Page 55 of An Unwitting Alliance
“We can help you search,” Miss Grover offered.
“Yes!” Patricia said quickly. “We were giving Mr. Gibbons a walking tour of the town, and I had to show him the workhouse since my uncle, Mr. Bartholomew, is the rector who oversees the financing here.” She paused for dramatic effect as she let her connections sink in. “But we are practically finished, and it would be no inconvenience at all to assist in the search.”
Tom looked back at the workhouse. “Your uncle is the rector?”
Patricia nodded. “Perhaps you have heard of him?”
“No, but I should like to meet a man who has organized such a charitable organization.”
Patricia’s mouth turned down into a pretty frown. “Unfortunately, he intends to stay in London until Christmas.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You see Tiger?” Cassandra inserted. “Where?” She stood on her toes and pretended to scour the vicinity.
“Forgive me, Miss Vail.” Tom shook his head. “I am afraid I no longer see any sign of your elusive cat.” He bent over and searched the small spaces between their feet. Naturally, no cat magically appeared.
If the situation were not so delicate, Cassandra might have laughed.
Tom straightened suddenly. “Miss Vail, won’t your aunt be worried for you? We have tarried too long. We should return you to her at once and tell her the sorry news.”
“You are right. She is just up the road near the emporium.” Cassandra pointed in the direction of the shops. “You will excuse me?”
“I insist on accompanying you,” Tom said. “I do believe I was the last to see Tiger, and I will tell your aunt the exact place we crossed paths.” He extended his arm, and Cassandra eagerly took it.
Patricia looked disappointed, which was perfectly all right with Cassandra. But her joy at escaping fell short as Mr. Gibbons stepped in front of her.
His smile was for her alone. “I hope we meet again soon, Miss Vail.”
What was she to say? “That would be... nice.”
His smile grew. Had her stammered words brought him hope? “Will you be at the Pollards’ ball on Saturday?”
Cassandra’s heart raced. “Indeed, we would not miss it.”
“I hope you will save me a dance, then.”
Tom tugged her around Mr. Gibbons, saving her from answering.
“Good day,” she said with a curtsy to the group at large, casting one last anxious glance at Mr. Gibbons.
Tom dipped his head and said over his shoulder, “Do let us know if you see any sign of Tiger. Any at all.”
It was not until they were a safe distance away from the others that he ceased his exaggerated efforts to search in every direction and Cassandra finally relaxed a little.
“Mr. Gibbons has finally come for you,” Tom said.
Cassandra tensed again at the mention of Mr. Gibbons’s name. She glanced up at Tom, her eyes catching on his mouth. Had she no shame? She tore her disobedient gaze away. “Mr. Gibbons’s business is his own.”
“Until he makes it yours.”
Was Tom angry or relieved? She could not tell. But nor did she want to think about Mr. Gibbons or his meaningful looks. It was best to change the subject. “What did you make of Miss Pollard?” She squeezed her eyes shut in a long blink, wishing she had thought of any other topic of conversation.
“Your nemesis?” He sent her a sidelong glance.
Cassandra nodded slowly. “It is a shame her uncle is out of town and cannot use his influence to help you with Longbottom.”
“I shall see if I can obtain an address and write to him.”
