Page 61 of Impetuous

“Hardly a strange thing to do when you refuse to tell me why you dragged me out of the library or where we are going, or, indeed, anything.”

One of the grooms was leading a horse and light trap out of the stable yard, and Philip handed her up into it, then climbed in and took the reins. They started off at a brisk pace. Cassandra grabbed the seat to keep from sliding into Philip as they turned smartly out of the yard.

“I haven’t even a hat and gloves!” she protested. “I cannot call on anyone like this. Why, my dress isn’t fit to go calling in.”

“Don’t worry. They are very informal there. No one will care.”

“I will.” Cassandra grimaced in exasperation. “If that isn’t like a man. You say no one will care, but everyone will think I am utterly without manners.”

“Not where we are going. If they do, you have my permission to tell one and all that I abducted you and would not allow you to wear either hat or gloves.”

Cassandra smiled reluctantly. “I shall.”

She could get nothing else out of him, and it was too pleasant to be out driving with him through the sparkling summer day for her to brood about it. Even with the current stiffness between them, Cassandra could not help but enjoy being beside Philip—the warmth and strength of his body only inches from her on the seat, the sun lighting the planes and angles of his face and turning his brown eyes the color of whiskey. She wished it didn’t feel so good to look at him. It simply made it hurt all the more to think of his turning his looks and charm on all those other girls, those unfortunate mothers of his children.

The trip was short, as he had promised. Before long they were turning into a driveway leading up to a warm redbrick house. A stand of silver beeches shaded it on one side, and as they drove up, a group of boys came tearing around the corner in hot pursuit of another boy. All of them skidded to a halt at the sight of Cassandra and Philip. They waved enthusiastically, jumping up and down.

Cassandra’s stomach began to churn. “Where are we? Is this Silverwood?”

“Yes.” He pulled back on the reins, stopping the horse, and looked down at her. “Will it taint you to visit them?”

Cassandra’s cheeks flushed with anger. For an answer, she whipped around and climbed out of the trap without waiting for his assistance.

“Philip! Philip!” cried the smallest of the boys, running around the vehicle and throwing himself against Philip’s leg as soon as he stepped out. He wrapped his arms tightly around Philip’s legs, and Philip had to unwind him, chuckling.

“Harry…Harry. You will topple me over.”

The other four boys had come to a halt and were gazing at Cassandra with interest. One of the boys, she saw, had a withered arm. Another’s face was marred by a large reddish stain over one cheek. The oldest one, though not large, looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, the others ranged in age down to the smallest one who had wrapped himself around Philip. Sixteen, Cassandra thought, astonished. Philip had obviously started when he was young. She did not think that he could be more than thirty-four now.

Philip came around the end of the trap, leading his small admirer by the hand. “Good morning, boys.”

“Good morning, Sir Philip.” They came eagerly forward, though with less exuberance than Harry.

“I want you to meet someone.” He introduced the young men to Cassandra, and they answered politely, bowing.

They moved inside, the boys following them, and just as they stepped into the entryway, Sarah Yorke swept out of a room down the hall and advanced toward them, patting nervously at her hair and smoothing down her skirts.

“Sir Philip! What a pleasant surprise. And Miss Verrere.”

“Miss Yorke.”

“I thought I would bring Miss Verrere to see your excellent work, Sarah.”

“I am sorry if we are intruding,” Cassandra added hastily.

“Heavens, no, Sir Philip is always welcome here. This is, after all, his home.”

“Why don’t you show Miss Verrere around, Sarah? Explain everything to her. I apparently promised the boys last time that I would play cricket with them next time I came.

“Of course.” Miss Yorke smiled shyly at him. “Please, go on. They will love it, I am sure.”

She ushered Cassandra into the first room, where three boys of varying ages were working at their books. Two of them jumped to their feet politely when she came in. The third stayed in his chair; Cassandra saw that his legs were both missing from the middle of the thighs down.

“We are working on math in this room,” Sarah explained. “Boys, Sir Philip is here and is getting up a game of cricket. You may go if you like.”

Two of them pelted out. Only the crippled boy remained.

“Wouldn’t you like to go outside to watch, Dennis?” Miss Yorke asked.