Chapter 5 #2
She began walking hurriedly in what she hoped was the direction to the cathedral, dodging passersby, carriages, and sedan chairs with their scurrying footmen that clogged the street.
Suddenly she spied an empty carriage in front of a coffeehouse, the stout driver leaning on the lacquered side as if waiting for someone.
She ran toward him, startling his horses as she called out to him.
The two spirited animals neighed and snorted, their hooves nervously pawing the cobblestones.
“Pl-please, sir, I need…a ride to…St. Stephen’s…” she gasped breathlessly, slumping exhausted against the carriage.
“Eh, there, what do you think yer doing, wench, scaring the horses like that?” the driver shouted in anger, grabbing the bridle of the nearest horse and making clicking sounds with his tongue to calm them. Yet his tone softened as he noted her obvious distress.
“If it’s the cathedral you want, miss, yer heading the wrong way,” he said, pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. “And this carriage isn’t for hire. I’m waiting on a fine gentleman inside, sorry to say, for I’d like to oblige ye.”
Kassandra drew out the velvet bag from her bodice, ignoring the man’s raised eyebrow. She opened it, her eyes widening at the bright gold coins tumbling into her open palm. She had stolen a small fortune! She quickly recovered her composure, holding out three of the coins to the astonished driver.
“If you please, sir,” she murmured, her gaze not leaving his face, “I will pay you three more as soon as we arrive at St. Stephen’s.”
The driver gaped at the coins in his hand, nodding his head, then quickly pocketed them. He fumbled for the door, opening it with a bow and a flourish, then gallantly held out his arm.
“My thanks,” Kassandra said tersely, accepting his offer of assistance. She stepped into the carriage, relief surging through her. “I’m in a great hurry,” she added. “You must get me to the cathedral as quickly as you can.”
“Oh, aye, miss!” the driver blurted, shutting the door firmly. He jumped into his seat and snapped his whip above the heads of his horses.
“Hold there, man, I thought I paid you to wait,” a rotund gentleman called out, hurrying from the coffeehouse. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry, milord, but this lady here says she’s in a hurry,” the driver shouted with a laugh as the carriage clattered down the street at a devil’s pace.
Kassandra stared out anxiously from the window, unable to relax even as the accursed tavern was left farther and farther behind.
Would Zoltan still be at the cathedral? She could tell it was well past four o’clock. The streetlamps were already lit along the darkening streets.
Kassandra sighed heavily. She could only hope he had not yet returned to the estate and raised an alarm over her disappearance. There would be hell to pay for this misadventure if Isabel had already returned from the royal gala to find her missing.
If only she had not lost her cloak, Kassandra thought miserably.
Then she might at least be able to hide her wretched appearance.
She looked down at her gown, her fingers quickly working through the tangles in her hair.
There really wasn’t anything she could do about it, she told herself resignedly, except brush off some of the dirt.
The jagged tear in the skirt was another matter. How would she ever explain it?
“Damn him,” Kassandra muttered under her breath, then she shook her head fiercely.
No, you will not think of him anymore! she vowed with defiance. You will put this whole scandalous experience from your mind and pretend it never happened.
Yet even as she made her vow, her skin burned with the memory of his caresses, while her lips ached from the power of his kiss.
Kassandra closed her eyes tightly and slammed her fist upon the velvet seat, willing the memories from her mind.
Yet she could not forget the blazing heat of his eyes, flint gray with just a hint of blue. They were like a hot brand searing into her even now, a scorching reflection of his all encompassing desire…forever etched upon her memory.
“We’re almost there, milady!” shouted the carriage driver. Kassandra started, his voice jarring into her tormented thoughts, flushing her body with apprehension.
“Please, please let Zoltan still be waiting,” she murmured fervently, peering out the window at the massive cathedral, its twin spires piercing the twilight sky.
“Whoa! Whoa, there,” the driver commanded, bringing the rumbling carriage to a stop.
Kassandra opened the door and stepped onto the street even as the driver jumped down from his seat.
“My thanks,” she said, dropping the three gold coins into his hand and searching anxiously for the familiar carriage.
She began to walk toward the main entrance of the cathedral, the driver forgotten.
He’s gone back to the estate without me, Kassandra thought resignedly, her heart sinking as she surveyed the deserted cathedral square.
“Lady Kassandra!”
She whirled sharply, the sound of Zoltan’s gruff voice filling her with elation. She spied the von Furstenberg carriage waiting by the side door of the cathedral and ran toward it.
“Milady, what kept ye?” Zoltan asked, his face etched with worry. His gaze moved over her, quickly taking in her bedraggled appearance. “It’s almost six o’clock. I didn’t know whether to leave and fetch help, or stay here and wait awhile longer.”
Kassandra flushed at his frank perusal, inwardly cursing again the man who had so callously disrupted her life.
“Please, Zoltan, I’m fine,” she assured him, her mind racing.
She wanted to avoid the question in his eyes, but she had to offer him some explanation for her tardiness.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting…but I—” She stopped.
She simply could not think of any plausible excuse.
No, Kassandra decided. It was better to say nothing. She looked steadily at the burly Hungarian, her eyes pleading for his understanding, and his silence. “Please, Zoltan, I would like to return to the estate at once.”
Zoltan cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting his feet, then slowly nodded.
“Aye, milady, as you wish.” He whipped his great cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped the garment around her.
“You’ll need this, milady. The night is growing cold.
” He looked away for a moment, embarrassed, then turned back to her.
“You may return it to me on the morrow.”
Kassandra smiled faintly, tears springing to her eyes. “You have my thanks, Zoltan,” she murmured, taking his proffered arm as he helped her into the carriage.
She slumped against the seat, her body limp with exhaustion, wanting nothing more at that moment than to be safely back at the von Furstenberg estate.