The castle crouched on the clifftop, dominating the town that straggled down the valley to the sea’s edge. Cassandra sat up, straightened her weary shoulders and crossed her arms like the perfect servant. She ached in every limb from the jolting of the road, yet all she had done was sit alongside Nicholas.
He had driven unfamiliar horses for mile after mile, negotiated potholes and tollgates, avoided village urchins and stray dogs, and yet he looked as fresh as when they had set out from Grosvenor Square. Only the crinkles of tiredness at the corners of his eyes and the way he flexed his shoulders betrayed any sign of fatigue. Cassandra watched his hands, sure and strong on the reins, the long fingers sending almost imperceptible signals to the leaders.
The curricle was bowling down to a wide esplanade and, suddenly, there was the sea sparkling grey in the evening light, the salt tang filling the air – and filling Cassandra with a strange exaltation.
‘Stop bouncing,’ Nicholas chided, but he was grinning. ‘You really are the most irrepressible child. Have you never seen the sea before?’
‘No, never. I’ve imagined it, of course, but it’s so big, so…’
‘Wet,’ Nicholas supplied wryly. ‘Now behave yourself, we’re nearly at the Ship Inn.’
‘Oh.’ Cassandra noticed for the first time the abundance of inns and lodging houses that lined the street, all of them disreputable and dirty.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not one of these. You’ll find the Ship comfortable enough. And the bedlinen is at least clean.’ As he spoke, he wheeled the team into a cobbled yard under a gaudily painted sign of a galleon in full sail that swung so low that Cassandra ducked instinctively.
The yard was bustling with sporting carriages like their own and a number of chaises with piles of luggage strapped high behind. ‘Now you see why I was so eager to leave on time. We would have lost the accommodation otherwise.’
Cassandra climbed down stiffly, pleased to see the yard was freshly strewn with clean straw and that neatly dressed grooms hurried forward to take the horses.
She stared in awe at one of the passengers alighting from a closed carriage on the arm of a foppishly dressed gentleman. The lady was wearing a Spanish pelisse in a dove grey sarsenet trimmed with Chinese binding and her hands and feet were gloved in dainty lemon kid. Cassandra watched open-mouthed as this vision stepped down onto the cobbles without a thought for her exquisite footwear.
She was jolted out of her study by Nicholas stepping forward and raising his hat. ‘Lady Broome. What a pleasure to see you here. Are you making the crossing?’
‘My dear Earl!’ The lady fluttered forward, extending her gloved hand. ‘You know my brother George?’ The gentlemen exchanged nods. ‘Nothing would prevail upon me to brave the Channel, not even for a glimpse of Paris fashions before they reach Town. I am here meet my brother.’
‘And you?’ She clung to Nicholas’s sleeve and they began to walk towards the inn door.
‘Alas, the perils of the ocean for me – and without your presence to stiffen my resolution… Cass! Don’t stand there with your mouth open, boy, bring my dressing case.’
Resentfully Cassandra tugged at the leather straps securing the bags. Mouth open, indeed. The heavy case fell off the top of the pile, wrenching her arms.
‘Need a hand with those, lad?’ One of the grooms was beside her. ‘Amazing what these nobs put into their cases, feels like a load of bricks, don’t it?’ The man swung the remaining pieces down and took them into the Ship and Cassandra followed behind, trying to manage the heavy case and stride manfully at the same time.
Nicholas was leaning negligently against the mantelpiece in the coffee room. When Cassandra came in, he hailed a passing waiter. ‘Show my man to my chamber with the luggage. Cass, check the heavy luggage has arrived and unpack my evening dress. I shall dine with Lady Broome and Sir George this evening.’
Cassandra opened her mouth indignantly, then closed it again with a snap. After all, what else did she expect? She’d freely entered the charade, she couldn’t complain when she was asked to act the part. But Nicholas didn’t have to act his with such relish, she though resentfully.
The room was a good one with a bow window overlooking the main street and a glimpse of the sea beyond. A maidservant was mending the fire and the heavy luggage was piled high in one corner. With a nod at the girl, Cassandra began unpacking the dressing case, laying out the silver-backed brushes and shaving gear.
Poking into the various valises, she found what seemed appropriate evening wear and clean linen. It was not until she was laying a nightshirt on the bed that a thought struck her. Where was she to sleep? Where did servants sleep in establishments like this? And more immediately, where was she to eat?
What time was it, and when would Nicholas require warm water? How little she knew. It was all very well to have to act like a boy. That was easy, compared with learning to act like a valet.
‘Oh, hang the man.’ Cassandra muttered, angry that Nicholas had abandoned her in this strange place and, suddenly, not a little nervous.
‘Language, infant.’ Nicholas was leaning against the door jamb. He seemed lazily amused, his eyes narrowed as he watched her.
‘I am not an infant. How could you leave me without giving me some idea what to do with all this?’ She gestured wildly at the pile of cases, irrationally more angry now he was there than she had been before.
‘What did you expect me to do?’ he enquired, strolling into the room and loosening his neck cloth. ‘Invite you to take tea with Lady Broome?’ He shrugged off his coat and handed it to her. ‘Brush this will you, it’s dusty from the journey.’
‘Brush it yourself.’ Her chin came up and she threw the coat onto the bed. ‘You just go off with that woman and leave me…’
‘Calm down, Cassie and don’t treat my coats like that. I’m sorry I left you, brat. To tell you the truth, I keep forgetting you’re not a boy, you’re so good at it.’
He straightened and strolled across to look down at her, his eyes warm with amusement. One long finger tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. ‘Stop sulking, Cassie. I couldn’t just leave Lady Broome, it would have looked most odd. Besides,’ he smiled reminiscently, ‘what better way to kill an hour than in the company of a beautiful woman? You seem to have managed well enough. Have you ordered hot water?’
Cassandra bit her lip, acknowledging to herself that her real complaint was Nicholas’s preference for Lady Broome’s company over her own. ‘No. I didn’t know what time you wanted it. I’ll get it now.’ She paused, her hand on the door knob, ‘Nicholas, where am I to sleep tonight?’