Fenella J. Miller (9 page)

Sam was went galloping for Dr Fisher. Jonathan prayed the man wasn’t out attending a difficult birth or death and unable to come. He couldn’t gallop his stallion with a double weight, but the horse had a smooth canter and at this pace the miles were soon covered and hardly more than two hours after he’d left his home he returned with Cassie in his arms.

The doctor arrived and he sent him straight up to attend to Miss Forsythe. He was thinking of her by her given name now, Cassie. It was a strange name, Cassandra, but it suited her better than Ann.

 He knew that her abigail, and the chambermaid, had stripped away her soaked garments and replaced them with a thick flannelette nightgown. Next she had been wrapped in red flannel and hot bricks had been placed all-around her. By the time the doctor had arrived her temperature had begun to rise and he no longer feared she would die from the cold.

However, he was deeply concerned by her continuing lack of consciousness. When the doctor emerged from her bedchamber Jonathan was waiting anxiously, his back to the roaring fire, in her sitting room.

‘I have stitched both her wounds, they looked more serious than they were. However, until she recovers consciousness I cannot say if there has been permanent damage done to her brain. The longer she is like this the greater the danger of her not making a full recovery’

‘But she’s in no danger at this moment?’

‘No, Mr Anderson, her condition is stable, but serious.’

‘I cannot understand how she wasn’t drowned, she must have been underwater for several minutes and yet she still lives, I believe it was a miracle.’

‘It could well have been, sir, but I have seen cases like this before. When a person enters the water already unconscious they inhale little water and often survive submersion, where others who fall in fully awake, perish.’ The man smiled reassuringly. ‘Also, the shock of the cold water would have slowed her breathing even more; it was the combination of the two that, in my opinion, saved her life.’

Jonathan didn’t care what the scientific explanation was, he knew there had been divine intervention. He had turned back to God, and his prayers were now being answered.

‘I thank you, sir. Shall you be calling again today?’

‘I think not, my patient is comfortable, but never fear I shall be back first thing tomorrow morning to see how she does.’

Jonathan had to be content with that. He accompanied the doctor downstairs thanking him for his prompt attendance and diagnosis. He glanced out of the window seeing it was now dark, Peter Hodgkin, his estate manager, had waylaid the militia and taken them straight to the ruined coach.

No doubt the man in charge would return wanting an explanation, but he doubted it would be tonight. He hoped the fact that he’d shot one through the heart would not brand him a murderer.

He had explained to his daughter what had happened, told her that her dear Miss Roberts was in fact one Miss Cassandra Forsythe and the real Miss Roberts would be on her way to take up her duties soon. He had expected Amanda to be desolate at the loss of her governess, but for some reason she’d taken the news with equanimity and smiled as if at a secret joke.

‘As long as Miss Forsythe is still going to be living here, I shall not mind having a different governess. I’m sure that the real Miss Roberts must be a kind and understanding teacher, or she would not be the closest friend of our Miss Forsythe.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, my love. Dr Fisher has said you cannot visit at the moment, and neither can I, but her abigail will keep us informed of any changes. I’m sure she’ll make a full recovery and come back to us in very soon.’

His daughter ran forward and gave him an impulsive hug, he stiffened, he did not encourage such physical contact, but found he actually enjoyed the embrace. With gentle hands he enfolded her against him, lifting her from her feet so that her legs dangled free. ‘Life will improve now, my darling girl, we shall all be happy again, I promise you.’

‘I shall always miss my mama, but she would not want us to grieve for her any longer. She would want us both to find a new life and be happy, wouldn’t she, Papa?’

He closed his eyes and felt the familiar pain of shattered hopes and trampled dreams, but somehow he recovered. ‘Of course she would, my dear girl, now run along to your nanny, I’m sure she can find you something with which to occupy your time.’

‘I’m going to the school room, I intend to paint a picture for Miss Forsythe and also make a get well card. Shall I bring it down for you to sign when it’s finished, Papa?’

‘Do that, my dear.’ He watched the pretty fair-haired child skip happily from the drawing-room and for the first time since his wife died he began to feel that he might be getting over that dark period.

 * * * *

Cassie woke the following morning to find herself safely in her bed. Her head was bandaged and hurt if she moved it so much as an inch. She didn’t know what had transpired, only that she must have been in an accident of some sort and Mr Anderson had rescued her. She sent up a heartfelt prayer thanking God for his intervention. She prayed that her dear friend, Ann, would soon be with her, and then she knew she would start to feel better.

She drifted in and out of wakefulness over the next few days, sitting up to swallow a few mouthfuls of broth and lemonade then falling back into semi-consciousness. For some reason she didn’t seem to have the strength to wake up completely, it was if something was holding her back, something so awful she couldn’t bear to face it. She had no recollection of her abduction or near drowning, her mind was mercifully blank for the moment.

A week after her accident she opened her eyes to see Ann sitting by the bed her sweet face smiling down at her. ‘My dear, you have had us very worried, but I see that your eyes are finally clear. Can I assist you to sit, it is high time you ate something more substantial than a few mouthfuls of broth.’

For the first time since her injuries Cassie felt ready to face the world. ‘Ann, I’m so glad to see you. Yes, do please help me up.’ She paused, a look of urgency on her face. ‘I need to use the commode, I do hope it’s not far away or I shall disgrace myself.’

Comfortable, and back in bed, her head mercifully no longer spinning when she moved it and her memory quite lucid she wanted to hear all the news. ‘Tell me, how did you come to write that letter? How did you get here? You must tell me everything, I’m desperate to know.’ She nodded to encourage her and wished that she had not.

‘I remember now that Sir John arranged for me to be murdered, so there’s no need to hedge around the facts.’

‘I shall tell you everything later, my love, but first you must eat. I rang the bell as soon as I saw you stirring and Molly has run down to fetch you a tray.’

Cassie found she was hungry, and could have eaten more than the gently coddled eggs, weak tea and toasted bread that arrived. But Ann had told her it would not be a good idea to overfill her stomach when it had been empty for so long. She settled back on the pillows and waited to receive the two visitors that were insisting they came in to see her now she was awake.

 Mr Anderson arrived, Amanda walking politely behind him. The smile he gave her warmed her heart, and she knew she had not been mistaken. He reciprocated her feelings.

‘How are you, Miss Forsythe, Amanda and I have been beside ourselves with worry. But I can see that we need not have done so, as you’re looking almost restored. With a few days of good food I’m sure you shall be back as you were.’

Amanda sidled close to the bed and shyly put her hand on the coverlet. Cassie opened her arms and the child needed no further bidding, she scrambled up and flung herself against Cassie’s chest. As she hugged and soothed her, telling her she was a silly goose and should not have worried, it would take more than a bump on the head to do her in, she glanced up and saw a strange glitter in Mr Anderson’s eyes. Could it be tears she saw there? Surely not, he was a man, he would not let emotions carry him away.

He had said little of note during the short visit, but she felt the power of his approval, saw something in his face that she believed was love. When he took his daughter away later she was exhausted but happy.

‘I can see by your expression, Ann, that you see how things are with us. I found myself falling

in love with him, and I believe that he returns my affections. We have not spoken of it, not really, but as soon as I’m well I’m sure something will be said.’

‘I know I should not tell you this, my dear, but it’s already been spoken of. Mr Anderson assured me his intentions are absolutely honourable, that the reason he wanted me here so promptly is to protect your reputation. It seems he has already spoken to the vicar, and has sent his estate manager to procure a special licence from London.’

Cassie was stunned. Events are moving far quicker than she thought decent. ‘A special licence? Why should we require that? We’ve only been acquainted a few weeks, now that you’re here there can be no question that I’m unchaperoned, I had hoped we would have a few months to get to know each other better before we actually got married.’

‘It seems, in the circumstances that you are in need of a new guardian. Sir John is still legally the recipient of the interest from your trust fund, and in spite of being obliged to flee the country, he can still live on your money until you are one and twenty. I think that Mr Anderson believes he would make a better administrator than Sir John ever did.’

Cassie closed her eyes to digest this information. She knew that Mr Anderson…. she must start thinking of him as Jonathan she supposed…. was a wealthy man and had no need of her inheritance, and he was quite right, it was immoral for that monster and his wife to benefit a moment longer.

‘I suppose there is sense in what you say. But I must have a new wardrobe before I can marry, indeed before I can leave this room.’ She giggled suddenly; she was being a trifle premature. ‘Listen to me, I’m already having us marching down the aisle and I have not yet received an offer.’

‘The only reason he hasn’t done so, my dear girl, is that you have been unconscious. As soon as you are able to sit on the
chaise-longue
in your sitting room, he will be there to speak to you.’

  * * * *

Two days later she was resting on the day bed in her parlour when Molly came in bringing a small grey-haired woman with her. ‘Miss Forsyth, this is the mantua maker, Madame Ducray, she

has come to take your measurements . Look, she’s brought with her fashion plates from
The
Belle
Assemblee
, so you can choose gowns that are at the height of fashion.’

‘Forgive me for intruding, Miss Forsyth, but Mr Anderson suggested that you might wish for some fresh gowns before you leave your rooms.’

Cassie smiled, how thoughtful of Jonathan, to have had the same idea, of course she didn’t want to appear dressed in identical clothes to the real Miss Roberts. She must now take her proper place in the household and would need suitable garments in which to do so.

‘You are welcome, Madame Ducray, I should dearly love to replenish my wardrobe for I have nothing suitable to wear.’

She spent a happy hour selecting designs for morning dresses, tea dresses, walking dresses riding habits, evening gowns and even a ball gown. There were to be pelisses, spencers and shawls to compliment each outfit. She also chose, gloves, slippers, reticules and fans to complete her extravagances.

As she was examining material samples Madame Ducray sighed loudly. ‘We ‘ave been so very ‘appy that monsieur ‘as found ‘imself another bride. Mr Anderson ‘as been so very in the dumps since the dreadful accident three years ago.’

Cassie had the opportunity she’d longed for, she could finally get some answers to the things that puzzled her. ‘How did Mrs Anderson die, Madame?’

‘She fell from ‘er ‘orse and broke ‘er neck. Poor Mr Anderson was obliged to fetch ‘er back. Monsieur ‘ad been out riding too and found ‘is poor lady dead.’

‘How sad. It’s small wonder that Miss Anderson does not wish to ride any more. Her mother must have been fair, like her daughter, for Mr Anderson is both dark complexioned and haired.’

‘Oh no! Mrs Anderson was as dark ‘as ‘er ‘husband, Miss Forsythe. We ‘ave always thought the little girl must take after ‘er grandmother.’

‘Well, it matters not, for she’s a lovely girl and will grow up to be a beauty.’ Cassie thought she had gossiped enough. ‘Now, Madame Ducray, these are the fabrics that I wish to have.’

Chapter Nine

After the seamstress left Cassie settled back to read a novel feeling tired but content. Amanda was in the kitchen helping Cook make cakes for afternoon tea. Ann came in to visit her.

‘You look tired, my dear, I don’t think I shall stay long with you, you need to rest. Mr Anderson said he was coming to speak with you at four o’clock this afternoon.’ Her friend smiled archly. ‘And I’m sure you know very well the reason for his visit.’

‘I believe so, but I hope that he’s not coming to make me an offer. I learnt something whilst Madame was here that has only added to my unease about the mystery surrounding his first marriage and his wife’s death.’

‘Whatever do you mean? Tell me, what has the wretched woman told you?’

‘Well, it seems that the first Mrs Anderson died in a riding accident, at least that’s what everyone believes. Jonathan was out on estate business when his wife had her accident, he brought her home with her neck broken.’

Ann pursed her lips. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting that he had anything to do with her death? That is preposterous, my dear.’

‘No more preposterous and the fact he shot one of my abductors in cold blood.’ Cassie had learnt this piece of gossip from Molly, who told her it was the talk of the servant’s hall. Everybody else seemed to think it made Mr Anderson a hero of some sort, but coupled with the information she’d just her about the death of his first wife, it made her wonder if there was something he was hiding.

‘I think that you’re recent injuries have made you worry unnecessarily. My advice is to forget all about it; Mr Anderson is an excellent man, and he loves you, there is no doubt about that. His distress whilst you were so ill made that perfectly clear. And Miss Amanda adores you too, she confided in me that she expects you to be her new mama and is delighted at the prospect.’