“I might be able to help on that count. A grin spread across Betsy’s face and she motioned toward a candle. “Take up that light and come with me.”
Cassandra did as bid, grabbed the candle, and followed Betsy up the stairs. It was the first time she’d been upstairs in the boardinghouse, or anywhere near the main bedchambers, for that matter. She paused as Betsy opened the door and went in.
This room was much nicer than her little space off the kitchen. The ceilings were not tall, but there were two spacious windows that overlooked the high street. Two beds stood centered in the room, along with a compact dressing table and chair. A single wardrobe stood in the corner, and a chest was at the foot of each bed. A fire grate was at the far end, and embers glowed softly.
Betsy knelt on the wooden floor next to the trunk, pushed a long tawny lock away from her face, and set the candle next to her. She lifted the lid, rummaged inside, and then pulled out two gowns. She stood and laid a gown of ivory brocade with gilt threads embellishing the bodice on the bed, and then she shook out the folds of a deep rose silk adorned with Mechlin lace and with white flowers embroidered on the sleeves and in the folds of the shimmering fabric.
“Why, those are beautiful!” Cassandra exclaimed. “Where on earth did you get them?”
“They’re mine, of course.” Betsy beamed with pride. “I haven’t always lived in a boardinghouse, you know. One of these should do for the dinner, I should think.”
“Oh no, no.” Cassandra shook her head. “I couldn’t ask that.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. Besides, these gowns haven’tseen the light of day in well over two years.” Betsy extended one to her. “Someone might as well get to use them.”
Cassandra took the soft fabric in her hands. “But why don’t you wear them?”
Betsy shrugged and rubbed her finger along the ivory gown’s delicate lace adornment. “They are far too fine for me to wear. Moreover, the other girls would think I was putting on airs.”
As if interpreting the questions on Cassandra’s face, Betsy motioned for her to sit next to her on the bed. “When I was young, my father was a merchant. Had a proper shop on the high street in the town we lived in, and there was no shortage of fabrics and bows and fripperies and bobs. In those days I only sewed for fun and to pass the time. But when my father died, everything changed.”
“Oh.” Cassandra realized how little she knew about this woman who was quickly becoming a friend. “I didn’t realize.”
“He had debts. I suppose most men do. When he died, everything was sold to cover them. My sister and I had to make a living the only way we knew how—sewing. She was lucky enough to marry soon after his death, but I, well, let’s just say I didn’t quite catch anyone’s eye.”
“That isn’t to say you won’t,” Cassandra offered, sensing her friend’s disappointment. “He could be the very next person you meet!”
Betsy laughed dismissively before she took the gown from Cassandra and waited for her to stand up. “Here, let’s see. If I am to take it in before the dinner, it must be fitted. We’re about the same height, but I am a bit plumper. It shouldn’t need much alteration.”
Energized by her friend’s enthusiasm, Cassandra stood. “I wish you had an invitation. I hate the thought of attending alone.”
“Alone? No, no. Mr. North will be there with you. And Mrs. Martin, of course,” Betsy goaded, retrieving a measuring tape from the chest. “You know, Mrs. Martin has had her eye set on Mr. North since the day he arrived. She flirts shamelessly. Imagine, a woman ofher age. He’s so much younger than she is. It never would be. Besides, like I said, his sights are clearly set on you.”
Cassandra pivoted to allow Betsy to take her measurements.
Betsy paused in her task. “While we are speaking about Mr. North, I hope I can say something to you as a friend and you will not be offended.”
Cassandra’s mood shifted as Betsy’s countenance sobered. “Of course. Say whatever you wish.”
“I know I tease you about him, but I do realize that Mr. North is very charming and handsome, and as much as I would love to see you happy and settled and wed with a dozen babies around you, I feel I must say something by way of caution.”
Cassandra swallowed nervously. “Go on.”
“Mr. North might be a vicar. And he is probably a very good man. But people do talk.”
Cassandra remained very still, preparing her mind for whatever would pass her friend’s lips.
“He has a certain reputation. While he is a friendly man, he’s a guarded man. I have friends, male friends, who have been in his presence at certain events. It’s said he has a darker side to him.”
Cassandra struggled to understand exactly what Betsy attempted to convey. “Do you mean with women?”
Betsy leaned closer, her fair brows furrowed. “Not so much about women, but he’s rumored to be greedy. He gambles a great deal, not around here, of course. I don’t know details, but I think you should be fully aware of what is being said about him. Just take heed.”
“If greed is his fault, what interest would he have in me?” She could almost laugh at the very suggestion. “I have nothing to speak of.”
But then it struck her. She might be inheriting land.
Surely that had nothing to do with it. She had only just learned of it, and his interest in her had been evident since her arrival.
