Page 45 of An Unwitting Alliance
By dawn Tom had left for Leeds, taking with him his cheery nature, and Papa and Peter were well on their way to London. Not coincidentally, all through Cassandra’s lessons with Michael and Robert, a dreary cloud remained settled over her.
In an attempt to distract herself, she listed her blessings. Mama and the baby were well. She was not scheming up more ways for Cassandra and Tom to fall in love. Beyond that, Mama had not remembered Patricia Pollard’s sewing meeting that morning, and neither Cassandra nor Megan cared to remind her.
The thought of Patricia promptly ended her gratitude list. There would be no avoiding her for long. The ball at the Pollards’ was on Saturday. Mama had requested the invitation be extended to their guest, as expected. It also meant news would soon circulate about Tom, and no doubt rumors would follow. The banns might have been postponed, but their engagement was still very real. Cassandra was tempted to ask him to stay behind again, but she would not be so rude twice. At least her parents would not be in attendance to make any announcements.
When Cassandra dressed for dinner, she was surprised how much she was anticipating seeing Tom. She was sure it was because the day had been quite dull. Even if they would only argue the entire evening, he was still entertaining. Besides, she was anxious to learn about his trip to the workhouse. Had he discovered anything relevant to his reform plans?
After her hair was pinned up, she studied herself in the mirror. Not satisfied, she leaned forward and pinched her cheeks for a bit of color. She froze in the process. She wanted Tom to think her pretty. What had come over her? Increasing thoughts of him had filled her head throughout the day. Was she falling in love with him? The man she was supposed to marry?
She pulled back and sighed. If she did not think too much on it, perhaps the feelings would fade. Megan pulled her toward the door, complaining how desperately hungry she was. To Cassandra’s disappointment, Tom was not waiting in the dining room with Michael and Robert. She glanced at the small timepiece on the mantel at the end of the narrow room. They were a few minutes late, which meant Tom might not have returned from Leeds yet.
“Aunt Evans is taking a tray with Mama,” Michael said.
“Good. Mama needs the distraction.” Cassandra ruffled his combed hair in greeting as she sat down. Mama would have complained, but Cassandra needed an air of lightness and sensed the boys did too.
Sure enough, as soon as they sat down, Robert said, “I miss Peter.”
“I know.” Cassandra gave him an encouraging smile. How could she cheer them up? What would Tom do? She thought of the story he had told the girls about rescuing the cats and began relaying it to her brothers. She exaggerated at all the same parts, though she could not bring herself to do his voices. Of course, she had fallen asleep partway through, so the ending was a bit rough.
When she finished, Michael shook his head. “If Tom would have told it, it might have been funny.”
Cassandra sighed and turned her attention to her dinner.
After they ate, they moved into the drawing room, where each of them slumped in their seats.
“I miss Mama’s music,” Robert said, leaning against Cassandra. “No one plays like she does.”
“We all miss it.” Cassandra had been impatient with him all weekend, but all she wanted to do now was comfort him. She stretched her arm around him and squeezed him close. “Mama will be well soon enough. There will be many nights of music in the future and a sweet baby to hold too.”
Despite her efforts, a somber quiet encircled their depressed spirits. She was just about to shoo the boys off to bed when a commotion started in the vestibule.
“Is someone here?” Michael turned in his seat and stared at the door.
Cassandra leaned her head toward the door to listen.
“It’s just Mr. Buttars,” Robert assured them.
The drawing room door swung open, causing them all to jump.
A bearded man came into the room wearing a scarf and a monocle on a chain around his neck, his hat pulled low. “Good evening, Vailfamiglia.” The stranger’s Italian accent boomed through the room. “I traveled far and wide to charm you with my presence tonight.” He swung his arm in front of him and performed an elaborate bow.
“Who are you?” Robert clamored to his feet.
Cassandra grabbed his wrist protectively. She wanted to know the same thing, but no one was taking a step closer to their intruder. She was prepared to scream for Mr. Buttars if this Italian man did not explain himself.
“Who, me?” The man pointed to his beard. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Robert shook his head without a thought, but the question startled Cassandra. It was so familiar. Not the accent, but the tone and the words. And then she remembered Tom asking something similar at the ball.
Tom?
She stared at the Italian man and nearly laughed. It was Tom!
“Mr. Roberto, I am a performer extraodinaire, here to make your nightfantastico.” Tom dipped into a second extravagant bow, with an added arm flourish.
Now that she was no longer scared for their lives, Cassandra dearly wanted to see this performance. Just having Tom home at all made her feel infinitely lighter than she had felt only minutes before. “We are in need of entertainment. Do you dance, good sir?”
Megan elbowed her and whispered in her ear. “You cannot be serious! Do you even know this man?”
