Page 82 of An Unwitting Alliance
Cassandra bristled. She was tired of stepping around Patricia and taking every barbed insult stoically. It was only in order to set a good example for Megan that she forced herself to look away and not engage. But that was when she noticed the missing landscape over the fireplace. The golden candlesticks were gone too. Had they been stolen? Or had they just gone quietly missing? The pieces came together, forming a bleak picture.
“Is that why you have been stealing things, Patricia?” Cassandra said. “So you might continue to have the very best of everything?”
Patricia paled as Cassandra’s words hit their mark. “Good gracious, Cassandra. What an accusation!”
Cassandra could scarcely believe it herself. “I thought your lost pearls were a cry for attention. But you were scared you would be caught for your other misdeeds, weren’t you? You tried to pass the blame to another.”
“What do you know of my pearls?Youdid not take them, did you?”
“You mean those?” Megan pointed to the floor.
Patricia glanced at her feet to see a gleaming string of pearls there. “What? Where did these come from?”
Megan shrugged. “You must have dropped them.”
“I didn’t drop them. You must’ve taken them! Mama!” Patricia called. “Mama, come quick!”
“We did not take them.” Megan’s sharp voice cut off Patricia’s bellowing. “But we did find them for you.”
Cassandra realized Megan’s strange behavior and quick thinking had saved them both from Patricia’s accusations, but only Patricia could save herself. “Patricia, the price of a theft is great indeed. It will do far more damage to your reputation than a shortage of funds. I implore you to return what was taken and beg for forgiveness.” Cassandra stood. “Megan, I believe we are finished here.”
Patricia was now as white as a sheet. “You cannot tell anyone that I was Airewell’s thief. If you do, I will... I will—”
“You are not in a position to threaten us, Patricia.” Cassandra’s ire was still fighting for precedence, but her pity for Patricia’s situation made her hesitate. “However, because of our families’ friendship over the years, I will make a deal with you. I will keep silent if you make recompense right away. And... you must convince your uncle Mr. Bartholomew to make needed improvements to the workhouse in town. I have it on good authority that there will be an acquisition there soon, and your uncle’s influence and money can help a great deal of people if applied to the right side.”
Patricia clambered to her feet, her hands reaching to stop Cassandra. “You ask a great deal. You cannot possibly understand.”
“Can’t I?” The desperation in Patricia’s eyes reminded Cassandra of herself. She gave Patricia a weary smile. “You love to remind me of my financial disadvantage, but hard times fall on us all through one event or another. In my family’s case, we dealt with them very differently. My parents chose to retrench and accept the reproach of our neighbors. It was hard coming home to fewer staff, but my parents bore their struggles with grace. I admire them now more than ever.
“I do understand, Patricia. The expectation to marry well has been ingrained in us for as long as I can remember. But you do not need to throw an expensive ball, which likely costs your parents dearly, or steal or lie to find a husband. There is more to you than money.” Cassandra’s heart tugged inside of her, and she added quietly, “The right gentleman will see that.”
She stepped back, feeling freer by the second. For the first time in years, she felt compassion toward her friend instead of resentment.
Patricia’s eyes welled up with tears, and they overflowed down her cheeks. “I hate you, Cassandra Vail.”
“I know,” Cassandra whispered. No longer did she see a perfect woman in front of her, but a broken one in need of help. “Fix this, Patricia. You will never do it for me, but you must do it for yourself.”
Megan tugged on Cassandra’s arm, and this time Cassandra heeded her.
“Wait!” Patricia chased after them. “I will do as you say, but I must know one thing. Is it true your family has inherited money?”
Cassandra glanced at her sister, Megan’s disbelief likely mirroring her own. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”
“Mr. Gibbons spoke to your father in London, or did he not tell you?”
“He... he did.” Once again, in a rush, the circumstances came together with a clear explanation. So that was why Mr. Gibbons had returned for her. He had heard of their inheritance.
Patricia stared at the Axminster carpet beneath their feet. “Then, you know why I put the necklace in your reticule. You must be quite pleased with yourself, having everything I want.”
Tom’s words about Patricia’s jealousy came back to her, at last ringing true. “No one can have everything.” Cassandra had fought just as fiercely for what she wanted in life. In the process, she had pushed away the very best thing for her—Tom. “You might be surprised and realize, when all is said and done, that you already had everything you needed to be satisfied.” Cassandra curled her arm protectively around her sister, and they left Patricia behind in the drawing room. They entered the vestibule at the same time Mrs. Pollard came down the stairs.
“Are you leaving already?” Mrs. Pollard asked. “I thought I heard Patricia calling.”
“Yes, she was so thrilled when she discovered her missing pearls,” Megan said quickly. “They were just under the chair.”
Mrs. Pollard put her hand to her chest. “You don’t say! What a miracle.” She hurried into the sitting room while Cassandra and Megan let themselves out.
Megan waited until they were some feet from the house before speaking again. “You were right to turn down Mr. Gibbons.”
