Page 90 of An Unwitting Alliance
“Tom!” Papa cheered. “Good to see you again.”
Tom’s smile was small—forced, even. What had changed? “Mr. Vail,” he said, dipping his head.
Cassandra rounded the corner, and Papa came into view. Her confusion over Tom’s behavior was replaced with utter relief to see her father again. “Papa!” she cried. With one arm she hugged him close. “You are just in time. Meet your new daughter.” Cassandra handed him his child.
Megan flew out of Mama’s room. “Papa?”
“I’m here, sweeting. I’m home now.” His arms curled around the small bundle. “When did this miracle happen?”
Cassandra smiled, despite the worry nagging in the back of her mind about Tom. “Just now. Your timing is perfect.”
“Just now?” Disbelief stole over Papa, and he darted past them into his bedchamber. “Darling?”
Mama called from her bed, “All is well, dearest. All is well.”
Several long strides later, and Papa was beside his wife. He kissed her head and fell to his knees beside the bed. He held Mama’s hand, and together they cooed over the baby. Cassandra leaned against the door, savoring the joyful scene.
“We traveled through the night both ways, eager to make the trip as short as possible,” Papa said. “I wish I could have been with you every minute.”
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Mama brought his hand to her mouth.
Peter came to stand next to Cassandra, and she pulled him into a side hug. He seemed older somehow. Seeing a new corner of the world had matured him. Megan barreled between them into the room, begging to hold the baby and peppering Peter and Papa with questions about their trip and whether they’d received any inheritance.
Once Papa handed her the baby, he said, “The inheritance was greater than we’d hoped.”
Cassandra had no desire to hear about money. She had just witnessed something far greater and did not want to taint the memory. She turned to smile at Tom, but the corridor was empty. Where had he gone? Her hand went absently to her braid, and she laughed at herself. He was probably dressing, as she should be doing.
Retreating to her room, she called for her maid. After donning her lavender gown, the very same she had worn the first day Tom had arrived, her maid pinned her hair up. Feeling refreshed, she went in search of Tom. At the door of the drawing room, she hesitated.
He was there, sitting alone. His hands were clasped together on his knees, and his head was bowed. The image was so unusual, so unlike him, a thread of fear stitched in her middle.
“Tom? Is everything all right?” She stepped into the room, moving to the sofa. He dropped his hands and lifted his head. The haunted look he gave her made her steps falter. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. “Tom?” She sat down beside him as worry clutched her middle and squeezed the air from her lungs.
Papa entered the room. “Tom? You wanted to speak to me?”
Tom stood, putting his back to her. “Forgive me. I know you must be tired, but what I have to say cannot wait.”
Papa nodded and followed him from the room. Cassandra watched them leave, the stitch of fear turning into a knotted mess in her stomach. Just yesterday morning before Tom had left for the workhouse, he had said there was a connection between him and her. She had felt it herself not an hour ago as he’d held her baby sister. Why, then, did she feel like whatever had happened with Mrs. Kelby had undone everything? If Tom still wanted to marry her, he wouldn’t have needed to speak with Papa at all. They were already engaged.
Tom would surely convince Papa to break the engagement. It was the only reason he would have to speak with him. The only reason he would look at her as if he were the sorriest man in the world.
Megan came into the drawing room. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”
Cassandra blinked a few times, wishing a new, better scenario would replace her current reality. “I don’t know. I suppose I was wrong.”
“What were you wrong about?”
“Everything.” Cassandra found her way to her feet, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes and in the back of her throat. Was Tom really going to walk away as if nothing had happened between them? She had grown used to being with him, tolerating his teasing, and waiting for him to sweep into the room and change a bleary day into one of laughter. But none of that mattered if he was not willing to fight for them. She shook her head. “How could he?”
“Tom? What did he do?”
“What did henotdo?” Cassandra knew she was letting her hurt fuel her temper, but she had no desire to palliate it. “He infiltrated my home, mycastle, and slowly won over each one of us. Anyone would have been charmed by that smile and let their guard down. And now he is taking with him all my happiness. I hate him.”
Megan’s mouth dropped. “No you don’t.”
“Then, I hate that I love him.” She spat the words and folded her arms angrily across her chest.
Aunt Evans came in, oblivious to Cassandra’s outburst, and announced breakfast. “Everyone needs nourishment after such a miraculous morning.”
