Chapter Five #2
There was nothing more that Aunt Valentine loved than a strong amontillado and never held herself back from indulging.
“You don’t say ‘no, thank you’ to wine, darling.
The correct answer is always ‘yes, please.’” The rumor throughout the ton was that the Marchioness had a private reserve of Spanish wine that could have drowned half of London, but Cassandra had seen it for herself and knew it to be untrue.
Aunt Valentine’s reserve could have drowned all of London, twice over.
“Perish the thought.” Cassandra looked around, expecting to see the matron in the hall. “Where is she?”
“In a card room, forming opinions. She is primed for matchmaking.” Jasmine groaned.
“She’s most displeased that I haven’t found a husband.
It’s unbearable. It isn’t through lack of trying!
I’ve had five marriage proposals, but they were all so tedious.
Would it be too much to ask to have a meaningful conversation from time to time?
Lord Hereford was dreadfully dull. During one conversation, I actually fell asleep! ”
The walls displayed oil paintings of generations of Hollingsworth men in military uniforms, each with the same black hair, blue eyes, and square features.
Stout and authoritative, they scowled down at them as they walked.
Between the portraits, artistic renditions depicted men on horseback with raised rifles and snarling dogs, frozen in time, the object of their pursuit forever outside of their golden frames.
Around her, light slashed against the walls in jagged lines from the chandelier above. Barbed and clawed antlers melded together in a tangle, as if dozens of stags had come together to battle to the death and all of them had lost.
Jasmine continued chatting as she led them up the stairs and onto the second floor.
“Mama tells me that I’m too particular. As if that’s a bad thing!
Why shouldn’t I be particular with the man that I’ll be spending the rest of my life with?
Not someone so old that I’ll be a widow before I’m thirty.
And Lord Ipswich smelled of stewed cabbage.
That isn’t something I’m willing to tolerate, nor should anyone.
What’s worse is that she’s considering gentlemen in Spain.
Spain! She may as well ship me off to the moon! ”
Cassandra crinkled her nose. Would she be able to live with a man that smelled of cabbage?
The thought of being an early widow didn’t appeal to her either.
No, she would need a husband young enough that they could raise their children together, at least until school age.
And Spain? Could she move to another country?
She created a list of standards as Matthew had so eloquently put it and added English and no man who smells like stewed vegetables to the list under peer, wealthy, reasonably good health and temperament, between the ages of twenty-one and fifty.
“That’s another reason that I’m happy that you’re here,” Jasmine sang. “She will have to split her attentions between us, and I’ll finally be able to breathe.”
“I will happily take all of her attentions. I’ll keep her so busy that she won’t have time to fuss over you,” Cassandra vowed. “This is the year for me. It has to be.”
“You’re a loyal friend, Cassandra Cooper, and I like the determination.
” Jasmine nudged her side with her elbow.
“You know Mama will be up to the challenge. Tomorrow morning she’ll have a list and a battle plan, you wait and see.
Oh! I was supposed to be giving you a tour!
” She gave her a sheepish expression and waved her hand in the air. “Tomorrow, after breakfast, I promise.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes, but smiled.
“We have been taking tea in the main sitting room downstairs. There are four on each floor, though I would not recommend the one closest to your bedchamber. Not only is it a canary yellow so overwhelming that you’ll want to pluck your eyes out, but Lady Samantha has been frequenting it all day with her gaggle of geese. ”
“Lady Samantha always makes me want to pluck my eyes out, it doesn’t matter what the room looks like.”
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed debutante never failed to have a cutting remark, followed by a chorus of catty giggles from her cronies.
“I adore your dress, Miss Cooper. Was it your grandmother’s?
You’re so brave to have worn it twice. We could all take a page from your book. Isn’t that right, ladies?”
“We’re going to walk by and not look into the room,” Jasmine whispered, ducking her head, eyes twinkling. “In case Medusa rears her ugly head and petrifies us both.”
Jasmine was right. The room truly was the most horrid shade of yellow that her eyes hurt.
Cassandra wondered how painful it would be in full daylight, but had no intentions of finding out.
As luck would have it, Lady Samantha wasn’t in the room, but Cassandra couldn’t spend the next week avoiding her. She would have to face her, eventually.
But not yet.
Moving down the hall, Jasmine stopped next to a set of double doors.
“I almost don’t want to show you this, because I’ll have a hard time pulling you from it,” Jasmine said before opening the door.
The musty scent of old parchment and book dust greeted Cassandra.
A fiery orange glow from the sunset illuminated floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on either side of the vaulted room.
Stepping inside the library, she trailed her fingers along a row of leather-backed books, reading titles as she went.
15th Century Philosophers, Advanced Calculus Vol 5.
, The Misadventures of Miss Moffet and Muffins.
A children’s book? She couldn’t imagine children roaming these particular halls.
Her fingernail snagged on Practical Botany: The Natural Cures Around You.
“You’re right.” Cassandra pulled it from the shelf and opened the cover tenderly. “I already don’t want to leave.”
Jasmine shifted her weight to one foot and placed a hand on her hip.
“Put it back, before you ruin it. Opening ceremonies will begin in a few hours, and there will be a ball tonight. You’ll need a bath before dinner.
” Jasmine looked her over, taking in her travel-worn appearance.
“It’ll take every minute of that to get you presentable. ”
Jasmine stopped only one door away from the servants’ staircase at the end of the hall.
“Your brother’s bedchamber should be the one next door. I’ll give you some time to yourself, meet me near the staircase at a quarter to eight, and Mama and I will escort you to dinner.”
Cassandra opened the door and stepped into the most spacious bedchamber she had ever seen.
A large canopy bed pressed against the wall, draped in luxurious black silk, with carvings of trees and bears adorning the mahogany support beams. The room housed a large mirror vanity, two armoires, and a marble washstand on the opposite side of the room.
She marveled at her living quarters in disbelief.
Was she truly to spend the next week in such opulence?
“Cassandra?”
“Yes?” She turned to Jasmine, still in the doorway, affection shining in her eyes.
“I’m so glad that you’re here.”
“I am too.” Cassandra smiled and found that she meant it.
With a kiss on the cheek and a pull on the bell rope to summon a lady’s maid to help her dress, Jasmine left Cassandra alone in the bedchamber.
In short order, a lady’s maid bathed and dressed her in a powder-blue satin evening dress with elbow-length white gloves.
It was lucky to have made the trip unscathed, and even more that she fit into the dress at all with how long it had been since she had worn it.
She gazed at her reflection in the mirror and bit her lip.
The Cooper’s mourning period had ended in June officially, but it felt strange to wear brighter colors.
The greys and lavenders that had been functional at Cooper House were unacceptable here where she would need to stand out.
And with the low cut of her dress, she couldn’t help but feel exposed and flamboyant, even knowing that she would appear dowdy compared to the rest of the guests.
Cassandra finished fixing the last pin in her hair to tame the curl that always gave her trouble when she heard the heavy sound of footsteps in the hall.
Matthew. Her eyes shot to the clock on the mantel.
Hours had gone by! He must have been busy indeed if he were only now finishing with the Earl.
Cassandra moved to greet him, but when she opened her door, she met the ultramarine eyes of Mr. Reeves, shining brightly through a coating of dust on sun-reddened skin.
“Miss Cooper?” His eyes widened, and he quickly bowed to her. A brown leather rucksack slid from his shoulder with the movement and dirt rained onto the floor surrounding him. He tugged the bag back into place as he stood and marveled at her.
“You look lovely in blue.” His tone was soft, as it had been in the tree when he had told her she could trust him, that he wouldn’t let her fall, and again when he had held onto her and… Heat collected in the tips of her ears as she banished the image.
He looked anything but lovely.
A trail of footprints lead from the servants’ stairs across a worn section of carpet to the bedchamber door.
His black hair was filthy and dull in the low light.
He wore rumpled clothes, and wiry white and red horsehair covered his trousers.
Not that she was looking at his trousers!
She hastened to redirect her gaze to his face.
She smiled sweetly. “You look like you’ve been mauled by a dog.”
He barked a laugh.
“You never properly greet me, have you noticed that?” Mr. Reeves opened his bag and rummaged inside, hand emerging with a brass key adorned with an ornate H.
“Did you drive your own carriage?”
“Carriage?” He laughed again while placed the key in the lock and turned the curved handle. “I rode here.”
“All the way from Cooper House?” Her mouth fell open. “You could have accompanied us in the carriage!”
“And deprive Sabre of his morning routine?” He tsked twice and opened the door.
“What about your belongings?”
“Everything I need is in this room,” he said, taking a step through the door, “and in this bag.” He tapped the bag at his waist with an open hand.
A cloud of dust had her coughing and waving her hand in front of her face.
“I hate to leave you in the hall, but I need a wash and a change of clothes if I’m to be ready by dinner.
Lord Bolderwood abhors tardiness, and I would rather not be the subject of his ire again in such a short amount of time. ”
He moved to close the door.
“Wait!” She slammed her palm on the door to keep it open. His eyes widened with bewilderment and he stopped. She continued, “You must be mistaken. That’s Matthew’s bedchamber. He should be finishing up with the Earl soon and will want to settle in. You’ll have to find another bedchamber.”
“Cooper is settled into a bedchamber downstairs.” His eyebrows furrowed. “And I can assure you that I’m not mistaken. I’m also not moving. This is my bedchamber.” He peeked his head around her to gaze down the hallway. “Where is your chaperon?”
“Matthew is my chaperon.” She huffed. “You can’t sleep in the bedchamber next to me, it isn’t proper.”
“I’ve shared a house with you for three months!” He threw his hands into the air, the satchel swung back with the movement. He dropped it onto the floor.
“Not so loud!” she hissed. “It’s not the same in the slightest.” She let her hand fall to her side. “There are rules, Mr. Reeves. Rules are in place for a reason.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to move.” He shrugged. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash up Miss Cooper.” Before he closed the door, with a wolfish smile, he asked, “Or should I say, neighbor?”