The Pursuit Of Marriage

Prologue

The power of women to influence king, country and all of mankind cannot be underestimated. It is a power at its greatest when it is exerted subtly, in a clandestine manner and achieves its purpose before its existence is so much as suspected.

T. Higgins

Spring 1821

“I must say, I am deeply disappointed.” The Duchess of Roxborough gazed over the ladies assembled in the parlor at Effington House and heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “We are failing in our responsibilities, ladies, and we simply must do better. In the year or so since the formation of The Ladies Society for the Betterment of the Future of Britain, our various members have assisted, as it were, in the forming of a mere three unions.”

Marian, Viscountess Berkley, glanced at her very closest friend, Helena, the Countess of Pennington— or rather, now, thanks to her son’s marriage, the dowager countess.

“That of Lord Pennington…”

Helena smiled in a most gracious manner that didn’t appear the least bit smug unless, of course, someone knew her as well as Marian did. Marian was well aware of how terribly satisfied Helena was by the results of her machinations, which last year had finally brought her son to the altar. Oh certainly, there had been deceit involved on Helena’s part, a monumental amount of deceit by some standards, but she firmly believed—and as her dearest friend it was Marian’s duty to share that belief—that she had simply steered events in the right direction. Helena claimed what happened after that could well be attributed to fate.

“…that of Miss Heaton…”

Lady Heaton, mother of the aforementioned Miss Heaton, beamed with the pride of accomplishment.

“Thanks to an overly impressive dowry and the threat of a fair amount of scandal,” Helena said under her breath to Marian.

“I think scandal is highly underrated as a tool to encourage marriage,” Marian whispered. “We should employ it more often.”

“…and Miss Putnam.”

Lady Putnam smiled weakly. If anyone was well aware of the role of scandal as an inducement to wedded bliss, it was Lady Putnam, whose daughter Althea had been involved in a rather flagrant misadventure with a young lord, ending in a quick trek to Gretna Green and a hasty wedding.

“I’m not sure if Lady Putnam deserves the credit for that marriage,” Marian murmured, “or the blame.”

Helena bit back a smile, and Marian grinned to herself. Not that Marian would hesitate for a moment to use the threat of scandal to force her son into marriage with the right young woman. The problem was finding the right young woman.

“Perhaps, ladies, we have forgotten the very reasons for these gatherings.” The duchess’s brows drew together in a most reproachful manner. “We are here for the express purpose of assisting our marriageable children in the finding of suitable matches, without their knowledge, of course. As we are all well aware, young people today do not appear to be pursuing marriage as actively as they should. Indeed”—the duchess’s gaze settled on her sister-in-law Georgina Effington, Lady William—“some seem to be pursuing anything but marriage.”

Lady William stood and smiled uneasily at the assembly. “As some of you probably know, my daughter Cassandra has discovered a talent for the refurbishment and redecoration of houses.”

“She’s really quite wonderful,” a lady behind Marian whispered.

“And while I am confident she wishes to marry, I fear this pastime of hers—”

“It’s scarcely a pastime given what she charges,” another woman murmured. “Still, well worth it to say your designer was an Effington.”

“—will keep her too occupied to see potential matches that may present themselves. In short, while I have always encouraged a certain amount of independence in my daughters, I fear for her future. Indeed, I think her actions might well be in opposition to the stars themselves. Therefore,” Lady William heaved a heartfelt sigh, “I am more than willing to entertain any proposals or suggestions.”

“Excellent, Georgina.” Her Grace beamed at her sister-in-law. “Cassandra well deserves a good match, and I daresay there are any number of possibilities represented in this very room.”

A wave of enthusiastic murmurs swept around the room.

“Marian.” Helena considered her friend thoughtfully. “In spite of this venture of hers, Cassandra Effington would be an outstanding match for any young man.”

“Indeed she would,” Marian murmured. “And, given her heritage, an excellent viscountess as well.”

Certainly, nothing Marian and her friends could possibly do would ensure such a match. There were no guarantees in endeavors of the heart. Given that, was there any real harm in nudging things in the right direction in the hopes that fate would then take a hand?

“Lady William.” Resolve brought Marian to her feet. “I have a house sorely in need of refurbishing. And better yet,” she flashed the assembly her brightest smile, “I have a son.”

One

An independent, stubborn woman is surely God’s revenge upon an unsuspecting mankind.

L. Effington

Spring 1821

“D o you see them yet?” Miss Cassandra Effington shielded her eyes against the late morning sun and gazed into the distance.

“No.” Anthony, Viscount St. Stephens, shook his head. “Any minute now, I should think. As I understand it, the course is not overly long.”

“And did you wager a great deal on the outcome?” his wife, the former Miss Philadelphia Effington—

Delia to her closest friends—said coolly.

“Not a great deal.” He chuckled and slanted her an amused glance. “Did you?”

“Nothing of significance.” Delia grinned. “And only with Cassie, so it scarcely counts.”

“It most certainly does count,” Cassie said firmly. “I fully expect you to pay promptly when you lose.”

St. Stephens laughed. “Dare I ask which of you wagered on your brother and which chose Lord Berkley?”

“I, for one, would never wager against a member of the family.” Delia’s voice was firm. “Beyond that, Christian is an excellent rider with a fine eye for horseflesh.”

“Christian is overly arrogant, although I daresay no more so than Leo or Drew.” Cassie rolled her gaze toward the heavens. “It’s a common trait among Effington males and among our brothers in particular.”

St. Stephens raised a brow. “So you wagered on Berkley then?”

“Most certainly.” Cassie nodded. “It will do Christian a world of good to lose at something, anything. Besides, from what I have heard of this Lord Berkley, he is rash and reckless and something of a rake. While those are not qualities I particularly look for, it seems to me, if one is wagering on a contest of this nature, those unsavory attributes would be most beneficial.”

“Christian is rash and reckless and something of a rake,” Delia murmured.

“Yes, but I am well acquainted with Christian and cannot bear the thought of how much more swaggering his step will be should he win. As I have never met Lord Berkley, I don’t give a fig as to the effect of victory on his character.”

St. Stephens laughed. “Well said.”

Cassie grinned.

Delia’s brows drew together. “If you feel that way, Tony, why did you wager on Christian?”

“You’re making assumptions now, my love.” St. Stephens’s grin widened.

“I see. You too are lacking in family loyalty. Very well then.” Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you would care to place another wager on the outcome?”

“I should indeed.” A wicked light flashed in his eye. “If I can set the stakes.”

Delia gazed up at her husband with a wicked smile of her own and Cassie sighed to herself, discreetly edging away from the couple. Not that they would notice. At these moments Delia and St. Stephens stepped firmly into a world of their own.

It was at once charming and most annoying. Cassie was delighted that her sister had found love, but did she have to be so very much in love? Delia and St. Stephens had been married nearly a year, after all. Indeed, they were here, at least in part, to serve as Cassie’s chaperone, and those longing, yearning, wicked looks the couple continuously traded were not at all proper, although Cassie admitted her own reaction could well be simple jealousy. After all, of the two sisters, Delia had never especially sought marriage, yet here she was: married, in love, and blissfully happy. While her twin was four-and-twenty, edging perilously closer to a firm position on the shelf with not a real possibility for a match in sight.

Cassie wandered a few steps farther away, ignoring her sister’s peal of laughter and ignoring as well the intriguing thought of precisely what stakes St. Stephens had proposed. As much as Cassie hated to admit it, she was indeed jealous. Oh, she would never wish any of Delia’s happiness taken away. Cassie simply wanted it too. Not that there was any chance of that at the moment. Perhaps it was time to lower her standards.

Cassie idly scanned the crowd gathered on a rise overlooking the road. The assembly chatted with anticipation and excitement and strained for the first glimpse of the riders. It was an interesting gathering of the ton’s younger members—in truth, a set considered rather fast. Still, the majority of those present were married couples ostensibly acting as chaperone for those as yet unwed among them. It was all very proper even if there wasn’t an elderly, disapproving matron in sight, and therefore a slight, distinct undercurrent of forbidden adventure lingered about it all.

The race and accompanying wager between Christian and Lord Berkley had become quite the topic of interest in the past two weeks. So much so that Lord Warren had arranged both the contest and a festive outing on his estate on the outskirts of London. His lordship had also made a specific point of inviting Cassie to the event, not that she’d had the least intention of missing it. Her gaze drifted to Lord Warren, chatting with a small group and obviously charming every lady present. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of those ladies had also received personal invitations. The man was unquestionably attractive, with an excellent title and a tidy fortune. He was witty and dashing with a reputation for excess in all matters, including women. Not at all to Cassie’s taste. Lord Warren might well be interested in her, but she hadn’t the least bit of interest in him. Rather a shame, really. He was an excellent catch.

“Perhaps it’s time you lowered your standards,” the wry voice of her oldest brother, Leo, sounded behind her.

“I was just thinking the same thing, although I daresay you’re not the one who should be giving advice in matters of this nature,” Cassie said mildly and turned toward her brother. “I don’t see you racing headlong toward the altar.”

Leopold Effington grinned down at her with the engaging smile that had turned any number of young ladies’ heads, none of whom had ever similarly engaged him. “My standards are apparently as high as yours.”

“It’s rather a pity, isn’t it? You should think at this point at least one of us would be wed.” Cassie glanced at her sister and St. Stephens. “At least Delia has found happiness.”

“I daresay Delia has earned it.” Leo offered his arm and Cassie took it. Sister and brother strolled aimlessly for a few moments. “Perhaps we have not suffered enough to earn happiness?”

Cassie glanced up at him, relieved to note the teasing twinkle in his eye. “I should be happy to make you suffer with a well-placed kick to your backside if that’s what you wish.”

Leo laughed. “I shall pass if you don’t mind. Besides, I am barely nine-and-twenty and have plenty of time left to enjoy myself before the need truly arises to settle myself with a wife.” He sobered. “You, however—”

“Don’t say it, Leo,” Cassie said firmly. “Or I shall be forced to deliver that kick and a great deal more.”

Leo ignored her. “I’m serious, Cass, it’s past time you were wed.”

“You’re not married. Neither is Drew or Christian.”

“That’s another matter entirely. We’re men and we—”

“Not one more word. I’ve heard it all before and you well know I feel it’s entirely unfair. No one thinks it’s the least bit odd that you aren’t wed, and you are far older than I.”

“Indeed, I am ancient,” Leo said with a grin.

“Indeed you are.” Cassie heaved a resigned sigh. “It’s not as though I have no desire to marry, you know. I have always wanted to make a good match.”

“You have had ample opportunity.”

“Ample opportunity? Apparently you have paid scant attention to the facts of my life, brother dear.” She blew a disdainful breath. “For whatever reason, Delia has always attracted men with an eye toward marriage even if they tended to be exceedingly dull, with the exception of St. Stephens, of course. Whereas I have always caught the attention of men of questionable reputations, whose interest in me had nothing to do with marriage. Rakes and the like. Men suspiciously like my brothers.”

“I say, Cass, that’s not fair.” Leo frowned ruefully. “Accurate, perhaps, but not especially fair.”

“Nothing is especially fair when it comes to men and women and this whole pursuit of marriage.” Cassie glanced at her brother curiously. “Why are you exhibiting this sudden interest in my marital state?”

“It’s not sudden. Your future has always been important to me,” Leo said in a lofty manner. “And now that Delia is wed and happy—”

“You thought you’d turn your complete attention to me?” Cassie shook her head. “I don’t believe you for a moment. Besides, you and Drew and Christian have always kept a rather annoying watch on me in the mistaken opinion that I was about to plunge into scandal.”