“No you weren’t.”
“You are a witch,” he said, kissing her neck. “You can see into my very soul.”
“Only because it mirrors mine.” She lay her head on his shoulder. Everything had fallen into place.
Well almost everything. What she still did not understand was why one of the criminals had warned her off there being danger, and about Stephens being hurt. She supposed one of the three had a conscience, though none of them had displayed that when they were arrested. Perhaps, she thought, as Blake kissed her again, she did not have to know the answer to everything in order to be happy.
Blake and Caroline walked down the path of the abbey, hand in hand, followed by Aunt Millie and Uncle Jim, and the Count and Mrs Oakengate. The mist had cleared, leaving a cold, but sunny morning.
“I knew I’d be without a companion,” Mrs Oakengate was saying. “It is always such a bother breaking in a new one.”
“Not necessarily,” said the Count. “I have a whole month in which to do nothing but relax and wait for our prince to enjoy his honeymoon. Would you accept me as your companion? Not that I would want to be paid.”
“Oh yes, Count. I think that would be most satisfactory.” She smiled contentedly and looked at Caroline and Blake. “It is only right that I should have some recompense. All my girls marry well, you know. I insist on it. I think that’s why they call me The Collector. Because I am a Collector of Hearts.”
“Yes, I am sure that must be the reason,” said the Count, indulgently.
Lady Cassandra watched from an upper window. She did not mind being misunderstood (even though she had worked so hard to alert Caroline to the dangers) and neither did she mind Mrs Oakengate taking the credit for the matchmaking. All that mattered to Cassandra was the result, in that two people who deserved to be happy were spared the pain and heartache she had known. She lifted up the two red silk hearts, on which she had embroidered the names ‘Blake’ and ‘Caroline’, and smiled at work well done, before putting them into her jewelled box with those of others who had either worked or lived at the abbey. She smiled secretively and murmured, “Who says love can only be enjoyed by the young?” Victoria Oakengate would enjoy being a Countess.
As Cassandra sewed she watched from the window. Blake and Caroline had stopped at the gate. They looked back up at the abbey and Caroline pointed to the window in which Lady Cassandra sat, smiling. Blake shook his head. He clearly could not see her. Laughing, he took his wife-to-be in his arms and kissed her, leaving them both blinded by love so that the next time Caroline looked, she could not see anything either.
Lady Cassandra smiled. That was exactly how it was meant to be.
A Collector of Hearts Page 10