Once he was safely in his room, he removed his coat and loosened his cravat. He was weary to the bone. To his soul. His father would never understand what Spalding’s near drowning had taken from him. The lightheartedness and levity that was usually his foremost mood had gone into hiding.
At least Miss Franklin appeared to be regaining her happy side. He was grateful for that. She might need the ability to laugh in the next few months while they sought out her family.
MASQUERADING AS A MISS
CHAPTER FIVE
On her first full day at Fenwick Abbey, Cassandra rode with Lady Fenwick and her daughters to the Stoke-on-Trent to replace her wardrobe. She’d owned very few gowns compared to those Agnes had searched to pass along. She did require chemise and stockings and those necessities, but the rest could wait until she found her aunt.
“You will adore this modiste,” Agnes gushed while they waited for a footman to place the step so they could descend from the carriage. “She has the latest of fashion, comparable to what’s worn in London. You needn’t fear being seen anywhere in her gowns.”
Cassandra gave a nervous glance at Lady Fenwick, who appeared oblivious to their conversation. “I don’t need gowns for London. I won’t be invited anywhere that elegant here. No one knows me.”
Lady Fenwick responded with a harrumph. “Any invitation we receive will naturally include you, and you cannot attend looking like a governess.”
Smoothing the gown Agnes had given her, Cassandra wondered if she looked as bad as all that. “I shall repay you as soon as I am able. I hate that you are going to such trouble on my behalf.”
Agnes squeezed her arm. “Shopping is never troublesome. I need some ribbon for my hat, and a new pair of stockings, and—”
“You need nothing of the sort,” Lady Matilda inserted. “You bought stockings last month, and none of your hats need new flowers, ribbons or any other addition.”
Agnes rolled her eyes and grinned at Cassandra. “Let’s look at La Belle Assembleé and choose your gowns.”
Lady Fenwick walked directly to the fabric samples. When the modiste approached, Lady Fenwick gave her instruction. “We require day gowns, plus one or two suitable for a small assembly, and all the necessary underpinnings for this young lady.” She pointed out several fabric choices.
Cassandra hadn’t had someone choose her wardrobe since she was a child. It was rather unnerving. She couldn’t speak up, though, since Lady Fenwick was gracious enough to purchase what was needed.
“We’ll want bonnets to match, ribbons for her hair, and, of course, shoes.” Lady Fenwick looked at Cassandra’s half-boots and sniffed. “We’ll stop at the cobbler’s and have a proper pair of boots made, my dear.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Whispering in Cassandra’s ear, Agnes said, “Since your great aunt is a peer, you may call her ma’am.”
Cassandra’s cheeks grew warm. Life was so much simpler in Savanna-la-Mar. “I will never have this all straight in my mind.”
“I shall do my best to address everyone as you should. No one will comment if you slip. Now, what do you think of this gown? Oh, you’ll need a spencer and a pelisse for the fall and winter.”
“I won’t be here that long, will I? I wrote to the Kimballs this morning. I should receive their reply by the end of summer, don’t you think?” With the way Lady Fenwick and Lady Matilda looked so condescendingly at Cassandra, she didn’t wish to spend a moment longer than necessary in their company.
“I hope you never hear from them. I want you to stay with us always.” Suddenly Agnes’s eyes grew round and she gasped. “That was horrid of me. Of course I want you to find your family as soon as possible. You will visit me, won’t you?”
“Of course. You’re my first friend in all of England. I will treasure your friendship always.”
After standing in place for measurements, having fabric held up to her face to find the shades that brought out her coloring, and trying on a few gowns that were already completed, Cassandra felt drained. Agnes still bounced and chirped like a young bird. Lady Matilda stood as regally as her mother, stiff, nose up, shoulders back, as though expending any energy was beneath her.
They were able to take a few gowns and chemises with them to the abbey. Agnes nearly dragged Cassandra up the staircase to her bedchamber. “As soon as one of the footmen brings up your purchases, you must try them on. We’ll see which of my bonnets are most becoming, and you may borrow them while you are here. We’ll share clothes just like sisters. I should say like most sisters. Matilda wears such plain gowns and hats, I have little desire to borrow her clothes.”
“That sounds delightful. I would also enjoy borrowing some of your enthusiasm, Agnes. Is there anything that makes you sad?”
She appeared to think for a moment, then grinned. “Only the thought of you leaving us.”
They laughed together and began to open the packages the footmen set on the bed. After making Cassandra try on each of the three gowns, Agnes picked one. “You must wear the blue muslin and wear this bonnet.”
“We’re not going out, are we? Why do I need a bonnet?”
“We’ll walk into the village. Jenny and Ann will accompany us. We can look into the shop windows, and you may meet some of the ladies from the village. Once they see you, they’ll all invite you to pay morning calls.”
Donning the blue gown, Cassandra let Ann straighten her hair before putting on her bonnet and gloves, while Agnes rushed to her bedchamber to gather her own necessities.
The walk down the narrow road was lovely, the weather clear and not too hot. They passed a wagon or two, and one carriage as grand as Lady Fenwick’s. “That’s the Duke of Clayton’s carriage. I wonder who is inside. I hope it’s one of his sons. They are so handsome. You’d do well to attract their attention. Oh, but take care around Lord Nathan. If only half of what they say about him is true, he’s still been involved in more scandals than any ten young men I know.”
“Surely he’s not as bad as that.” Cassandra couldn’t imagine anyone being such a disgrace and still receiving invitations to respectable assemblies.
““I’ve never actually seen him do so, of course, but he’s been caught in the garden with different young ladies on several occasions, both here and in Town. And they weren’t walking, if you catch my meaning.”
That had to be an exaggeration. Agnes was prone to dramatizing everything, which led to interesting conversations but none that could be taken seriously.
The buildings in Fenwick Village were a delightful mix of Elizabethan rough timber and the formal Georgian lines, and a little of everything in between. Men on horseback rode the streets, and ladies strolled, stopping to chat or look into store windows.
“Come,” Agnes said, picking up her pace. “We’ll start at the lending library. There’s a book I’ve been waiting for.”
Cassandra followed her into a small shop filled with shelves and shelves of books, but very few people. She didn’t dare look at the individual titles or she wouldn’t want to leave. Instead, she waited while Agnes did her business.
When they returned to the street, a finely dressed young man exited another shop a few doors down. He held his hat and gloves under one arm and flicked a wavy lock of hair off his forehead. He glanced their way and smiled. He was strikingly handsome, almost as good looking as Lord Spalding.
As he approached them, Agnes said, “Good afternoon, Lord Nathan. May I introduce my friend Miss Franklin? She has come to visit us. Miss Franklin, this is Lord Nathan Pressley.”
He bowed. “Delighted, Miss Franklin. You will bring her to our ball next month, won’t you, Lady Agnes? Mother would enjoy meeting you, Miss Franklin.”
As heat spread up her neck, Cassandra dropped her gaze from his enchanting brown eyes. Her heart was doing strange things in reaction to the way he was eyeing her. The sensation was nothing like when Spalding kissed her. His look made her feel shameful, dirty. She longed to be anywhere but with him. “Than
k you, sir. You are too kind.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “I would be happy to know you better. In fact, you must save the first dance for me.” With his pompous air, she doubted any lady turned him down.
“I’d enjoy that, sir.”
Someone rode up on horseback from behind them. Lord Nathan glanced up, his features freezing into a polite mask. “Spalding. I see you’re keeping watch on your sister, as always.”
Lord Spalding nodded his greeting with no expression on his face. “I do no such thing. I trust Lady Agnes to avoid speaking to anyone who might damage her reputation.”
“Aha, and I suppose you include me in that group. Well, ladies, I shall return to my errands. Don’t forget, Miss Franklin, the first dance.”
Lord Spalding dismounted. “You agreed to dance with him?”
“I couldn’t refuse him when we’ve only now been introduced.”
“Brother, you worry too much. Lord Nathan would never do anything untoward in his own father’s home.”
“Don’t assume anything where that man is concerned.”
Cassandra wondered what had passed between the two men to cause their conspicuous dislike. Lord Nathan had left in good humor, but he seemed to be making light of whatever Spalding felt. She’d have to ask Agnes about it at another time.
“Do you have other stops to make?” Spalding asked.
“No, we’re browsing and hoping to see a friend or two,” Agnes said. “I want Miss Franklin to know all of my friends.”
“That’s very generous of you. Miss Franklin, have you met many young ladies today?”
“We’ve just arrived. Lord Nathan is the only person I’ve met.”
Spalding scowled. “Take care to avoid that man.”
“I warned her already, Spalding.” When Agnes laughed, the curls around her face bounced. “We saw his coach on the road.”
“I’m pleased to hear you’re guiding her wisely. May I walk with you?”
“Of course,” Cassandra said before Agnes could argue, if that was her intent. Butterflies stirred in her stomach when he was near. She’d never grow tired of him being close. “Do you have a favorite shop?”
Chuckling, Spalding said, “I fear I don’t enjoy shopping as much as my sisters do.”
“Neither he nor Matilda cares to shop. That’s why I’m so happy to have you here.” Agnes squeezed Cassandra’s arm.
Cassandra wouldn’t admit she had little interest in it either. She enjoyed being outdoors. She’d spent a lot of time walking in Savanna-la-Mar and hoped to be able to in her new home, once she found it.
When Agnes insisted on visiting the confectionary, Cassandra asked to remain with Spalding. There was no sense going inside when she had no money to spend.
Spalding must have read her mind. “I’d be happy if you let me buy you some treats.”
“No, thank you. I’m not very fond of them.”
“Don’t let Agnes hear you say such a thing. She’ll call the doctor, insisting you must be ill.” He exaggerated greatly, but it did sound like something Agnes might do.
When a passing carriage stirred up dust, Cassandra reached inside her reticule for her handkerchief. Clumsy thing that she was, she dropped the bag before she could open it. She quickly bent to pick it up.
Spalding did the same. His hand closed over hers on the strings. He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
Before he could speak, Cassandra straightened. Even through her gloves she was too aware of his touch. One of her eyes watered from the dust. Rather than fight with her reticule again, she swiped a finger below her eye.
“Did I upset you?” He stepped closer, his brow creasing.
“No, it’s the dust. I shall be fine.”
He reached for her face. “Let me look.” Spreading her eyelids apart, he searched her eye. His breath was loud in her ears, and it seemed to quicken like hers did at his nearness. “I don’t see anything.
Cassandra glanced down when he stepped back, afraid he’d see how strongly his touch affected her.
Agnes chose that moment to return. “Well, I’m surprised at you, brother. Mere moments after warning Miss Franklin off rakes like Lord Nathan, you practically kiss her here on the street.”
“Keep your voice down. I did no such thing.”
Cassandra began to explain the truth, but Spalding said it first. Agnes laughed as though it were the funniest joke.
It was a joke to contemplate Lord Spalding wanted to kiss her again. What had passed between them that night was brought on by the emotion of shipwreck, and of being safe again.
Lord Spalding left them, and the girls turned back toward the abbey. Agnes chatted most of the way, but Cassandra’s thoughts kept her far away in the only home she’d known.
She’d never thought to dig deeper into Mama’s reasons for moving to Jamaica. After losing her husband, it was quite reasonable to desire a change. Mama had said she waited until a few months after Cassandra was born, then bought passage for the two of them and a maid.
Their cottage in Savanna-la-Mar wasn’t the smallest, nor the largest in town. It was big enough for the two of them, and that was all that mattered. As a child, Cassandra never questioned where their income came from. As she grew older, she thought about it once or twice, but it wasn’t a big enough concern. They had what they needed.
About the time Cassandra turned nineteen, Mama’s friends began to discuss her need for marriage. “There’s no rush,” Mama always replied.
“There aren’t any gentlemen her age here,” said one woman. “You should allow her to meet some of the men who come from England to visit the plantations.”
“No,” Mama said too quickly. “The right man will come along. Maybe an American.”
American men held no more interest to Cassandra than Englishmen. She wanted a family but had never been in love. The location of a man’s home was the last thing she and her friends would discuss when listing desirable qualities. The size of the home, perhaps, but never the location. She’d assumed she’d remain in Jamaica to be close to her mother.
She sighed. Her heart grew so heavy when she thought about Mama. She would just have to wait and see what lay ahead of her now.
MASQUERADING AS A MISS
CHAPTER SIX
Poor Jenny rushed between the bedchambers of Agnes, Matilda, and Cassandra, trying to assist them in getting ready for the Duke of Clayton’s ball. The evening was warm, so Cassandra already had a handkerchief to her face, dabbing at the perspiration.
Ann’s hands shook from her nerves. “I’m so sorry, miss. This is a duke’s ball. Your appearance must be perfect.”
“I will look fine, Ann. Please stop fretting and finish my hair.”
Jenny came in the door as Cassandra spoke. “Yes, Ann, we don’t want the others waiting on Miss Franklin. You did a beautiful job on her hair. That’s enough pins. Those flowers won’t fall out.”
Ann chewed her lower lip as she stepped back.
Cassandra touched one of the silk flowers pinned around her head. “It’s beautiful, Ann. I thank you.”
Her maid’s smile was hesitant.
“You must learn to accept praise. I will tell you if I need something done differently, so you may trust me when I say well done.”
“Yes, miss.” Ann scurried into the dressing room.
Cassandra stood and took in her appearance in the mirror. This was the finest of the gowns Lady Fenwick had ordered, made of white Venetian gauze, with embroidered leaves and pink Indian roses circling the hem. The flowers in her hair matched the ones on the gown. Astonished at how one beautiful gown could alter her appearance, she picked up her shawl and reticule and descended the stairs to look for the others. Her feet floated down the staircase in her excitement and anticipation of the evening ahead.
Lord Spalding waited in the entry hall, pacing idly between the staircase and the drawing room doors. He spun just in time to see Cassandra descend the last two steps.
His eyes widened.
“Please don’t tell me I looked so horrid before that you are surprised at my transformation.” She wouldn’t admit to her own amazement.
“Surprised isn’t the word I’d use. Delighted is much more suited. You are quite lovely. You are always lovely, of course,” he added quickly.
Standing opposite him, Cassandra grew self-conscious. She noted how fine Spalding looked in his evening clothes. His black cutaway coat emphasized his broad shoulders, and his cravat was tied with an extra flourish. “You are very handsome this evening.”
“In comparison to the limp rag I was when we washed up on the beach?”
“Heavens, that’s not what I meant. Of course you were less than your best then. We both were.”
“Then you are comparing me to my usual scruffy self?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth. I should have said you are very handsome and left it at that.”
Lord Fenwick cleared his throat in the doorway of the drawing room.
Cassandra wished for a potted plant to hide behind.
“Father, I’m planning to ride Hercules to Clayton House.”
Lord Fenwick’s lips thinned. “Nonsense. You’ll smell of horse when you arrive. There’s room enough in the carriage. You’ll ride with the rest of us.”
Spalding’s shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh. “Very well.”
Lady Matilda appeared suddenly next to Cassandra, having slipped soundlessly down the stairs. “Agnes is running behind as usual.”
“She’s her mother’s daughter,” said the earl with a wry grin.
A few minutes later the remaining two family members joined the others. “Shall we go?” asked Lady Fenwick.
Cassandra sat between Agnes and the countess, with the other three seated opposite. The drive through the countryside took less than an hour. In the darkness, Cassandra was unable to see the duke’s home until they’d traveled up the long drive. Light burned brightly in the countless windows on the front façade, and the enormous carved wooden doors stood open, spilling out even more light.
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