A Blessing
“Lady Darkford, would you take it amiss if I did some searches in the cupboards in the study and library for any additional papers like you discovered?” Mr. Liddle asked.
“Not at all, please do. After discovering those property sales papers and items relating to Baydon Imports, I am curious as to what else might be found.” She pulled the key off her chatelaine and handed it to him.
“Thank you. I will get on that, then,” he said, bowing, then striding out of the room.
“I am off to the ramparts to play my violin,” Gwinnie announced, bouncing out of her chair and grabbing her violin case from where she’d left it on the sideboard.
“I’ll join you up there if you don’t mind. Your music is soothing,” Ann said.
“Not at all! I always like an audience. It improves my playing,” Gwinnie said with a grin.
“I’ll come with you,” Ellinbourne said. “I have done no sketches from up there.”
“Yes!” Ann said. “Excellent idea. Ursula, will you join us?”
“No, you know I do not do well with heights,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll see if I can assist Mr. Liddle in his search.”
“Lord Lakehurst, might I borrow your novel? I should like to read the infamous chapter that Lady Darkford likened to her experience.” Mr. Stillworth said.
“Yes. I have a copy in my room. I’ll get it for you,” he said, rising.
“I’ll come with you and take it to my room to read until dinner,” he said, following Lord Lakehurst from the room.
Cassie looked around the suddenly empty room. What should she do? What did she want to do?
She sighed. Nothing. She didn’t want to do anything. She kept seeing Carlyle sprawled on the narrow ledge down thirty feet from the top of the cliff path. She felt guilt for Carlyle’s death. If she hadn’t returned to Baydon Castle, he wouldn’t be dead.
That pain would remain in her heart forever, this she knew. But Baydon Castle also did not deserve to die, and it was surely dying. Already the closing of a mine and the letting go of staff there and at the castle had affected lives and livelihoods.
Where did she stand in all of this? Where should she stand?
She’d never liked Baydon Castle. Its remoteness had isolated her. It hadn’t helped that Richard had remained coolly nice.
Nice. What a word. There was no love, no affection from her husband; however, he wasniceto her to the extent he was able. He did not take her to London or Bath or any other location where she might mingle with other people other than an occasional trip to Wells to see the Loftbridges. He had his friends come to Baydon; however, he’d instructed her not to mingle with his guests.
Sometime between her marriage to the Marquess of Darkford and now she’d become a veritable wraith, a shade that floated through life, a remnant of the past.
She frowned. She did not see how Lord Lakehurst could believe he loved her. There was nothing here to love but a ghost.
She closed her eyes and laughed at herself. She was becoming maudlin and ridiculous, and the absurdity of her emotions penetrated her thoughts. A slight smile pulled at the corner of her lips. It was time for self-pity to be left behind and time to step into the future.
From the ramparts, she could hear Gwinnie playing a stirring piece full of action and emotion. Vivaldi?
A maid entered to remove the tea things. “Beg pardon, my lady,” the maid said, curtsying when she saw Cassie on the couch. “I didn’t think anyone was still in here.”
“It’s quite all right,” Cassie told her. She leaned her head back against the sofa and relaxed.
Lakehurst entered while the maid was finishing up.
“That is how I like to see you,” he said, “relaxed and smiling.”
“I was considering what a goose I’ve been,” Cassie said, straightening and removing her feet from the sofa.
“Goose?” he said, coming to sit beside her.
“I have been indulging in self-pity for months—nay years!” she said.
