Chapter 18 #2
“I’ll make sure that Cassie’s lessons include the traditional curriculum,” she said, her voice carefully even. “Alongside anything else she wishes to learn.”
Hudson nodded simply.
The dog, apparently satisfied that the adults had matters in hand, trotted off down the corridor, his nails clicking on the hardwood.
“Thank you,” Augusta said after a moment. “For listening.”
Hudson nodded again, then turned and walked away.
She watched quietly, waiting for him to look back. He did not.
Hudson paused when he arrived at the drawing room, only to find Cassie perched on the edge of the blue silk sofa, her stockinged feet swinging several inches above the carpet.
The afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows, turning the dust motes to gold and illuminating the carefully lettered list she’d spent the last hour compiling.
At the top of the page, in her best handwriting, she had written: THINGS I CAN DO FOR THE SPRING BALL, and below it, in slightly less careful script, a column of tasks ranging from polishing silver to helping choose flowers to keeping Pippin from eating the cake.
“I’m certain your brother will consider it,” Augusta said, her tone carefully neutral in the way that adults used when they weren’t actually certain at all.
“I’m going to ask him,” Cassie announced, sliding off the sofa and tucking her list into her pocket. “Right now.”
Augusta’s head lifted. “Perhaps—”
This, Hudson decided, was quite possibly the best possible time to make his presence known.
He cleared his throat. “Cassie. Miss Norton. I believe you mean to ask me something?”
Cassie straightened her back and lifted her chin proudly. “I’ve decided to volunteer,” she announced, producing her list with a flourish. “For the spring ball.”
Hudson’s eyebrows rose. “Volunteer,” he repeated.
“Yes.” Cassie stepped forward and placed the list on the side table, smoothing it with her palm. “I can help. Look, I’ve made a list of all the things I’m qualified to do. Some of them I’m extremely qualified for. Number four, for instance. I’m excellent at keeping track of things.”
Hudson picked up the list, his eyes moving down the column. “You’ve included supervising the footmen.”
“They’ll need supervision,” Cassie said firmly. “Footmen always do. James says they’re the worst gossips in any household and must be managed with a firm hand.”
For a minute, Hudson thought he would be unable to hold back his laughter. He managed to do so. “Did he?”
“He did.” Cassie leaned forward, both hands braced on the edge of the table. “Please, Hudson. I can be useful. I won’t get in the way! I’ll do exactly as I’m told and step back the instant I’m overwhelmed.” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one landing between them like a pebble. “I promise.”
Hudson set the list down. “A ball,” he said slowly, “is not like a birthday party or even a dinner. There are a hundred details to manage, from the guest list to the wine to the musicians to the flowers. Every one of those details matters. If something goes wrong…”
“I’ll fix it,” Cassie insisted. “Or find someone who can. That’s what you always say to do.”
The corner of Hudson’s mouth twitched. “Miss Norton? Your opinion?”
Augusta stepped forward, her skirts whispering against the carpet.
“I believe,” she said, her voice measured, “that Lady Cassandra is quite capable of handling certain aspects of the preparations. Under supervision, of course.” Her eyes met Cassie’s.
“The key will be honesty. With yourself and with us. If a task proves too complex or too tedious, you must say so. There’s no shame in recognizing one’s limits. ”
Cassie nodded vigorously. “I will. I promise.”
Hudson studied them both for a long moment, his finger tapping a slow rhythm against the table.
“Very well,” he said at last. “You may help. But—” He held up a hand as Cassie began to bounce on her feet.
“There are conditions. First, you will work under Miss Norton’s direct supervision at all times.
Second, you will undertake only the tasks that are both appropriate to your age and within your capabilities.
Third, the moment you feel overwhelmed or frustrated, you will say so immediately.
” His expression softened fractionally. “This is meant to be an education, not a punishment.”
Cassie nodded so fast that a curl came loose from its pin.
“I understand. Thank you, Hudson. You won’t regret it.
I’ll be the best ball helper in the history of ball helpers.
I’ll—” She broke off, as if a thought had just occurred to her.
“There’s one more thing. Miss Norton and I should attend.
The ball, I mean. Since we’ll be helping to plan it, we should see how it turns out. Don’t you think?”
Hudson lifted an eyebrow, unable to keep his surprise from showing.
“It’s highly irregular for a child your age to attend a formal ball,” Augusta said quietly. “Young ladies typically make their debut at sixteen or seventeen.”
“But it’s our house,” Cassie pointed out. “Our ball. You make the rules.” She turned to Hudson, fixing him with her typical pleading puppy eyes. “Please? I’ll stay with Miss Norton the entire time. I won’t speak to anyone without permission. I’ll go to bed the instant you say it’s time!”
“It would allow Cassie to see the results of her efforts,” Augusta said softly. “And I would, of course, ensure that she retires at a reasonable hour.”
“Very well,” Hudson relented. “You may both attend. Though I reserve the right to change my mind if your assistance proves more disruptive than helpful.”
Cassie launched herself at him, nearly upsetting a vase in her enthusiasm.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck with enough force to make him grunt.
“I’ll be so helpful you won’t even know I’m there.
Except you will, because I’ll be helping, but you know what I mean. I’ll—”
“Cassie.” Hudson’s voice held a note of long-suffering patience. “Be gentle.”
She released him immediately, stepping back with her best attempt at dignity. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry in the least. “I’ll go tell Mrs. Beale right away. She’ll want to add me to the planning committee.”