The Promise

by V J Dunraven

  “You don’t seem convinced, my son,” Jeremy said in all seriousness worthy of a vicar. “Do you need a moment of contemplation?”

  Richard pursed his lips and sliced his forefinger across his neck, narrowing his piercing blue eyes at Jeremy.

  Allayne coughed loudly and tapped a forefinger on his fob watch.

  “I suppose I can exorcise you another time.” Jeremy spit on his index finger and drew a wet cross on Richard’s forehead.

  Richard swore and furiously erased it with his sleeve.

  “You’re definitely possessed, my son.” Jeremy dipped his hand on someone’s leftover tea on the table and whisked the cold liquid on Richard’s face as he muttered a blessing, ignoring Richard’s angry retort which included the word “bloody,” the name “Jack” and the other term for a donkey.

  “Ahem!” Allayne sidled closer and elbowed Jeremy sharply in the ribs.

  “Assaulting the Reverend is a mortal sin, my son.” Jeremy grimaced, massaging his side. “But it can be forgiven with a petition and a generous donation.” He extended his hand palm-up towards Allayne and waggled his eyebrows, as he rubbed his thumb against his fingertips.

  Allayne reached into his pocket and begrudgingly slapped a half crown onto Jeremy’s hand.

  “Bless you, my son.” Jeremy stared at the coin. “But I fear your half-crown will only pardon half your sins—”

  “What if I just slice the Reverend’s bollocks into halves?” Allayne growled. “Pray—will that absolve my transgressions?”

  Jeremy quickly pocketed the coin and focused his attention back to the nuptials. ”Please proceed, my child,” he gestured at Cassandra.

  Cassandra took the brass ring from Allayne and slid it on Richard’s ring finger.

  It fit perfectly.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife!” Jeremy replaced the Viscount’s eyeglasses on the table and deliberately threw the book over his head so it would land on Allayne’s face, then swooped down and kissed Cassandra on the cheek.

  “Richard is supposed to be the one to kiss me!” Cassandra writhed and giggled as Jeremy proceeded to tickle her.

  “Forget this clumsy oaf!” Jeremy grinned crookedly. “He’s not even half as handsome as I am!” He craned his neck and straightened his collar, then gave her a syrupy wink.

  Cassandra stuck her tongue out and made a face at him.

  “Quit dawdling.” Richard glared at Jeremy before he hurled another concerned look at the clock that began to chime the quarter hour. ”We seriously have to go.”

  Cassandra’s mirth faded. “You promise not to forget about me?” She clutched the tail of Richard’s coat, her lids filling with tears.

  Richard smiled and ruffled her hair. “I promise,” he said with a chuckle, pinching her cheeks and giving her face a playful shake. “Be good, all right?”

  Cassandra tried her very best not to cry and nodded.

  Then, Richard was out the door with Jeremy and Allayne, running down the cobblestone path bordered with a profusion of colorful blooms swaying in the gentle breeze, to the waiting ducal carriage.

  Cassandra watched from the large bay window overlooking the driveway as Allayne and Jeremy hugged her Mama and Papa, while the Duke of Grandstone gave his son, Richard, a hug and a pat on the back. They boarded the crested coach and waved merry goodbyes through the passenger windows.

  The driver flicked the reins and the four horses sprang into a canter, parading the conveyance around the circular path towards the direction of the main drive. A moment later, the carriage bowled in full gallop down the long driveway, amidst a cloud of dust and a sea of falling leaves.

  Cassandra stayed where she was, gazing after it until it gradually disappeared into the distance. The house had suddenly become quiet. Only the bleating sheep dotting the pastures and the distant roar of the ocean punctuated by the occasional squawking of seagulls could be heard resonating in a regular rhythm, emphasizing the charm and serenity of rural coastal England.

  In less than an hour, Cassandra’s world had changed. Her joy had left—gone with Richard, Jeremy and Allayne for some unfamiliar place where young men must go, called Oxford.

  As the dust settled on the road and the tranquility of her bucolic surroundings forced the loneliness to creep in, she felt like crying. Her young heart mourned for Richard—her friend and idol, her protector—the boy of her dreams.

  Would he remember his promise? Would he come back to see her again—or was he gone forever?

  Cassandra wiped the tears streaming down her face with the back of her hand. She could only hope that one day, he would come thundering down the road on a white horse—her knight in shining armor, her Prince Charming—to sweep her off her feet and rescue her.

  Chapter 2

  Memories

  Ten Years Later

  May, 1817

  Cassandra walked along the deserted beach with her stallion, Apollo, absorbing the tranquility of her surroundings, and admiring the sunrise that signaled the beginning of yet another glorious day. She pulled on her horse’s reins, and coaxed him to venture with her to the very edge of the sea, where the water tickled his hooves, making him snicker.

  Cassandra patted his glossy flank and moved a little closer to the water. The surf kissed her bare feet with plumes of white foam as it broke upon the shore and the wind tossed her long wavy hair about her face, tangling it beyond redemption.

  She breathed in the salt-tinged air and smiled at the spectrum of colors that blazed across the horizon. Ah, how she loved early mornings like this, when all was quiet save for the birds and the sea. The turmoil of life in the harsh light of day receded into oblivion, forgotten in favor of the beauty of God’s creation. No one ever understood her penchant for such an ungodly hour, except for the one person who used to share it with her.

  She heaved a deep sigh. Is he looking up at the same sunrise? Is he likewise admiring the explosion of crimson, orange and gold, against the backdrop of the indigo skies?

  Apollo nudged her cheek and watched her with large brown eyes, his mane flailing in the wind against his chestnut neck.

  “I know,” she petted his nose, “I shouldn’t be moping, but I do miss him.”

  Her faithful mount bobbed his head, before snorting in a manner that resembled disapproval.

  “You know me too well,” she laughed. “And I know you pretty well also, you colossal glutton. You don’t care at all for my feelings—you just want to return home to your breakfast oats, don’t you?”

  Apollo’s ears perked up at the mention of food and he started tugging on the reins she held, expressing his wish to turn back in the direction of Rose Hill.

  “Oh, all right.” Cassandra shook her head at his antics and mounted the eager stallion. Rider and horse took off in a swift gallop towards home.

  “Good morning, Morty!” she said, as she passed the butler on her way to the breakfast room.

  The butler’s expression did not change on hearing this appellation, though a bushy eyebrow quivered—seemingly undecided whether to raise himself in a dudgeon or not.

  “Good morning, Miss,” he replied, his tone as stiff as the points of his collar. “And the name is Morton, the same one I have been using in my thirty years of service to the Viscount.”

  “I know, Morty,” she chuckled over her shoulder as she opened the door to the breakfast room. Poor Morty. She should quit riling him up every single morning, really.

  ”Mama, Papa, I’m home! Have you finished eating or can I join you?” she said, before coming to an abrupt halt upon realizing they had a visitor. Her parents looked up from their repast with broad smiles, but her attention focused on the third person occupying a chair facing away from her. Cassandra gasped at the sight of the man’s wavy honey-blond hair curling a few inches past his shi
rt collar.

  “Allayne?” she said with a slight tremble in her voice.

  Her brother swiveled in his seat. “Surprise!”

  “Allayne!” Cassandra rushed to him and hugged him tight. “I missed you so much!” She framed his face in her hands.

  He looked taller and broader and his hair was longer. His face was leaner, made even more handsome with deep dimples on his cheeks and stunning, curly-lashed green eyes.

  “Good God, look at you!” Allayne lifted her up and swung her around like he used to do when they were children. “You’re all grown up! I can’t lift you up any higher—your legs are too long!” He pretended to fumble in mid-twirl, evoking the expected squeal.

  “Of course I grew up!” Cassandra chided as he set her down on her feet. “It’s been three years since you last came home. What did you expect?” She smacked his arm for good measure.

  “I’m glad you decided to come back home, son.” Viscount Carlyle leaned back in his chair. “I have no inkling how you can find European society so interesting.”

  “I was not interested in the social life in Europe, father. The history and culture of the places we toured were what fascinated me. I did write that Richard and I—”

  The Viscountess interrupted him with a loud cough, at the same time bestowing him with a speaking look.

  “What is it?” Cassandra raised her brows.

  “Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast, my dear,” her mother said, a large diamond ring winking from her finger as she waved her hand towards a chair. A trim lady of mature years, she still retained the glorious titian tresses and clear complexion that had made her very popular with the gentlemen of the ton a couple of decades earlier. She was impeccably dressed in royal blue taffeta with not a wrinkle in place, a sharp contrast to Cassandra’s salt-water stained shirt and riding breeches.

  As if reading her thoughts, a glint of distaste came into Lady Carlyle’s eyes as she took in Cassandra’s soggy attire and mud-encrusted boots. “After breakfast, I want you to go to your room and get rid of those ghastly breeches and that ridiculous man-shirt you’re wearing. And—oh, Lord! You must have your maid do something with that hair! You will be the social death of me! I don’t know how your father can tolerate seeing you like this.”

  “She looks fine to me.” The Viscount shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. Cassandra grinned at her father as she slid into the chair facing Allayne.

  “She looks like a stable boy!” Her mother straightened, planting her delicate hands on her waist. “And what were you thinking, giving her that monster of a horse?”

  “Well, it didn’t look like much when I got it twelve years ago. How would I know it would grow to mammoth proportions?” Viscount Carlyle winked at Cassandra. “Besides, what my little girl wants, my little girl gets.”

  “She’s eighteen—in case you haven’t noticed,” her mother glowered, her voice rising. “And she’s overdue for her first Season in London!”

  The Viscount folded his hands over his belly and yawned, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

  “Did you see that, Allayne?” The Viscountess pointed at her husband’s bland expression. “This is the reason why your sister refuses to go! She should be dancing at Almack’s, looking for a husband, but instead, she’s galloping all over the countryside on that beast with that profligate friend of yours, Lord Waterford, and getting into all sorts of tomfoolery! She’s turned into a hoyden and it’s all your father’s fault!”

  Allayne cleared his throat. “Mother, I think we all know why she’s not interested in having her Season in London.”

  The Viscountess snorted and glared at him, but became mercifully silent.

  Cassandra puckered her brows. Her mother and brother seemed to be hiding something from her. Well—it is time to see what they were up to! She stood up from her seat and placed her fists on her hips.

  “All right. What are you not telling me?” She swept her gaze at everyone in the room.

  Allayne took a long sip of his coffee and carefully set his cup back on the saucer, before he addressed her in a serious tone. “We’re invited to luncheon tomorrow at Grandstone Park. I—well, we—are back for good, Cassie.”

  “W-we?” Cassandra’s heart began to pound in her chest. “Y-you mean—you—and Richard?”

  ”I’m sure you know that the Duke of Grandstone is ill and is not doing very well. Richard is his only son and heir, and there are matters that must be settled and announced tomo—”

  “Richard is here?” Cassandra whispered, barely paying attention to what her brother was saying.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Richard is here!” Cassandra shrieked and pirouetted around the room, her arms flung wide in happiness. “I can’t believe it. He is back! Oh, I can’t wait until tomorrow!”

  “Cassie—” her brother touched her arm.

  “It might be best if you just stayed at home tomorrow, sweetheart.” Her mother rose from her seat and went to her with a troubled expression on her face.

  “Don’t you worry in the least, dear brother and mother! I wouldn’t show up looking like this and embarrass you!” She giggled and glanced confidingly at her father. “Right, Papa?”

  “Whatever you say, pumpkin,” the Viscount grinned back at her.

  “George Carlyle!” her frail-looking mother yelled in a surprisingly booming voice, looking like she had finally reached the end of her tether. “Did you hear what your father said, Allayne? This is what I have to deal with! Is it any wonder that the girl is spoiled beyond belief?”

  Allayne propped an elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead wearily with his hand. “I think I’m going back to Europe.”

  “I think I’m going back to my room.” Cassandra happily skipped towards the door, humming a merry tune as she went. She had pined for Richard for years—and now, the waiting was finally over!

  They could ride and watch the sunrise together again in the mornings. They could climb their special tree and sit next to each other on their favorite branch, swinging their feet over the pond below. Then, in the evenings, they could sneak out and visit their secret cave, and make up scary stories to spook Allayne and Jeremy.

  Cassandra wondered if Jeremy knew that Allayne and Richard had returned. He’d missed going to Europe with them because he was in mourning. His father had unexpectedly passed away three years ago and he had taken over the title of Marquess of Waterford. Jeremy had been her only partner in mischief for the past few years and sometimes, she wondered if that had left him a tad lonely. But now, his old friends were back and they would all be together again.

  Cassandra ran up the staircase and burst into her bedchamber. She threw the doors of the armoire wide open and shifted through her clothes to select something appropriate for the luncheon. Several of the day dresses her mother had purchased for her had not been worn even once. She hated the frilly lace, and the fancy silks and brocades made her skin crawl.

  She pulled out a pretty green silk day gown with the least embellishments on the sleeves and shoulders. It had cream ribbon ties that would emphasize her waist and scalloped edges at the bottom that would bring the eye to her matching satin slippers. She sighed. For Richard’s sake, she would wear it tomorrow—and try her best not to scratch herself no matter how badly the fabric made her itch.

  Cassandra hugged the dress to herself and stared at her reflection in the mirror. A slender young woman with large, vivid green eyes and tousled red-gold hair looked back at her. Her gaze slid down to her chest and she turned halfway to look at her behind. Oh yes. She grew a round bum and nice titties, all right. Richard need not look elsewhere.

  Her full mouth curved into a smile. She tossed the dress on the bed and raised her left hand to contemplate upon the tarnished brass ring on her pinky finger. It had been ten long years since
she’d last seen Richard, but his image had always been ingrained in her heart—like a permanent impression that deepened with time.

  Memories of Richard watching over her all through her childhood came flooding back. He was always there, protecting her from harm, patiently waiting when she lagged behind, soothing her after a scolding from Allayne or a tear-inducing bout of teasing from Jeremy. He never failed to shower her with gifts of her favorite sweets or surprise her with much-coveted porcelain dolls to cheer her up, whenever the other boys hurt her feelings.

  She could still remember how devastated she was when he left. Despite her tearful protests on that fine autumn day, she never truly believed that she would not see him again after he left for school—but that was exactly what happened. He never came back. Not for the summer, or any of the holidays. He had been gone from her life for ten long years. She’d waited countless Christmases by the window for him, but every year, only the large white package with the big red bow arrived punctiliously at her doorstep, containing a new porcelain doll and her favorite chocolate bonbons.

  Her gaze drifted to the glass display cabinet where she’d kept every single present he’d given her. She cherished every single doll and even saved the fancy bonbon tins.

  Oh, how she missed him! But now, he was home—and her world was whole again.

  Oh, Richard, my dearest, her heart chanted in silent prayer. ”I’m all grown up now,” she whispered and lowered her head, pressing her lips tenderly unto the brass wedding band on her finger.

  Chapter 3

  The Long Awaited Homecoming

  Cassandra sat quietly in the carriage on the way to Grandstone Park, watching Allayne and her mother from beneath her thick lashes as she contemplated their strange behavior since yesterday.

  Allayne had been avoiding her since breakfast, even though he loved spending time with her whenever he came home in earlier days. Her mother, on the other hand, acted even more furtively by contriving all sorts of excuses to discourage her from coming. When Cassandra made it clear that she meant to go no matter what she said, her Mama sulked in silence, darting apprehensive glances at her. Oddly, even her usually jovial father had lost his humor and looked a little worried before they left.