Nicholas’s face was all too plain, he’d rid himself of an inconvenience, his duty as her godmother’s son was quit, now he could get on with enjoying himself.
Nicholas eyed her. ‘No.’
‘So I am to be a prisoner in this house, bored to tears, with no diversion…’
‘There is no alternative, unless you want me to pack you straight home again, you ungrateful br– ’ He stopped suddenly, clearly recalling the steward’s presence. ‘I shall do my best to make sure you are not bored. If I arrange a small allowance for you, you may engage a dressmaker. Tomorrow I will find you a dancing master, a French master and a drawing master. That way your days will be filled, and by the time my mother returns, you may be fit to go about with her, perhaps even attend young people’s parties.’
Cassandra felt a rush of contrition. Repeated disappointments were hitting her like blows, making her act like the girl he thought her. Nicholas was trying to do his best for her under the most difficult of circumstances. The suspicion that he would have done almost anything to get rid of her was unworthy.
‘Thank you, Nicholas, that is very kind of you,’ she said meekly.
‘That is settled, then.’ He shot her a suspicious glance, as if he had expected some resistance. ‘Go with Gaston now, he will take you to Madame Robert. And behave yourself, child.’
He kept calling her child . It galled, but it served her purpose.
The sharp-eyed Frenchwoman to whom Gaston handed her with an explanation in rapid French was not so easily fooled.
‘I thought Monsieur Gaston said you were fifteen, Mademoiselle, ’ she commented an hour later, handing Cassandra a towel as she climbed out of the bath.
‘I…’ Cassandra was within an inch of confirming the lie when she looked up and met the other woman’s beady regard. The dark eyes were not unkind, but they were shrewd. ‘I am eighteen,'’ she confessed. ‘But the Earl believes me to be younger.’
‘And you thought it wise not to set him right,’ the housekeeper said drily. ‘I see.’
‘You do, Madame ?’ Cassandra was surprised.
‘But, yes. You have to leave home – an affaire of the heart, no doubt? – the Earl is your only friend. Why embarrass him with the truth?’
Cassandra smiled to herself, but said only, ‘You speak excellent English, Madame .’
‘My late husband was a wine merchant. For many years during the war we lived in Bristol. When he died I returned to France. The English climate does not suit me.’
She bustled around gathering up the discarded male clothing. ‘When you are dressed à la jeune femme , we will engage for you a lady’s maid. Until then, we must be discreet, I will look after you.’ She held up a peignoir borrowed from the Countess’s wardrobe. ‘Put this on and I will fetch you a little supper. Tomorrow we will find you a few simple dresses. While the Earl is here, it is best you remain fifteen.’ Her lips quirked in amusement.
Cassandra relaxed, curled up in an armchair before the fire. The warmth of the day had turned to evening cool in the high-ceilinged mansion. Despite everything, she felt happiness creeping back. She was in Paris, her father would never find her here, and Madame Robert was a wonderful ally. She was going to enjoy herself, and, when Nicholas returned from his Grand Tour, he was going to find a young lady of quality and accomplishment staying with his mother. He would never call her brat again.
‘Bonjour, ma petite. ’ Madame Robert swept the curtains open with a rustle of taffeta. The sunlight streamed in across the parquet floor, striking colour from the rich Turkey rug.
‘Bonjour, madame . What time is it?’ Cassandra sat up in the big bed, hugged her knees and gazed round. She’d been too exhausted the night before to take in all the details, the magnificence of the room. Now she looked wide-eyed at the crystal chandelier, the Chinese wall-paper and the ormolu furniture.
‘Almost
Nicholas eyed her. ‘No.’
‘So I am to be a prisoner in this house, bored to tears, with no diversion…’
‘There is no alternative, unless you want me to pack you straight home again, you ungrateful br– ’ He stopped suddenly, clearly recalling the steward’s presence. ‘I shall do my best to make sure you are not bored. If I arrange a small allowance for you, you may engage a dressmaker. Tomorrow I will find you a dancing master, a French master and a drawing master. That way your days will be filled, and by the time my mother returns, you may be fit to go about with her, perhaps even attend young people’s parties.’
Cassandra felt a rush of contrition. Repeated disappointments were hitting her like blows, making her act like the girl he thought her. Nicholas was trying to do his best for her under the most difficult of circumstances. The suspicion that he would have done almost anything to get rid of her was unworthy.
‘Thank you, Nicholas, that is very kind of you,’ she said meekly.
‘That is settled, then.’ He shot her a suspicious glance, as if he had expected some resistance. ‘Go with Gaston now, he will take you to Madame Robert. And behave yourself, child.’
He kept calling her child . It galled, but it served her purpose.
The sharp-eyed Frenchwoman to whom Gaston handed her with an explanation in rapid French was not so easily fooled.
‘I thought Monsieur Gaston said you were fifteen, Mademoiselle, ’ she commented an hour later, handing Cassandra a towel as she climbed out of the bath.
‘I…’ Cassandra was within an inch of confirming the lie when she looked up and met the other woman’s beady regard. The dark eyes were not unkind, but they were shrewd. ‘I am eighteen,'’ she confessed. ‘But the Earl believes me to be younger.’
‘And you thought it wise not to set him right,’ the housekeeper said drily. ‘I see.’
‘You do, Madame ?’ Cassandra was surprised.
‘But, yes. You have to leave home – an affaire of the heart, no doubt? – the Earl is your only friend. Why embarrass him with the truth?’
Cassandra smiled to herself, but said only, ‘You speak excellent English, Madame .’
‘My late husband was a wine merchant. For many years during the war we lived in Bristol. When he died I returned to France. The English climate does not suit me.’
She bustled around gathering up the discarded male clothing. ‘When you are dressed à la jeune femme , we will engage for you a lady’s maid. Until then, we must be discreet, I will look after you.’ She held up a peignoir borrowed from the Countess’s wardrobe. ‘Put this on and I will fetch you a little supper. Tomorrow we will find you a few simple dresses. While the Earl is here, it is best you remain fifteen.’ Her lips quirked in amusement.
Cassandra relaxed, curled up in an armchair before the fire. The warmth of the day had turned to evening cool in the high-ceilinged mansion. Despite everything, she felt happiness creeping back. She was in Paris, her father would never find her here, and Madame Robert was a wonderful ally. She was going to enjoy herself, and, when Nicholas returned from his Grand Tour, he was going to find a young lady of quality and accomplishment staying with his mother. He would never call her brat again.
‘Bonjour, ma petite. ’ Madame Robert swept the curtains open with a rustle of taffeta. The sunlight streamed in across the parquet floor, striking colour from the rich Turkey rug.
‘Bonjour, madame . What time is it?’ Cassandra sat up in the big bed, hugged her knees and gazed round. She’d been too exhausted the night before to take in all the details, the magnificence of the room. Now she looked wide-eyed at the crystal chandelier, the Chinese wall-paper and the ormolu furniture.
‘Almost
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