Cass tucked a blond lock behind her ear. She stared out the window. “You could always involve yourself in a scandal. Your mother would be forced to keep you behind closed doors. If it were bad enough, that is.”

Jane stopped pacing. “Scandal?”

Cass turned her chin to her shoulder and laughed. “I was only teasing.”

“No. I liked it, quite a lot actually,” Jane said.

“A scandal,” Lucy echoed, her unusually colored eyes twinkling.

Cass twirled to face them. “Oh, Lucy, no! Don’t get that look. No scandals, please.”

“What sort of scandal would it have to be?” Jane asked, her attention riveted to Lucy.

“No, Janie. No scandal! Certainly not at my wedding. Please,” Cass begged.

“We would never dream of doing anything to disrupt your wedding, Cass, dear,” Lucy said. “But after the wedding…”

“Yes?” Jane prompted, certain she had the same twinkle in her own eye.

Cass rushed to stand between them. “Oh, Jane. Being a wallflower is one thing, but a scandal is quite another. And I—”

Jane patted Cass on the shoulder. She and Lucy needed to plan this alone. Poor, anxious Cass had enough to fret over. “Don’t worry. It won’t be a hideous scandal, just a small, effective one.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“You shall be a beautiful bride,” Garrett told Cassandra that evening over drinks before dinner in the drawing room. He bowed over the hand she presented to him.

When he straightened up again, he scanned the room. Miss Lowndes watched him through narrowed eyes. Miss Lowndes was always watching him through narrowed eyes. If she was paying him any mind at all, that was. He inclined his head toward her and her scowl deepened. Just as expected, he’d annoyed her simply by smiling at her. Ha.

It was too bad, really. Miss Lowndes might be attractive—pretty even—if she wasn’t such a know-it-all with a razor for a tongue. She was of medium height and looked as if she might be very well formed indeed from what he could tell. Which wasn’t much because she’d never deigned to wear a ladylike garment. Instead, she insisted on dressing herself in serious-looking blue wool morning and day dresses that left everything to the imagination. What was it about bluestockings and their complete lack of femininity? Would it kill her to reveal a bit of skin once in a while?

Garrett shook his head. This was not a good thing to be thinking. Miss Lowndes had a round face, bright, intelligent brown eyes that sparkled with mirth—usually brought on by a joke at his expense—and were only to be seen behind a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles she never removed. She also had rich, dark brown hair that was always pulled into a severe knot on the top of her head. It was as if she thought a bit of her intellectual superiority would seep out if a hair was out of place.

He had the sudden urge to pull the pins from her topknot and watch her hair spill over her shoulders. Wouldn’t that make her run for her smelling salts? No. She was more likely to slap him across the face. He rubbed his cheek as if she’d done it.