A Loving Spirit (22 page)

"What is that?"

"When shall we announce our betrothal? At the masked ball?"

"Oh, that would be perfect!" Cassie said in delight. "But..."

"But what? You are not changing your mind!"

"Never! I just want to wait until the day of the ball to tell your mother and my aunt."

"Whatever for?"

Cassie was not quite sure, herself. She only knew that she wanted this to be a secret for just a little while longer; she wanted it to be her own happiness. Then, the day of the ball, she would joyfully shout it from the rooftops, and draw everyone else into the pink glow of her contentment.

"I just want to be
quietly
happy about it for a while," she answered. "And your mother is so very busy with the preparations for the ball."

"Hm. You are quite right," Phillip said. "I am sure that the moment she hears the news she will begin planning the wedding.
Two
festive occasions might be too much for her."

"Then we are agreed?"

"Agreed. It will be our secret until the day of the ball."

Then he drew her back into his arms for another kiss, one to seal their betrothal. It was very late indeed when they arrived back at the castle.

* * *

"You are getting
married
?" Antoinette cried, staring at Cassie in a stunned manner. "Truly?"

Cassie laughed and tossed her hat and riding crop onto her bed. As soon as they returned from their ride, she had gone to tell Antoinette the news. She might be able to keep a secret from Lady Royce and Aunt Chat for a short time, but she could never keep a secret from Antoinette.

"I am truly getting married," she said. "Are you not happy for me?"

Antoinette finally managed to close her mouth and rushed over to hug Cassie. "I am more than happy for you, my dearest friend! Lord Royce is a good man and deserving of your love." She drew back to peer closely into Cassie's face. "You do love him, don't you?"

"Of course I love him," Cassie said. "I would not marry him otherwise."

"I know you would not. It is just that when we first met him, you were not—overly fond of him."

Cassie smiled at her and went over to the dressing table to let her hair down and start brushing the tangles out. "That was then. And you did not care for him at first, either."

"He has proven himself to be a man of open mind and great intelligence, and not just intelligent from books, either. He has a kind heart, and he loves you a great deal. I could ask for nothing more for you." Antoinette's reflection in the mirror smiled, but her eyes looked sad and distant. She turned away and sat down in a chair beside the fire.

Cassie wanted no sadness from anyone she loved on this day. She wanted everyone to feel as joyful as she did! She put down the brush and swung around to face Antoinette. "Is something amiss? Did something happen while I was gone?" A terrible thought struck her. "Is Mr. Bates..."

"No, no!" Antoinette answered quickly. "He has not been seen again. It is just—well, I have been thinking perhaps I should go back to Jamaica. After your wedding would be a good time."

Cassie was absolutely appalled. She ran across the room to kneel down beside Antoinette's chair, and took her friend's hands in hers. "No! You cannot leave me."

"Cassie, you know I would miss you horribly. But you are beginning a new life now, a new circle. Perhaps it is time for me to go back."

Cassie shook her head violently. "You said when we left that there was nothing for you in Jamaica. That your mother's family, well, that they did not..." Her voice trailed away.

"That they did not approve of my closeness to a white family," Antoinette finished gently. "No, they did not, and they chose not to let me be a true part of their community any longer. You were all my family, and I was happy to come here with you."

"Are you not content here in England? Do we not have a good life?"

"A very good life, and I am quite content here. I was looking for a new beginning of my own, you know. But we both know that it is highly unlikely I will ever marry. I can't stay under your feet forever."

"You are hardly 'under my feet'!" Cassie protested stubbornly. "I need you. The ghosts need you, and Aunt Chat needs you. One day, my children will need you. If you grow bored here at the castle, you can always go see Aunt Chat in Bath. But I will
not
hear another word about your returning to Jamaica! And that is that."

Antoinette smiled. "No one could ever argue with you when your mind is made up."

"No, indeed. So, you will stay?"

"I will stay. Only for as long as you need me, though."

"Then you will be here forever!" Cassie cried happily. "Oh, Antoinette! We are going to be so happy here. I can just feel it."

Chapter 22

The next few days passed very quickly, in a blur of social engagements and preparations for the masked ball. Under Lady Royce's careful supervision, the ballroom was cleaned and polished from the frescoed ceiling to the parquet floor. Musicians were hired, new draperies were hung at the windows, and potted palms in unheard-of quantities were brought in.

The costumes were delivered by the dressmaker, and tried on amid much laughter and posing. Guests from far away arrived to stay at the castle and at the inn in the village. They were entertained with suppers, and card parties, and picnics on the shore. There was tea at the Lewishams' vicarage, where they were invited to help plan the annual parish bazaar, and a musicale at Lady Paige's house.

With all the activity swirling around them, Cassie and Phillip could not find a great deal of time to spend quietly together. But they would take their books to the garden in the mornings and stroll the paths and talk about their readings. It was all perfectly proper, and if they occasionally crept behind a hedge to exchange a quick, stolen kiss, who was to know?

At night, Cassie would lie in her bed and hug all the warm happiness of the day close to her. She had truly never been more content than she was now at Royce Castle, and every moment was precious to her, a perfect pearl she could take out and marvel over again in the darkness of her room. She was surrounded by friends, by warm security, and the shining promise of love and a good future.

She clung to these things, as if a small part of her feared they might be snatched away.

* * *

"You are certain this is what they mean to do, Angelo?" Lady Lettice said, kneeling down to place her hands on the dwarf's small shoulders.

He nodded vehemently. "Very certain! I snuck into their lodgings again tonight. Mr. Bates is very angry. Very angry indeed. He wants revenge on Miss Richards and Lord Royce. Angelo does
not
like him!"

Lady Lettice patted his shoulder and stood up. "We will not have to worry about him at all after tomorrow night. Is everyone ready?"

Louisa and Sir Belvedere nodded.

"Cassie's costume is a shepherdess, which Mr. Bates knows since Lady Royce mentioned it when they first arrived here," said Louisa. "I have discovered she keeps it in the dressmaker's box at the bottom of her wardrobe."

"And I have examined the 'gentlemen's' carriage," said Sir Belvedere. "There will be no trouble at all."

"Excellent," Lady Lettice said with a smile. "Then we need only wait for tomorrow night. When they make their move, we shall make our own."

The day of the masked ball was a cold one, with a gray sky and an angry, frothy sea. This put an end to the planned luncheon picnic, and all the house-guests at Royce Castle had to stay indoors. There were card games in the drawing room and charades in the gallery. Servants hurried to and fro, carrying costumes to be pressed, trays of tea, and, as the preparations for the ball itself commenced, hot water for baths.

Laughter and chatter echoed through the ancient castle, as they had not for so many years.

Lady Royce went once more to examine the ballroom before she went to dress. It looked as it had when she had first danced there as a young bride, so very long ago. Footmen were lighting candles in the sconces, casting a golden glow over the cream brocade upholstery of the chairs and the deep yellow-green leaves of the palms. The musicians were practicing on their dais, a sweet, old-fashioned minuet.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself swirling about the dance floor with her husband again...

A gentle hand touched her arm. "Edward," she whispered, without thinking. When she turned around to look, she found not her husband, but her son, who was his very image.

"No, Mother. It is me," Phillip said gently.

She laughed. "Oh! I am very silly. I was thinking of my first ball here. Your father was so very handsome!" She laid her hand against his cheek, and he covered it with his own warm palm. "You look so much like him."

"I miss him, too, Mother," he said. "I remember how much he enjoyed a ball! He would like this tonight."

"Indeed he would. But you are not yet dressed in your costume, dear! We should be getting ready."

"We will, Mother, but I wanted to speak with you about something first."

"Of course. What is it? Is there something you do not like about the arrangements? I know that you prefer your quiet..."

"It is not that at all. I am sure the ball will be perfect." He took her arm and led her to some chairs arranged in a quiet corner, out of the way of the hurrying servants. "I have some news for you."

"Good
news?" she asked worriedly. She wanted nothing to spoil this night.

Phillip laughed. "Of course it is good news! I have spoken to Lady Willowby this afternoon, and have been given 'official' permission to make it public. I asked Cassandra Richards to marry me, and she accepted."

She stared at him in stunned silence. Was her fondest hope, the one she had thought could never come true, happening? Had her son found love?

"You and—and Miss Richards are to be married?" she whispered.

His hopeful smile flickered at her wide-eyed shock. "Yes. I love her, Mother. And, amazingly enough, she returns my feelings. I would like to announce the betrothal tonight at the ball."

Pure, perfect joy, unlike any she had felt since the night of that long-ago ball, burst through her. She flung her arms around him, sobbing against his neck.

"Mother!" he said, startled. "Are you not happy?"

"I am beyond happy! All my prayers are answered, my dear Phillip. I am to have a daughter at last!"

If either of them had looked up to the portrait of Edward Leighton that hung on the wall, they might have noticed a suspicious brightness about the painted blue eyes. But the sparkle turned back to matte emptiness before they even quit laughing.

* * *

"What do you think about my new coiffure, Antoinette?" Cassie asked, twisting about to examine her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Long, carefully formed dark curls bounced and danced over her shoulders. "I think it may be a bit—silly."

"Not at all!" Antoinette answered, adjusting her own costume around her tall figure. She was dressed as Cleopatra, in long pleats of white muslin, cinched in at the waist with gold cord and with a collar of turquoise and coral beads over her shoulders. A gold headdress in the shape of a serpent sat atop her upswept hair. She looked exotic and regal. Cassie only wished she had thought of being Cleopatra first. "You are a shepherdess, Cassie. You are meant to look a bit silly."

Cassie
wanted
to be elegant, as Antoinette was. This was not a night for "silly"!

Yet her happiness at the prospect of dancing with Phillip, as well as the announcement he wanted to make, overcame everything. She laughed, gave her curls one last shake, and went to take the dressmaker's box containing her costume out of the wardrobe.

She lifted the lid—and paused, puzzled. "Antoinette."

"Yes?" Antoinette said, fussing with her headdress.

"This is not the costume the dressmaker delivered the other day, is it?"

Antoinette came to peer over her shoulder. "Not at all! You tried it on, remember? It was not like that one bit. Is this a joke?"

"I am not sure." Cassie unfolded the costume in the box. It was assuredly
not
the blue-and-yellow shepherdess dress. The straw, ribbon-trimmed bonnet and the crook were missing, too.