Page 29 of An Unwitting Alliance
“Come, Mr. Harwood. I shall find something for you in the larder.”
He nodded reluctantly. Following Mrs. Buttars into the larder, he watched as she unwrapped some cheese and pulled out the bread from the bread box. It smelled normal. What was the likelihood that ittastednormal?
She set a portion of each on a plate. “Would you like me to carry this upstairs for you?”
“Nonsense. I can eat it at the servants’ table. It is but a snack.” He looked down at the food, knowing he would need a drink to gag it down.
Mr. Buttars excused himself to see to a task upstairs, and Mrs. Buttars moved to leave.
“Wait,” Tom said, remembering his mission. “Might I ask a favor of you?”
“You know you can ask for anything, Mr. Harwood. We are all happy to help.”
Tom took a tentative bite of the bread and paused. It was good. Very good. He chewed and swallowed before hungrily taking another bite. A smile lit his face, whether from the first decent bit of food in days or from Mrs. Buttars’s eagerness to help him with his lark.
* * *
Cassandra’s eyes drooped as Michael conjugated his list of Latin verbs. She propped her head on her hand and leaned into it. Most of the time, teaching brought her a sense of satisfaction, but the stormy weather outside the window had affected her ability to pay attention. When the rain finally stopped, her longing to be anywhere but in the schoolroom only increased. But she was safe here—safe from her betrothed. Out there, she might have to obey her mother and actually entertain Mr. Harwood.
She frowned at the uncomfortable thought. Couldn’t she have gone to town with Peter and Papa? Even Megan’s job of helping Nancy with the girls sounded more exciting than the slow drone of Latin verbs. But she knew as soon as she left the schoolroom, Mama would cease mending clothes with their maid, Gwen, upstairs and pounce on her. Was there ever a mother more relentless?
Tiger slept peacefully on her lap, and Cassandra longed to join him in his slumber. She cast her tired eyes to Robert and discovered him drawing on his paper instead of finishing his arithmetic. For once, she let him dally with his work. She was thoroughly bored, so she could understand her youngest brother completely.
A knock sounded on the schoolroom door, and Mr. Harwood stuck his head inside. Cassandra instantly straightened and lifted Tiger long enough to smooth her dress. Had she mussed her hair with her fingers or made a red print on her cheek from the pressure of her hand? Why was she so flustered? It was just Mr. Harwood with his usual silly grin.
“How is school today?” He slid halfway through the door, waiting for an invitation to come in all the way.
School was terrible, but she was not about to admit it. “You are interrupting.”
“It’s a talent of mine. I am so glad you recognized it.” Mr. Harwood eyed Robert’s drawing of a fox throwing fire from his paws. “I see you have been working tirelessly in here.”
“Yes, well, I believe art is an important study. Do you not?”
“Do you want to know what I believe?”
Not really, but she was certain he would tell her.
“I believe you all deserve a break.”
A break. The word sounded like heaven. But only she was allowed to call for one. A small sigh escaped. “We will push through, thank you.” Her words were lost amid Michael and Robert’s cheers.
Mr. Harwood took their celebratory cries as a summons to enter, and he did so quickly, carrying with him a plate of goodies in one hand and something frilly in the other.
Robert jumped from his seat, and Mr. Harwood relinquished the plate to him. Michael and Robert began arguing over who would get the biggest slice of cake. Mr. Harwood seemed oblivious to the argument and motioned Cassandra to the sofa under the windows. Suspicion led her to her feet, and she carried Tiger over to where Mr. Harwood had just taken a seat. She sat on the edge of a cushion nearly a foot away from him.
“There is something about you that makes me nervous, Mr. Harwood.” Her eyes flitted from his amused expression to whatever was in his hands.
“I cannot help the palpitations in your heart my presence brings.” He shrugged helplessly, as if he would remedy the situation if he could.
She gave him her most bored stare, which was not hard to reproduce after conjugating Latin verbs. “More like a fit of vapors.”
“Nonsense. You could not be brought so low. You saw me at breakfast. How could you miss me already?” He tsked his tongue.
With a swift movement, she brought herself directly beside him. “Mr. Harwood!” she hissed. “The boys can hear you.”
The thought only seemed to make the man happier. “Surely they know exactly how youreallyfeel, what with your declaration of spinsterhood.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling and whispered a plea for her sanity.
