Lord Deverill's Secret (6 page)

“Out all hours. You’ll be fit for nothing in the morning, I’ll be bound,” said Moll, greeting her with gruff affection. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes,” said Cassandra with a tired smile. “I did.”

She said nothing to Moll about some of the more disturbing aspects of her evening. Indeed, she did not want to think of them herself.

“About time you had some frolics,” said Moll approvingly. “Did all the gennulmen dance with you?”

“Not all of them,” Cassandra teased her. “But I danced every dance.”

“Ah.” Moll nodded in satisfaction. “I knew how it would be.”

Cassandra yawned.

“You’ll be tired,” said Moll. “I’ve put a hot brick in your bed. It’s come colder this evening.”

Cassandra went upstairs. She sat down in front of the dressing table and unclasped the simple string of pearls from around her neck, laying it in its box. Then she pulled off her gloves and unpinned her hair. She stood up so that Moll could unfasten her gown and then stepped out of it. Corset, chemise and drawers followed, and Moll helped her into her lawn nightdress.

As Cassandra fastened the nightdress, pulling the draw-string at the neck, she found her thoughts returning to Lord Deverill. What had been the meaning of the look he had given her as she had left the assembly rooms behind? What did he know of Mr. Elwin?

And why had he been with her brother on the night he died?

CHAPTER FOUR

The following morning dawned bright and fair. Cassandra woke at five o’clock, with the sun streaming in at her window. She was used to country hours and, despite her late night at the assembly rooms, she had no desire to stay in bed. She rose, washed and dressed, and then went downstairs. Moll brought her a breakfast of chocolate and hot rolls and she ate it by the open window in the parlour. When she had finished she looked at the clock. She had almost four hours before Maria called for her, and she meant to put the time to good use. She had a lot to do if she wanted to prepare the house for sale.

“I thought we would make a start on the attic today,” she said to Moll. “It will have to be cleaned at some time.”

“You should hire some more servants, Miss Cassie,” grumbled Moll. “It’s more than the two of us can see to.”

“You know there’s no spare money for servants. It has taken nearly everything we have just to come here. But we will manage.”

She and Moll went down to the kitchen, where Cassandra put on an apron, then they both collected buckets and cloths and went up to the attic. Cassandra stopped on the landing at the top. The attic was split into four rooms, and a glance through each of the doors showed that the rooms were filled with broken furniture, old trunks and sundry items that did not belong anywhere else. The rooms were all very dusty, and they smelt stale.

“We’ll start in here, I think.”

She went into the first room and opened the window wide. A fresh smell invaded the room. She breathed in deeply, thinking that the freshness was one of the things she loved most about Brighton, particularly in the summer, and that it was one of the things she would miss most. She heard the call of the gulls and the rush of the sea, and leaning out of the window, she managed to glimpse the water. How she loved it! And how she would miss it. She was conscious of a sinking of her spirits. To be forced to sell the town house, which had been such a large part of her life as a child, was a great sadness. Her summer holidays as well as the grey winter months had been enlivened by trips to the seaside and had varied the domestic scene. And now, soon, it would be a thing of the past…. But she had had it for many years, she consoled herself, and had been the richer for it.

Did she really have to sell it? she wondered. If she could bring herself to marry for money and position, then she could keep it, and both she and Lizzie would have it for years to come. The idea was tempting, and the thought of Lord Armington came to mind. A moment later she laughed at herself. As if Lord Armington would propose marriage! She was becoming as fanciful as Maria! But it was possible some gentleman might propose. Could she do it? Could she accept? It would make her life far easier. But to live, every day, with a man she did not love—to sit with him at table, eat with him…no, it was not to be borne. She would sell the house, and she and Lizzie would spend the rest of their lives in the country.

“Soonest started, soonest finished,” grumbled Moll, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

They were soon hard at work. Cassandra sorted through the discarded and broken furniture, reflecting that Rupert had spent more on one cabinet than she and Lizzie had spent in a whole year. She sighed at the thought of her brother’s profligate ways, but then turned her thoughts to more practical concerns, deciding if any of the furniture would be of use on the estate. Some of it was of good quality and would fit in well in the country, so she set it to one side. Anything that was broken she put on the landing, shuffling it there with Moll’s help.

“John can take the pieces I am keeping to the estate in the coach, once it has been repaired,” she said. “The rest he can dispose of.”

Having sorted through the furniture, she helped Moll with the cleaning. The sun rose in the sky. At last, tired, she sat back on her heels and pushed her hair out of her face. It had come loose of its chignon, and was falling in golden strands around her neck.

“I just hopes all this work is worth it,” said Moll darkly. “There might not be anyone looking for a town house.”

“Someone is sure to want it,” said Cassandra. “Now that the Prince of Wales has made his home in Brighton it’s become popular with all the most fashionable people, and it’s easy to see why. There is so much for them to do. There are the balls and assemblies, the races and the bathing…” She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, whose hands showed that it was half past nine. She threw down her duster. “Maria will be here soon. I had better go and change into something more suitable.”

“All this sea bathing. I don’t hold with it,” said Moll. “You’ll catch your death,” she predicted dourly.

“I don’t suppose it will be as bad as that. I will probably only contract pneumonia,” said Cassandra teasingly.

“And who’ll have to nurse you if you do, that’s what I want to know?”

“You’ll enjoy it,” Cassandra said humorously. “You know you always love looking after me. Now, I will need a towel, and a dry chemise to change into when I have bathed.”

Muttering under her breath, Moll went to fetch them. Cassandra removed her apron and tidied her hair, and then ran over to the window as she heard a carriage pulling up outside. It was Maria. She went downstairs with Moll behind her, and putting on her spencer and bonnet she went outside.

“I’ve sent James away,” said Maria. “It’s such a lovely morning, I thought we would walk.”

“A good idea,” said Cassandra, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face and thinking that a walk would be just the thing.

She and Maria unfurled their parasols and strolled down to the beach. Moll grumbled along behind them. Despite the early hour, they were not the only promenaders. A number of other ladies and gentlemen were strolling along, taking the air. A young boy propelled himself along on a pedestrian curricle, dodging in and out of them, and a dog ran along behind him, barking. Urchins followed the dog, trying to catch it, and a baker ran along behind the urchins, shaking his fist as one of them crammed chunks of a stolen loaf into his mouth. A buxom young maid called out the virtues of her pastries, and a footman ran out into the road, intent on hailing a hackney carriage for his mistress.

Cassandra and Maria walked on to the beach, with Moll still complaining behind them. Cassandra’s eye wandered over the brightly coloured bathing machines. The wooden huts rested on the top of four large iron wheels which were red with rust. Some of them were already in use, standing in the water, and one of them was in the act of being drawn in to the sea. It was being pulled by a heavy horse, who was being urged on by a ragged urchin perched on its back.

Cassandra and Maria approached the nearest machine and arranged to take it, then climbed up the steps that led inside. Moll followed them, puffing and panting as she climbed the steps.

“Like a gypsy caravan,” grumbled Moll. “Not fit for a decent body.”

“It’s not so very bad,” said Cassandra. “In fact, it’s very clean, much better than the one I had last time.”

The machine was not only clean, it was spacious inside. A wooden seat ran down both sides of it, and in the middle of it there was a clear space, ideal for undressing. Cassandra and Maria took off their gowns, with Moll’s help, and then removed their corsets. They sat on the seat and took off their satin shoes, then rolled off their stockings. At last, dressed in nothing but their chemises, they declared themselves ready.

“I tried to persuade Harry to bathe as well, but he said if he wanted to kill himself he’d do it in a civilized way, with brandy and cigars, instead of catching his death in the water,” said Maria with a sigh. “It’s a pity, because I’m sure he’d enjoy it. The gentlemen’s part of the beach is always busy.”

There was a bump and the machine began to move. It crunched over the beach and then swished and sloshed as it entered the water. When it was deep enough, the urchin halted the horse and Cassandra descended the steps, with Maria behind her. She gasped as she felt the sea creeping over her feet, then her knees, then her thighs.

“It’s cold!” she exclaimed.

At the bottom of the steps there was a dipper, a jovial fat woman dressed in a shapeless garment like an enveloping nightgown, with a cap on her head. She helped Cassandra down the last few remaining steps and dipped her into the water.

“It’s a lovely day for it,” the dipper said.

Cassandra agreed. She was becoming used to the temperature, and as soon as she was immersed she struck out to sea, away from the bottom of the steps.

Maria launched herself forward and swam a few ungainly strokes.

“I wish Mama had taught me to swim as a child,” she said. “I used to see you in the water with your mother and envy you, but Mama said it was undignified.”

“Perhaps it is,” said Cassandra. “But it’s also great fun.”

They swam on together, then stopped to talk.

“Look at all the beautiful bathing dresses,” said Cassandra.

Whilst some of the ladies were bathing in their petticoats, others were dressed in colourful garments that were as well designed as ball gowns. An elegant young lady swam past, and Cassandra recognized the dusky-haired beauty from the assembly rooms.

“That’s Miss Kerrith,” said Maria. “I’ve told you about her before. She’s set her cap at Lord Deverill, and means to have him if she can. I think she will succeed. His father speculated unwisely and lost the family fortune, and he needs to marry an heiress.”

Cassandra continued to watch Miss Kerrith. The young beauty’s bathing dress was a delicate shade of pink, and was adorned with ribbon roses. It clung to her perfect form in the water, showing every curve. Her bathing cap was designed to match, and covered all but the front row of her dusky curls.

“She is always exquisitely dressed,” said Maria. “I’m tempted to buy a bathing gown myself, but it seems such a waste. The salt water will quickly ruin it, and besides, there is no one of any importance to see it.”

Although some of the bathers were young, many were elderly or infirm. Cassandra and Maria moved away from them and began to swim again. Cassandra soon outstripped Maria. She turned on her back and floated along in the sunshine. She was just about to turn on to her front again and swim back to Maria when a flailing arm hit her across the throat and she was knocked under the water. Unfortunately, not all of the ladies who took to the water could swim, and such incidents were not uncommon. She righted herself, and was just about to turn round and offer her assistance when another whirling arm pushed her under again. She surfaced and tried to help, but she was hit again by whirling arms and legs. She was pushed under the water, and by some unlucky chance, the arms and legs kept her under. She struggled to reach the surface, but when she was kicked again she decided to escape the flailing limbs by swimming along underwater. When she had gone far enough to be safe, she emerged from the waves and gulped down precious lungfuls of air. She was wiping the water out of her eyes when Maria swam up beside her.

“What happened?” asked Maria in concern.

“One of the women needed help,” said Cassandra. “I tried to give it to her, but she kept pushing me under the water. There’s always someone in trouble. Most of the women here only swim when they’re on holiday. They go along quite contentedly, then suddenly they find they are out of their depth and start to panic.”

“Where did it happen?” asked Maria.

Cassandra looked round, but there was no sign of any windmilling arms and legs, and no splashes or sounds of anyone in distress. The ladies nearby were swimming along serenely, or standing up to their waists in the water and gossiping.

“One of the dippers must have helped her, or she must have managed to find her feet.”

“As long as she doesn’t come near me,” said Maria anxiously. “I’m not very confident in the water, and I don’t want anyone pulling me under the waves.”

Despite her words, Maria was reasonably proficient, and she and Cassandra swam on together, enjoying the freshness of the water and the sound of the surf in their ears.

As time passed they began to grow cold and at last they were ready to go home. They returned to their bathing machine and climbed the steps. Water streamed from their chemises and poured from their hair.

“You’ll catch your deaths, just see if you don’t,” grumbled Moll as she wrapped them in towels.

Cassandra and Maria exchanged glances and smiled, then gave their attention to dressing. Before long they were ready to go.

“A hot bath, that’s what you’ll need when we get home,” said Moll as the three of them left the bathing hut.

They began to walk up the beach. As they did so, Cassandra caught sight of a figure she recognized. It was Lord Deverill. He saw them and greeted them, making a bow.