Fortune's Lady Read Free Page A

another choice doesn’t exist, that of becoming a man’s…less legitimate companion and receiving, in return, sufficient remuneration to allow one to live a comfortable if not sumptuous—”
    â€œA mistress, you mean, Aunt? A courtesan?”
    She laughed lightly. “Some might call it that.”
    Cass shook her head, smiling faintly. She spoke without thinking. “I’ll leave the taking of lovers to you.”
    The vicious slap across her cheek stunned her, but not as much as the look of pure hate that flashed in her aunt’s eyes and was gone almost instantly. Then they were both apologizing profusely and with every evidence of heartfelt sincerity, but in that split second Cass was able to confirm what she’d long suspected—her aunt despised her. A deep weariness settled over her with the knowledge; she could not even bring herself to feel resentment. She had a swift and unwelcome insight that Lady Sinclair’s dislike was rooted in jealousy, and that it had started when men began to pay more attention to her niece than to her. With an odd sort of detachment she contemplated her aunt’s smooth white skin and voluptuous figure, the reddish-blonde hair that was still luxuriant but now enhanced by art. Her beauty was fading as a vague but unmistakable look of willfulness encroached on the once delicate features. Her tragedy, Cass saw clearly, was that her only identity was her beauty—a quality necessarily fated to abandon her.
    The two women were standing, holding each other’s hands.
    â€œI only want what’s best for you, Cassandra, truly I do. What will make you happy.”
    â€œI know, Aunt Beth.” She was too tired to contest this transparent piece of humbuggery.
    â€œIf I didn’t think marrying Edward Frane would make you happy, I’d never urge you to do it. He’ll come again tomorrow, I’ve no doubt, and what you tell him will be your own decision. Will you see him?”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œAnd will you think about what we’ve said tonight?”
    â€œI’m sure I’ll think of little else!”
    â€œGood girl.” She gave her a quick embrace and kissed her forehead.
    On her way upstairs to bed, Cass reflected that Aunt Beth’s tolerance of her presence seemed to rise as the time neared for her to leave. In fact, if one overlooked the little matter of a slap in the face, she’d lavished more physical affection on her niece tonight than she had in years.
    â€œIs my aunt up yet, Clara?”
    â€œYes, miss, up an’ out, makin’ ’er mornin’ calls. An’ Sir Freddy’s still abed, so you can have a nice, quiet sit-down here with yer tea.”
    Cass smiled appreciatively. Clara drove Aunt Beth wild, but she found the little maid quite charming—perhaps for that reason. “I’m expecting a visitor, Clara, probably this morning. Bring him right up and take him into the sitting room.”
    â€œYes, miss. That’ll be that Mr. Frane, I expect?” Her thick brows lifted and her mouth pulled to the side in an expression of disapproval.
    Cassandra raised her own brows back. “I expect it will, not that it’s any business of yours. Now go away so I can read the paper.”
    Clara sniffed and left the room.
    Cass took a sip of tea and tried to concentrate on the Daily Advertizer. She’d slept badly again and her head was throbbing dully. The room was cold, though it was already high summer.
    Still, Cass wouldn’t have traded all the mild June days of Paris for a single damp, foggy English morning. The years in France had always seemed like a banishment, but now they were over and she was home. Her childhood in Surrey, before her mother died, had been the happiest six years of her life. Later, when loneliness was her closest companion and she’d given up trying to understand what she’d done to deserve such an abandonment, it had