Cressida's Dilemma Read Free Page A

repute after bidding her his standard, tender farewell for the evening. She forced herself to remain calm, her fingernails biting into her palms as she whispered, “I can’t believe, though, that Annabelle would condone anything that suggested that Justin were being”—she gulped the word—“unfaithful. Annabelle is so—”
    “Kind?” Catherine supplied, her tone sharp at Cressida’s implication that she was not. “Perhaps she was distracted, for she has had much to occupy her with organizing her sister- in-law’s wedding—Madeleine Hardwicke, if you recall…the dark, Castilian-looking creature who looked so down in the mouth when you congratulated her on her impending marriage to Lord Slitherton this evening. You remarked upon her unusual looks when she came out last year.”
    “Yes, a handsome girl. Poor Miss Hardwicke,” Cressida murmured, distracted for the moment. “Lord Slitherton is old enough to be her grandfather.”
    “Well, her father, at any rate. But he’s rich and titled, and that’s all that counts. All men—even those who are handsome or loving at the start—” Catherine added, pointedly, “—stray. Oh my goodness, Cressy, you’ve snapped your fan!”
    It was all Cressida could do not to slap her cousin with the poor, destroyed ivory accessory Justin had given her for her last birthday. Instead, she muttered, ignoring the feigned concern over her fan, “Not Justin.”
    “Oh, he’ll deny it.” Catherine sounded as if she had much experience of such exchanges. “You must make the most of his discomfort, though. I suggest you order three fine, expensive gowns, confront him with everything you’ve heard, then present him with the bill. I promise you, he’ll pay up like a lamb.”
    Cressida said nothing. That was not how she intended approaching matters. Though just exactly what she planned to do, she wasn’t quite sure. Quitting the carriage and putting as much distance as she could between herself and her poisonous cousin was a good start, though.
    Changing the subject was the second best alternative. “I’m sorry for Miss Hardwicke. She and Mr. Pendleton looked so in love, and Justin was saying only the other day that he’d marked Mr. Pendleton out for great things. That is, once the young man’s a little older and less circumspect about putting himself forward. Apparently, he’s very clever.”
    “That might be, but he has no money.” Catherine sniffed as if that sealed the matter. “Lord Slitherton has more than ten thousand a year and, as Miss Hardwicke’s mother is very ill and wants to see her only daughter settled, she’s obviously prepared to overlook Lord Slitherton’s age, just as she’s overlooked Mr. Pendleton’s candidacy on account of his impecuniousness. You forget how lucky you were, Cressy, that you were able to follow your heart, marry money and that you retained your husband’s interest for so long.” Her tone dripped false sympathy. “Just because Justin has taken a mistress doesn’t mean you are less to him than you ever were. He just wants more. Like most men.”
    Cressida glared at her cousin while nevertheless resorting to her handkerchief to dab her eyes. There were still another few minutes to endure in the carriage together, so she might as well be as armed with as much information as Catherine knew or suspected. Surely the more Catherine said, the greater the chance Cressida had of finding a hole in her theory. Justin would never take a mistress. Not if he loved Cressida. “Tell me about this Madame Zirelli. I’ve never heard of her.” She was encouraged by the skepticism with which she managed to lace the command, disappointed when Catherine responded in a matter-of-fact tone as the carriage negotiated a bend in competition with a cooper’s wagon. “Neither had I, until Annabelle told me the curious story of Miss Hardwicke’s uncle’s determination that Madame Zirelli sing at his niece’s wedding.”
    “Miss Hardwicke’s