He needed to find her to make certain that all was well. He did not care that Antonia was just about to walk down the aisle. Samantha was missing.
Cassian turned and started to rise from his seat when Samantha slipped in and quickly found a chair in the back row on the opposite side of the aisle. He would have gone to her except the seat beside her was not empty so he sat back fully in his and then studied her.
She was, of course, beautiful as always, though a bit pale.
More than a bit. There was no color in her cheeks.
She slowly glanced around the room and when she saw him, he was certain she suffered an intake of breath before she quickly looked away and nearly turned green.
She was ill!
If she felt so poorly, then she should be in her bed, not attending a wedding.
He was just about to go and insist that she retire when Antonia entered and started down the aisle to Chedworth.
He glanced back at Samantha again, but she was watching Antonia meet Chedworth in front of the vicar. There was a sadness about her. Or maybe she was tired. The greenish tint was gone and maybe that had only been the lighting. Regardless, Samantha was pale and he was concerned.
He returned his focus to the couple reciting their vows, which was thankfully a short ceremony, and then the two kissed. He was surprised Chedworth didn’t haul his wife out of the drawing room right then and there, but at least he showed some restraint.
As others gathered to congratulate the couple, surrounding them as they retreated down the aisle, Cassian tried to reach Samantha instead, but by the time he was where she had been seated, she had gone.
Maybe she had returned to her chamber upstairs, and if that were the case, he would speak with her tomorrow. Or maybe she had gone on ahead to the terrace where tables had been arranged under the moonlight and delicacies set out to enjoy while more wine and champagne flowed.
He would find her and they would speak.
First, he would determine if she truly was ill and second, how much she recalled from the night before and if he needed to explain.
Samantha spent the wedding celebration avoiding Cassian. Her stomach had revolted with humiliation when she first saw him. She then made certain not to remain in one place for long. Whenever he saw her on the terrace and took a step in her direction, she retreated.
She could not have a conversation with him. She did not want to hear excuses for his rejection of her last night or to hear that he liked her very much but only saw her as a friend, or worse, a sister. For to hear those words from his lips would surely break her heart.
Maybe she could claim that she had no recollection of even talking to him.
If she thought that she had any chance of him believing her, Samantha would attempt such a deception, but she did not know how to lie and wasn’t even certain she could pretend enough that he would believe her to be ignorant of the events.
One thing was for certain, avoiding him was tiring and he eventually gave up when he turned and looked at her, sadness in his eyes, then he shook his head and turned around.
Why should he be sad. She was the one who had asked for a kiss and he had rejected her.
Eventually, she could not remain any longer and pretend happiness when talking with her friends and as the bride and groom had disappeared, Samantha thought it safe to do so as well. There was only one thing that she must do and then she could go above stairs, finish her packing and be prepared to leave in the morning where she hoped to forget the humiliation suffered while at Nightshade Manor.
After retrieving the amethyst and the black tourmaline from the dresser in her chamber, she returned to the main floor, then took the stairs down to the cellar, passing the magical vault until she came to the cupboard that held the crystals.
She was about to open it when she heard the music again.
This was the third time and she needed to know from where it was coming. The notes were almost haunting, a sadness. Was someone playing in the music room? She stood and listened, then followed and if she were correct, she was walking the corridor directly beneath the music room, which meant that the music might be filtering down to her. Maybe there was a vent of some kind.
She supposed that she could go up and see, but it would be just as easy to find the source so that she would know for certain.
As she walked farther, past the corridor that led to cells from an earlier time in history, light began to flicker from a room beyond.
Maybe it was coming from the servants.
Some did have their chambers below stairs or in a separate addition to the house. She had been told they had their own drawing room, parlor and a place to relax when they were not at their duties. Maybe they were playing the music since most were not needed with the wedding celebration coming to an end.
For a moment she hesitated because she did not want to disturb them during their free time, but she needed to know who was playing such a mournful song. It spoke of pain, sadness and loneliness, calling out to her and she wanted to give comfort to whoever was playing. As she neared the door, the music quieted, but that did not keep Samantha from entering the room that was brightly lit with candles, walls lined with bookshelves, settees of red velvet, mahogany tables, chairs with gold upholstery, and a candelabra casting light and shadow on a dark wooden floor.
“Is anyone here?”
