Fenella J. Miller (10 page)

Cassie’s head ached, she didn’t want to think about it any more. She closed her eyes and laid-back against the cushions. She thought she’d only closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again the room was empty and the stream of sunlight that had been casting a pattern on the polished boards had moved. She must have been asleep for at least an hour.

 She glanced at the mantel clock and saw that it was little after three. Good heavens! She must tidy herself up, Jonathan was coming to speak to her soon. She reached out and rang the little brass bell on the side table and Molly appeared immediately.

‘Molly, can you assist me back to my chamber? I would like to put on something clean and perhaps you can dress my hair again?’

Her abigail hurried over and helped her from the daybed. She leant heavily on her maid’s arm, her legs surprisingly wobbly. It took almost the whole hour for her to wash, change into a fresh gown and have her hair carefully arranged so that it no longer pulled on her sutures. It was ten minutes to four when she eventually returned to her sitting room.

‘Your hair suits you hanging loose, Miss Cassie, its such a rich red-brown, I’m certain there’s not many ladies that have the natural waves you do.’

Cassie paused for a moment to glance at her reflection in one of the pier gilt mirrors that hung on either side of a window. ‘I am far too pale, and even with my hair loose you can still see the bruising on my temple.’ There was no use worrying about her appearance, if Jonathan still wished to marry her having seen her upside down in ditchwater, then she must look positively blooming now.

She was resettled, a patchwork quilt across her knees, when there was a soft tap at the door. Molly smiled knowingly and went across to open it. Good grief, did everyone know what was about to happen? Annoyance gave Cassie the strength to sit up straight, and added much-needed sparkle to her eyes.

As expected her visitor was Jonathan, his hair, which he wore cut short in the modern style, well brushed, his dark blue jacket and silk waistcoat a perfect foil to the snowy cravat tied expertly beneath his chin. She didn’t lower her eyes to see what colour his inexpressibles were, or if his boots were highly polished, that would be indelicate.

He stood at the door, a slight smile playing around his mouth, and half bowed. ‘You are looking a deal better than you did when I visited yesterday, may I come in and speak to you?’

‘Of course you can, I’ve been expecting you.’

Molly vanished with a whisk of navy-blue skirts, leaving them alone. Cassie watched him pick up a heavy wooden chair in one hand and carry it as if it were no more than a basket of fruit. He placed it within arm’s reach of her, then sat down and folding his arms, stared directly at her.

She flushed under his gaze, revealing instantly that she knew the purpose of this afternoon visit. Instantly he grinned. ‘Oh dear, I see you have been forewarned. Shall I get down on one knee, or may I ask you sitting in a chair?’

She relaxed, her lips twitching. ‘Well, sir, you must be on your knee, nothing else will satisfy me.’

With a chuckle he dropped and clasped her hands to his heart. ‘Miss Forsythe, will you make me the happiest of men? Will you do me the inestimable honour of becoming my wife?’

She didn’t hesitate, since she’d met him her reservations about marriage had vanished like the snow. ‘Of course I will, in fact you already knew what my answer would be. Why else would you have come in here looking so smug?’ It was not quite the reply he’d expected but it reduced the tension wonderfully.

 Instead of returning to his chair he leaned over and cupped her face. He gazed at her as if imprinting her image in his memory. Then to her consternation he closed the few inches between them and she received her first adult kiss.

For a moment she froze, the feeling of a man’s lips upon her own was so unexpected, so alien. Then a strange heat began to flood her limbs and her heart raced. Without conscious thought she swayed towards him, her fingers gripping his jacket and his kiss deepened.

A wonderful five minutes later he released her, his eyes dark with something she didn’t understand. Breathless, transported to a place she hadn’t known existed, she smiled at him tremulously, unable to say what was in her heart.

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed each finger tip, the heat of his lips sending shockwaves down her arms and her head spun. She heard him stand, there was a faint rustling of clothes as he returned to his chair. Her heart began to return to its normal pace.

‘Well, my darling, we are now affianced. As no doubt you’ve already been told, I have sent for a special license. Your uncle and your aunt have fled the country rather than face charges of attempted murder, but he’s still your legal guardian until we are married. Only then will he no longer have access to your money.’

She smiled guiltily. ‘As you no doubt suspected, sir, Miss Roberts had already told me that. I must apologise for her indiscretion, but you know how it is between bosom bows.’

‘Actually, my dear, I don’t. No doubt as time goes by I shall adapt to having no secrets in my own house.’

Cassie smiled, this was a perfect opportunity to ask him to explain about his first marriage, but she hesitated. Although she loved him, she didn’t know him well, they had only been acquainted a few weeks, and the relationship between employer and governess was quite different to that of a betrothed couple.

‘I have no objection to being married as soon as my trousseau is completed. I have the matter in hand, and am assured by the seamstress that I shall have it in its entirety within four weeks.’

He frowned. ‘Four weeks! Good God, we have no need with special licence in that case, we could have the bans called at the local church. Surely you don’t need more than one or two gowns in order to get wed?’

She laughed at his expression. ‘Well, I suppose you’re right. As we’re marrying here, I don’t require all my gowns to be completed. But I cannot go about in public, I must have my wardrobe ready before you introduce me as your wife.’

He grinned, a decided gleam in his eye. ‘Excellent. I have no intention of taking you around the countryside for a few weeks.’ His smile was decidedly wolfish. ‘There are more enjoyable pastimes we can explore together. Now all you have to do is get well. The doctor assures me you should be back on your feet by the end of the week. He’s coming tomorrow to remove your stitches.’

He leant across and placing a finger under her chin tipped her head back the better to examine the row of neat black knots across her temple. ‘Is it still very sore, my darling?’

She shook her head, glad she no longer felt the searing pain she had initially. ‘No, the sutures pull a little, but apart from that it looks far worse than it feels.’

He pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘I shall be away for two days, I have to go to Norwich on business, I postponed this visit whilst you were so ill. Now you have Miss Roberts here to take care of you, I can go confident that you’ll come to no harm in my absence.’

‘I shall miss you …. Jonathan. Take care, the roads are still treacherous.’

He smiled and she felt herself melting under his stare. ‘From now on I shall take extra care, my love, I have finally got something to come home to.’

 * * * *

Three days later Cassie was up and about and feeling almost as sprightly as she had before her unpleasant experiences. She decided that if she was to be married the following week it was high time she saw what would be her new accommodation. She asked her friend to accompany her to the master suite.

She tried the handle of the room she assumed would be hers. ‘The door’s locked, shall I send down to the housekeeper for the keys, Ann?

Ann shook her head. ‘No, let’s go through Mr Anderson’s chambers, perhaps the communicating door will have the key in it. ‘

For a moment Cassie hesitated, feeling it would be an intrusion into his privacy to enter his rooms without permission. She was about to voice her disquiet, but her friend vanished, obviously having no such qualms. There was no option but to follow her.

 She stood in the door looking round – the room seemed to be dominated by the huge tester bed, it’s hangings of fine gold brocade that matched the window curtains. She felt herself blushing at the thought of what she would experience in that very bed in less than a week’s time.

Hastily she pushed these thoughts from her head and ran after Ann who had already unlocked the communicating door and vanished for a second time. This door led into what were the first Mrs Anderson’s rooms.  This also had a large bed, but it was smaller than Jonathan’s, and the drapes were of a pretty damask satin. She looked around in astonishment. ‘Goodness! Look at the layer of dust on everything. It looks as though someone has just left, and is about to come back. See the bed has not been pulled up, and there are bottles spilled on the dressing table. I do believe it hasn’t been touched since the day she died.’

Ann was standing at the escritoire reading a sheet of paper left lying carelessly on the desktop. Cassie went to join her, wondering why her friend hadn’t answered. Ann attempted to conceal the paper, but she was too late. Cassie saw it was a letter; as she scanned the words her blood ran cold and all her happiness drained away.

My darling Robert,

It is over. The truth has come out. When he discovered that I was with child he knew at once that it couldn’t be his baby I am carrying. We have not laid together as man and wife for months. He has gone out riding, he left in a terrible rage, I fear for my life when he returns.

 I could not help myself, my love, I blurted out the whole, that my darling Amanda is your daughter, not his. That we have been lovers since I returned from honeymoon. I told him that I had been forced to marry him, that my parents considered a vicar too far beneath me to be my husband, and that they needed a substantial settlement in order to clear my brother’s gambling debts.

 I know we were wrong to play him false, Jonathan is a good man, he truly loved me, and has always done his best.’

Here the page was splattered with what could only be tears, the ink smudged and the words hard to read. Cassie took the paper over to the window in order to see it more clearly. She tilted the paper towards the sunlight and she was able to just make out the rest of the letter.

I cannot stay here any longer, he will reject us both, I am going to pack our things and ordered the carriage, then we shall come to you. I have no idea how we shall manage, the scandal will be impossible, but I can no longer stay here. I cannot continue to live with a man I do not love. He will not accept the child I’m carrying, indeed I believe he will reject Amanda too. My love, we reap what we sow , and I fear that this will end badly.’

The remainder of the letter was so blurred she could not read on.

She sank on to the window seat, clutching the paper to her chest, ashen faced. ‘Oh, you know what this means? Amanda is not his child.’ Cassie swallowed the bile that rose in to her throat as something far worse occurred to her. ‘This letter was never sent, it has lain hidden in here for the past three years. She says she was going to pack her bags, run away to join whoever this Robert is, so how did she end up with a broken neck from falling off her horse?’

Ann was looking as shocked as she was. ‘I have no idea, but there must be a reasonable explanation, it cannot be what you’re thinking, what we’re both thinking.’

‘I cannot marry him, not now, not until he has explained the whole to me. I shall have to ask him what happened.’

‘Cassie, you must not do that, it will be tantamount to accusing your future husband of murder. He would never forgive you, guilty or not, you will have to hold your tongue.’

Cassie did make a decision, and not the one Ann expected. ‘I’m going to take this letter with me, let’s leave these rooms, I don’t wish anyone else to know we’ve been in here. He must have locked the door from the inside and told the staff not to enter.’

With shaking fingers she folded the letter and pushed it inside her long sleeve. There was a slight bulge, but she doubted anyone would suspect what she had hidden. They hurried from the bedchamber and closed the door, locking it carefully. Cassie fled back to her own rooms, her heart breaking, but determined to follow the course she had decided on.

‘I must return to the schoolroom, my dear, will you be all right on your own?’

‘Of course I shall. Amanda must not suspect anything, whatever happens we must make sure she doesn’t suffer any more and she has too.’

 Her brow furrowed and she sunk on to the
chaise-longue
. She dropped her head into her hands trying to clear her mind, trying to understand what she had learnt.

She knew now that Amanda was not Jonathan’s true daughter, which explained why he had been spending so much time away from her, why he appeared to avoid physical contact with the child. It also explained his serious demeanour, was the reason why he rarely laughed and had a hidden sadness in his eyes.

To have been so cruelly used, it didn’t bear thinking about. He had married his wife because he had loved her only to discover she not only loved another, but had produced her lover’s child and foisted it off as his. At the time of her death, his wife was carrying a second bastard – and the father was a vicar! It was small wonder that he had turned against God, refused to attend church. How could a man of the cloth have behaved so reprehensibly?

She sat back, knowing what she had to do. When Jonathan returned she would give him the letter and let him explain what had happened. It was possible that he had, in his justifiable rage, killed his wife, and then disguised it as a riding accident. She knew she couldn’t burn the letter, pretend she’s never read it even if by so doing everyone could be happy – she could marry the man she loved – he would find happiness and Amanda would have two loving parents again.

Whatever the outcome, Cassie had to be certain Jonathan did not have more blood on his hands than the death of her abductor.