Page 59 of Impetuous

She trailed along with the others toward the carriage. She arrived just as Philip was finishing tucking Joanna’s blanket around her to ward off all possible chills. Suddenly an imp seized her, and she turned toward Miss Yorke.

“Oh, dear! Miss Yorke, now there are too many for the carriage, I’m afraid.”

“Oh. You’re right.” The other woman looked disappointed, but said only, “I shall ride in the wagon.”

“Nonsense!” Cassandra protested. “My cousin’s horse is now without a rider. Why don’t you ride Joanna’s horse instead of going in the carriage?”

Cassandra was doubly rewarded by the way Miss Yorke’s face lit up, as well as by Joanna’s scowl. She knew that Joanna selfishly would not like any woman riding with Sir Philip, even the quiet and retiring Miss Yorke.

“I doubt that I am a good enough rider for it….” She began to demure reluctantly.

“Don’t worry about that,” Cassandra assured her breezily. “Joanna only rides very gentle horses. Besides, you will have Sir Philip with you in case you need help.”

“But I haven’t my riding habit.”

“Your skirts are amply full. I’m sure no one here will mind.”

“That would be lovely—if you are sure it would be all right…?” Miss Yorke turned toward her employer.

Sir Philip smiled at her. “Of course it would. Miss Verrere has thought of the perfect solution, as always. Come, Miss Yorke, ride with me.”

The woman went off happily with Sir Philip, and Cassandra climbed into the carriage beside her cousin. Joanna scowled at her blackly.

“Now, isn’t that nice for Miss Yorke?” Violet said happily. “She deserves a treat.”

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed pleasantly and smiled at her cousin. “Everything worked out perfectly, didn’t it?”

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, as Cassandra was leaving the breakfast table, Philip asked her curtly if she wished to work in the library again. She replied as briefly, and they walked down to the library and started to work. Later the twins offered to help, as did Georgette and Olivia, and for a while the library was enlivened by their young voices. However, the work was far too dull for them to last long at it, and when Philip and Cassandra came back that afternoon after their meal, the youngsters decided that they would rather go for a ride. Philip and Cassandra reverted to silence, working in stiff courtesy at opposite ends of the room.

Cassandra was dismayed at how long it was taking to search the library. She had not counted on its being such a massive room. It was slower going, too, than she had realized, twisting and turning to read the titles and having to pull out books and look through them when she wasn’t sure what sort of book it was. As the day passed, she found two books that seemed to be real possibilities. One was written by a man whose last name was Queen, and the other was a biography of Mary, Queen of Scots. Each time her heart leaped within her chest, but after going through them page by page, she found no evidence of a map. Philip, too, discovered a few books that might be the one they wanted, but all of them turned out to be disappointments, as well.

It could take days, even weeks, Cassandra realized before they found the correct book—and every minute that she spent with Philip was painful. She thought with longing of the days when they had talked together easily, when they had laughed…when he had looked at her in a way that made her insides melt. Now they said almost nothing, and there was no laughter. When Philip looked at her, it was with a carefully cool, blank face.

That evening Cassandra excused herself from supper and ate instead with the younger set in the nursery. She did not think she could stand to sit through another evening of watching Joanna throw herself at Philip.

She went to her room soon after they finished, not feeling up to the rousing game of charades the children were planning, but not wanting to spoil their fun with her gloom. She was wandering aimlessly around her bedroom, trying to find something to occupy the rest of her evening, when there was a tap on her door.

“Come in.” Cassandra turned and was surprised to see Philip’s mother open the door and walk in. “Lady Neville!”

She glanced a little curiously at the cloth that Lady Neville carried draped over one arm, but Violet made no mention of it. “Hello, dear. I wanted to make sure you were feeling all right, since you didn’t come down to supper.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I didn’t explain it well in my note. It wasn’t that I was ill, I just…felt I ought to eat with my brothers and sister. It is what they’re used to at home, you see, and I…”

“No need to explain,” Violet assured her airily. “I understand. That wasn’t the only reason I came. May I lay this down on your bed?”

“Yes, of course.”

Lady Neville put the cloth down on the bed and unfolded it. Cassandra could see now that it was a dress. Made of the palest lavender silk, it was a simple but lovely gown sewn in the latest style with the newer, narrow skirts drawn back over an underskirt of the same shade of satin. The bodice had a low, rounded neckline, with a soft cowl draping, and short, puffed sleeves.

“What a beautiful dress!” Cassandra exclaimed softly.

“Do you like it? I’m so glad.” Violet smiled at her. “You see, I ordered it a few weeks ago, and it just arrived today. I found when I tried it on that, well, it simply did not look the same on me as it had in the drawing. Of course, it is far too old for Georgette, but I thought perhaps you might be able to wear it.”

“Me?” Cassandra looked at her, startled.

“Why, yes. We are much the same height, you know, and while you are slenderer than I, that is one of the problems with it. It is too tight, I’m afraid to say. I must have gained some weight recently.”