes upon Cressida’s. “My poor cousin, it pains me to say it, but Mrs. Plumb was an opera singer and actress before Lord Layton set her up. She and Madame Zirelli are great friends, and after Lord Layton moved on, and with Mrs. Plumb’s looks too faded to snare another of his ilk, she’s now set up a house, where she’s invited Madame Zirelli to live, and which has become famous for its Wednesday salons. People attend in masquerade, supposedly to listen to the music, but really it’s just a meeting place for—” She stopped at Cressida’s gasp, saying instead, in gentler tones, “It seems Justin has been a regular patron of Madame Plumb’s, and in view of his…close relationship…with Madame Zirelli, one can only assume the reason for his visits.”
    “Justin loves music,” Cressida said, dully, trying to equate Justin sneaking off in masquerade to some house of ill