The anger simmering inside Constantine boiled into a fury. He should have expected this. His father had voiced his disappointment more than once.
“Do you suppose she’s incapable?” The duke asked, seemingly unaware of Constantine’s ire. “Her mother had six children who survived to adulthood, and her older sister has already birthed several babes. In fact, I think her younger sister, who wed last season, has also delivered a child. That would be most unfortunate if you ended up with the invalid.”
Constantine gritted his teeth. “She is not an invalid. Furthermore, she’s no longer timid. She is eager to act as Cassandra’s sponsor, and she is up to the task.” He would ensure she was. There was no way he would let her fail in his father’s eyes. Which meant he supposed he couldn’t let her fail in her duties either. He would bloody well give her a child.
“Why? She has no social skills. She’ll do nothing to contribute to Cassandra’s husband hunt.”
“In fact, last night at the Kipley rout she was most scintillating. She’s matured, Father, and you must admit that Aunt Christina has demonstrated a lack of ability when it comes to shepherding Cassandra.”
The duke scowled. He had to be aware of his sister’s foibles, and yet he didn’t seem to care while picking everyone else apart for theirs.
“You aren’t at the balls and routs,” Constantine continued. “You don’t see how Christina abandons Cassandra and barely pays her any mind.”
“That’s why she has a companion now.”
“Is her companion to be facilitating dances with prominent gentlemen and encouraging promenades?”
The duke’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked in a breath, and the hand that had remained atop the desk fisted. “I will speak with my sister on this matter. Now explain to me why I am hearing murmurs that you may not be in support of the Importation Act.”
It was as if Constantine was still a lad, defending his every decision, which his father had said was necessary so that he could ensure his heir was developing the appropriate capabilities. As an adult, he’d continued to answer his father’s demands, but in this case, he would almost certainly disappoint the duke who was in favor of the law. The act would impose tariffs on foreign grain in an effort to maintain prices of domestic grain so as not to bankrupt English farmers. Those in opposition, such as Constantine’s friend Brightly, argued the law would increase prices, which would hurt the laboring class.
Constantine was leaning toward voting with Brightly but wasn’t going to tell his father that. “I have been focusing my energy on the apothecaries bill.” His father should have been too, after what had happened to his wife.
“Well, divert your attention to the bloody Importation Act. It will be up for vote soon, and I expect you will support it.”
“Just as I expect you to support Lady Aldington as Cassandra’s sponsor. She will do an excellent job. Imagine what could happen under Christina’s lack of supervision. What if Cassandra was lured into a compromising position?”
The duke’s dark brows pitched into an angry V. “Then that would be your sister’s fault, not Christina’s. Bender!” He bellowed the last.
A moment later, the butler stepped into the study. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Send for Lady Cassandra at once.”
Too late, Constantine realized the trouble he’d caused. Goddammit. He turned to Bender. “Don’t bother.” Directing a glare at his father, Constantine clenched his jaw. “Cassandra hasn’t done anything wrong, nor will she. This conversation is about your sister and her failure as a sponsor. Give Lady Aldington a chance, and if you are unsatisfied with her performance, by all means go back to Aunt Christina.” Oh hell, Constantine had just set his wife up to be sharply scrutinized by the most demanding of men.
After sending a dismissive nod to Bender, the duke sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowing in irritated contemplation. “Why are you pressing this matter so hard? I didn’t think you cared much for your wife, yet here you are acting like her champion.”
Constantine almost asked why he would think he didn’t care. However, the answer seemed obvious. To any outsider—hell, to his wife—it would seem as though that were the case.
Did she care about him? She’d come here and demanded an heir. If she despised him and was still willing to do her duty, for whatever reason, including her own desire to be a mother, he had to give her credit.
He ought to credit her for more than that, and not just because he was fairly sure she didn’t despise him. Which was why he was fighting so hard for her to be Cassandra’s sponsor. They may not be close, but he’d made vows to her and it was time he kept them.
Drawing a breath, he straightened his shoulders, adopting a stance as if he were facing down a pack of wolves. “You have raised me to be the duke when you are gone. It will be my responsibility to ensure the members of this family are taken care of. I take that duty very seriously, and I want what’s best for Cassandra. Don’t you wish to see her wed this Season? Lady Aldington is a better choice of sponsor to meet that end. Furthermore, you selected my wife based on a variety of factors, including her unimpeachability. That trait alone makes her a better sponsor. Whether you think she has the initiative or cleverness to navigate Cassandra’s path doesn’t particularly matter. I know her far better than you, and it’s time you allow me to do what you’ve educated me for.” Constantine nearly laughed. As if he knew her very well at all. Hopefully, that would change.
He truly hoped for that?
The duke’s gaze simmered with a heavy contemplation without any indication as to what he would decide. “That was a pretty speech. You have been an excellent student. I will take your recommendation under advisement.”
Constantine allowed himself to relax the barest amount, the tension in his body lightening but not disappearing. “Thank you.”
“In the meantime, you’ll consider very closely how you plan to vote on the Importation Act.” The duke sat forward and picked up his magnifying glass, returning his attention to the papers on his desk. Constantine was dismissed, and it seemed a deal had been proposed: if he voted for the act, his father would appoint Lady Aldington as Cassandra’s sponsor.
Constantine didn’t want that arrangement. Turning on his heel, he stalked from the study. The comfort and relaxation he’d felt from his racing club meeting had been completely pulverized by his father’s domineering autocracy.
Bender met him in the entry hall with his hat and gloves.
Constantine wondered if he should speak with Cassandra to inform her how the meeting went and that he’d inadvertently given their father the idea that a compromising situation was possible. But no, if he did that, the duke would find out and it wouldn’t help their cause for Lady Aldington to be Cassandra’s new sponsor. He would have to hope that his father would see reason.
Because Constantine sure as hell didn’t want to vote for that act. Especially now that his father had all but demanded he do so. Apparently, Constantine would prefer to be contrary.
Or perhaps he was ready to emerge from the duke’s shadow.
Chapter 10