Read A Loving Spirit Online

Authors: Amanda McCabe

A Loving Spirit (9 page)

Antoinette shook her head slowly. "Not frightening. Just—strong. We must come back here."

"Of course we will come back. On Friday. But you mustn't worry about it now. Are you feeling better?"

"Oh, yes, quite. I must have just been overwhelmed. Here, help me to stand, and we will wait for Lord Royce outside."

* * *

"How is Miss Duvall feeling, Miss Richards?"

Cassie, who was hurrying past the open door of the library with a basin of lavender water in her hands, paused to peer into the dimly lit room. Phillip came to stand in the doorway, his gray gaze inscrutable behind his spectacles.

"Much better, thank you, Lord Royce," Cassie answered, thinking how odd it was that he should care. All the men in Jamaica, and even in Bath, had seen Antoinette as nothing but a servant and an oddity. They would never have inquired after her health.

But Phillip appeared truly concerned.

"I was just taking this to her," Cassie added, holding up the basin. "Lavender water is very good for headaches."

"Does Miss Duvall care for wine?" he asked. "I have some very nice German wine put away in the cellar. I could send it up to her."

"How kind of you!" Cassie said with a smile. "So thoughtful..."

Phillip waved away her thanks with an awkward gesture. "Not at all, Miss Richards. I am only sorry that your day, and Miss Duvall's, was marred by illness."

"Yes. It was such a lovely day."

He nodded. "Lovely," he murmured. Then, looking rather abashed by that one word he had spoken, he backed up into the library. "I will send that wine up to Miss Duvall. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do."

"Thank you, Lord Royce." Cassie went on her way with her basin, thoroughly bemused by the mystifying Lord Royce. It seemed like every day she found that there was much more to him than books and studies and logic.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

"Don't they make a charming picture?" Lady Royce said, looking up from her embroidery to smile fondly across the drawing room at her son and Cassandra.

Antoinette had retired after supper with a lingering headache, but the others had gathered in the drawing room. Phillip and Cassandra were seated together at the pianoforte, attempting a duet. Unfortunately, neither of them was particularly musical, and the discordant plonking noise echoed in the large room.

Chat winced at an especially strident note, and laid down another card in her game of Patience. "Charming. But do you suppose they could engage in something
quiet,
like cards? Or reading?"

"Then we could not admire your niece's talent at the pianoforte!" Lady Royce protested. "Every young lady should play a musical instrument, do you not agree, Chat?"

"Almost every young lady," Chat murmured. She had to agree that Cassie looked very pretty bent over the ivory keys, her dark pink silk skirts spread about her. Chat only hoped that, with all the ghosts floating about the castle, Mozart did not choose to join them, full of wrath at the mangling of his concerto.

"Miss Richards is a very pretty girl indeed," Lady Royce continued. "I must confess I had no idea what to expect, since she had spent so long away from England."

Chat gave a little smile and laid down another card. "Did you think she would wear grass skirts or some such, Melinda?"

Lady Royce blushed, ducking her head over her sewing. "Of course not! I just—wasn't sure."

"Yes. Her parents were not precisely conventional, not like my older brother the viscount. I am not sure Cassandra would pass muster with the high sticklers at Almack's! But she has her own charms."

"Oh, assuredly! She is very pretty, as I said. And obviously kindhearted." Lady Royce gave Chat a sly smile. "Phillip seems to like her a great deal."

Chat looked back over at the young couple. They appeared to be quarreling over a piece of sheet music, with Cassie attempting to pull it out of his hands. "Oh, yes," she said wryly. "You can tell how much they like each other just by looking at them."

"She seems just the sort who could make him come out of his library and into the world. He never would have left his books to go on a picnic before Miss Richards came here, let alone agree to a masked ball!" Lady Royce nodded decisively. "Yes, she is
very
good for him."

But would
he
be good for
her,
Chat wondered. He did have a title and a tidy fortune. But Cassie had her own fortune and was such a free spirit. Could someone like Lord Royce make her happy?

Chat's own comfortable marriage to Lord Willowby, which had lasted twenty harmonious years before his death, made her want nothing less for her niece. A title could not make deep incompatibilities just disappear.

Still, she had to admit that they did look very handsome together.

* * *

"You are playing it all wrong!" Cassie said, taking the piece of now rather tattered music from Lord Royce's hand and putting it on the stand. "See these notes here and here? All wrong!"

"My dear Miss Richards, I am not the one who is tone-deaf," he muttered.

Cassie stared at him. "Look at the tin ear calling
me
tone-deaf! I thought earls were supposed to be gallant, or at the very least polite."

"Very well! I am very sorry, Miss Richards. Please forgive me for my rudeness. Why don't you play the solo part, and I will turn the pages?"

Cassie looked from him to the music doubtfully. The truth was, she
was
a bit tone-deaf, and had always detested the music lessons her father made her take. Only politeness to Lady Royce, who had asked her to play for them, had made her sit down at the pianoforte. She had not thought Lord Royce would join her there, and now her self-consciousness was making her rather testy.

She gave him an apologetic little smile and said, "I do not really feel like playing anymore. Perhaps
you
would favor us with a song, and I will just go and sit down by the fire for a while."

"As you wish, Miss Richards," he answered. "But I really do apologize for what I said. I am sure you are truly a masterful musician."

"Apology accepted," she said with a laugh. "But flattery denied. I am really a horrible musician."

"That cannot be true."

Oh, but it
was
true. And what was worse, Cassie found as she went to sit down beside Lady Royce, Lord Royce was quite a competent musician. Not a Mozart, by any means, but tuneful and regular. Only trying to keep up with her had made him play in the wrong key.

She had to laugh inwardly at herself, for always behaving like such a silly goose around him.

"Your aunt and I were just talking about what your life must have been like before you came to England, my dear Miss Richards," Lady Royce said. "How interesting it must have been in Jamaica! And how very different from here."

That was certainly undeniable. "It is rather different, yes."

"But you did say that your parents gave a great many entertainments. There must have been some society there."

"There were the families from the neighboring plantations, like Mr. Bates and his sister, and the Smith-Thompkins, and several people who lived in Negril. They came quite often to our house, and we went into town frequently. After Mother died, Father and I kept to ourselves more, but we still went to card parties and musicales, and even the occasional ball. No, there was no lack of society in Jamaica, Lady Royce."

"You must have had a good many suitors, too," Lady Royce said, pretending great absorption in her embroidery.

"A few," Cassie answered, thinking especially of the persistent Mr. Bates, who had come to the docks to propose one last time before she left.

He
had certainly been very different from Lord Royce, loud and boastful. He had probably never opened a book in his life.

"But you accepted none of them?" Lady Royce persisted.

"I did not care for any of them in that way."

"Oh, yes, I see." Lady Royce chuckled. "Yes, I
do
see."

Chat laughed.

Cassie wondered what they were up to, but she was just too tired to puzzle it out at present. "I think I will just go check on Antoinette before I retire, if you will excuse me."

"Oh, yes, dear, do," said Chat. "Make sure she has drunk the brandy and warm milk we sent up."

"I will. Good night, Aunt Chat, Lady Royce." Cassie kissed her aunt's cheek, and left the drawing room with the strains of Mozart floating behind her.

* * *

Antoinette was not alone in her chamber. Sitting across from her at a small table, playing what appeared to be a game of Beggar My Neighbor, was Louisa. She was wearing a cloak tonight, a puffy blue satin affair, with the hood pushed back and her golden ringlets spilling free.

"There you are," said Antoinette, studying the cards in her hand. "We've been waiting for you."

Cassie went and sat down in the empty chair at the table. "Have you? For what?"

"I thought you might like to meet Sir Belvedere tonight." Louisa laid down another card and crowed, "I win again! I suppose my card-playing skills are not so dormant as I thought."

Antoinette shook her head. "It is not fair! You have had almost two hundred years to practice."

"You've had practice, too, Antoinette," said Cassie. "We did nothing but play cards all those weeks on the ship from Jamaica. Now, tell me, is Sir Belvedere coming here to meet us?"

"Oh, no," answered Louisa. "He still thinks it is improper to come to a living lady's chamber. We will go to the East Tower."

"When? Now?"

"Of course, if you are ready." Louisa pulled her hood up over her head, and glided toward the door. "Just follow me!"

Then she disappeared through the solid door, leaving only a faint shimmer behind her.

"We can scarcely follow you that way, now, can we?" Antoinette called, standing up and reaching with her stockinged feet for the slippers she had discarded.

A merry laugh echoed, and Louisa stuck her head back through the door. "So sorry, my dears! Just a bit of ghost humor. Sometimes I simply cannot help myself."

* * *

The East Tower was dark and chilly, since the maids did not go there to light fires or adjust the draperies. Only Antoinette's and Cassie's candles cast light into the shadows of the corners.

Louisa settled herself in a chair next to the window and called out, "Sir Belvedere! Where are you? You have callers. I hope you have polished your armor up for them."

There was a faint clattering noise, which grew louder and louder as they listened. Cassie could not tell where the sound was coming from, even though she twisted her head this way and that, peering into the gloom. Then there was one last, deafening clank, and a tall figure in armor appeared next to Louisa's chair.

He pushed the visor back on his helmet, and Cassie saw that he was a rather handsome, if very pale, gentleman.

"Fair ladies!" he cried, giving them a noisy, stiff little bow. "I am honored you came all this way to make my humble acquaintance."

Cassie glanced at Antoinette, but her friend appeared to be as much at a loss as she was. What did one do with a ghost knight? Curtsy? Shake hands?

She was every bit as puzzled as she had been when she first met Louisa.

She ended up giving a small bob and saying, "How do you do? I am Miss Cassandra Richards, and this is Miss Antoinette Duvall."

"Miss Duvall is going to find Lady Lettice for us," Louisa said.

"Indeed! I have heard you have great powers, Miss Duvall," said Sir Belvedere, holding up his slipping visor to look at Antoinette. "Very great."

Antoinette demurred. "Not
very
great. Not at all like my mother. But I will help you in any way I can. And I know that we would very much like to hear
your
story, Sir Belvedere."

"Ah, my tale. 'Tis a sad one." Sir Belvedere sighed and lowered himself into the chair next to Louisa's. His legs stuck out stiffly in front of him.

Louisa twisted one of her ringlets around her finger. "It is not as sad as all that. Not nearly as sad as
my
story."

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