Yes, he knew her mother’s name, but he did not know her whereabouts.
Yes, she had a brother—one living relative.
This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Answers. Names. Details.
Then why did her heart still ache?
She expelled a shuddery breath and leaned her head back on the seat. After all the time she’d spent thinking about this very moment, she’d not been prepared for the discomforting feelings that accompanied it.
The carriage wheel hit a rut, lurching Cassandra forward. She cried out and caught herself with her hands on the opposite bench.
There had been no one to catch her or prevent her from falling. No one to witness her awkward attempt to right herself.
She was alone.
Completely alone.
She scrambled back to her seat and bit her lip, fighting back tears.
Yes, they were answers, but oh, how they pushed so many other questions to the forefront.
And more waiting for even more answers that may or may not come.
She tried to encourage herself. After all, Mr. Longham had mentioned an inheritance—land. An income was associated with it, but he’d also said her half brother would likely contest it. She was certainly not versed in matters of the law and wills, but she’d heard stories. It could be years.
That was why it was just as important as ever that she find a way to support herself. If she’d had even a glimmer of hope that Mr. Warrington would consider her as a governess for his daughters, it now dimmed. He knew she was illegitimate, which would almost certainly disqualify her from such a close role to his children.
The carriage slowed to a stop as it arrived at the boardinghouse. Firelight gleamed from inside the front windows, but it was hardly a warm, welcoming home.
For what was home now?
Chapter 19
Determined to keep her hands busy and her heart calm in light of Mr. Longham’s revelations, Cassandra rose early the next morning and planned a day of tasks. Once the other boarders departed for their occupations, Cassandra had the large copper tub brought to her chamber and a hot bath poured, and then she washed her hair. She cleaned her gowns, cloak, and pelisse as best she could. She organized her belongings. She did whatever she could think of to prevent her mind from wandering back to Briarton Park.
How she wished she would receive word from Mr. Longham. He’d said it would be days before she received any letter from him or his office, yet she yearned for any new bit of information. But even as life-changing news dominated her thoughts, another topic battled for her attention: Mr. Warrington.
She was not an overly romantic woman. Frederick had crushed any such inclinations. But the expression in Mr. Warrington’s eyes had caught her unaware. Perhaps it was that he did not jump to a conclusion or project a judgment. Nor did he dismiss her as insignificant. He’d been concerned. Kind. She had wanted to lean into it. Find solace in the warmth and gentleness.
She sniffed and straightened her brush and comb atop the small bedside table. She knew the danger to which that feeling could lead.
After all, Frederick had been gentle and kind too.
Later in the morning, as she sat next to the fire in the kitchen brushing her still-damp hair, Mrs. Martin swept in. As usual, the older woman’s hair was tidy and neat and her gown of crimson muslin was freshly pressed, but her expression revealed her annoyance. “You’ve a gentleman caller in the parlor. I’ve told you before that I don’t approve of gentlemen callers.”
Cassandra whirled. “For me?”
“Yes, for you,” Mrs. Martin snipped as she fussed with her lacy fichu. “Who else?”
Cassandra stood quickly. Her first fanciful thought was that Mr. Warrington would check on her. Or perhaps it was Mr. Longham with some sort of news.
As if reading her thoughts, Mrs. Martin interjected, “You’re fortunate it’s Mr. North. I would have sent any other gentleman on his way. You’d best tend to your hair. You can’t meet someone like him in such a disheveled state.”
Cassandra tightened her grip on her hairbrush. Of course it was Mr. North. He was the most logical person.
Yet why did her heart fall a little at the mention?
She ignored the woman’s insult of her hair and nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Martin. I will be out presently.”
