The butler hesitated, which meant there was indeed more. George had not wanted for there to be more, but he supposed it at least meant he had another clue.
“I did observe Lady Cassandra near the stables earlier this morning.”
“Near,” he repeated.
“Yes, Your Grace. She was returning toward the east path. Alone.”
Of course she was. A hundred responses suggested themselves. He dismissed them all and focused on the practical.
“Have the grooms been informed?”
“They are saddling those they have found.”
“Good.”
George moved toward the door.
“Ensure no one speaks of this beyond necessity.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As he strode down the corridor, irritation sharpened into something more focused. This was not impulsive mischief. The timing was deliberate. Releasing his horses was not merely a childish act. It was a statement.
And Cassandra Burrow was the only guest in the house with both the motive and the audacity. He descended the steps two at a time, and he knew that if she had intended to provoke him, she had succeeded. What unsettled him most was not the disruption,nor even the damage to order. It was the fact that, somewhere beneath the irritation, a darker realization had begun to form.
She was no longer merely reacting to his control.
She was testing it.
Cassandra had risen before the house fully stirred.
The morning air was cool, sharp enough to clear her thoughts, and she welcomed it. Sleep had come in restless fragments, her mind circling the same arguments, the same injustices, until remaining still had become impossible. She had dressed simply, hair pinned with little care, and slipped into the gardens in search of solitude.
She did not find it.
“Cassandra?”
The voice stopped her short. She turned to see someone she had been longing for, and suddenly her restless night was of little consequence.
“Anthea?”
Anthea stood a few steps away, a shawl drawn close around her shoulders. For a moment, Cassandra could only stare. Then she crossed the distance between them in three quick steps and seized her friend’s hands.
“What are you doing here?” Cassandra asked, scarcely able to keep her voice steady. “I did not know you were invited.”
“I was not certain that I could come,” Anthea said, smiling faintly. “At least, not at first, but I suspected you would need me.”
Cassandra felt a sharp, unexpected sting behind her eyes.
“I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you,” she said. “I thought I would have to endure this alone.”
“You never do,” Anthea replied simply.
They began to walk, slowly, along the path that bordered the paddocks. Cassandra glanced instinctively toward the stables, then away again.
“I am going to sabotage the wedding,” Cassandra said, the words tumbling out before she could soften them.
Anthea did not stop walking. Cassandra did not doubt that her friend expected it.
