Cassandra moved to the window once again. As she did a shiver traversed her spine, and she reached for the blanket Mrs. Martin had left for her and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was already fully dressed in her heaviest wool gown and flannel chemise and petticoats, but without a fire in a grate and proper panes of glass in her window, the night’s bitter chill made sleep nearly impossible.
She drew the window’s thin covering aside. Her window overlooked an alley, and from her position she could see most of the Green Ox Inn’s front courtyard. Fiery torches lit the space, illuminating the activity in an eerie glow. Shadowy figures darted to and fro. Even in the dark of night, a carriage arrived. She watched the movement for several seconds, allowing it to disrupt her anxious thoughts.
She should be grateful for this room, for Mr. North had been right in his assessments. She’d seen and encountered several unruly guests at the Green Ox Inn in her short time there, and even now shouts and raucous laughter echoed from its direction. Fortunately, the boardinghouse was only slightly more expensive than the inn. Between her savings and the money from Mr. Clark’s letter, she had funds enough for now, but she needed to consider what would come next. Regardless of the outcome of her inquiries, she would need to find another teaching position somewhere soon.
A sudden, salient feminine cry froze her in her spot.
She jumped back and dropped the curtain.
Pointed whispers echoed, and hurried footsteps slapped the cobbles just outside.
Both alarmed and intrigued, Cassandra inched back to the window and strained to hear.
The voices seemed to have come to a stop. When the man’s voice resumed, it was low. And closer. “It’s too late to change your mind. You said you were certain.”
The responding voice was soft. Fragile. Panicked. “I know what I said, but don’t you think this is wrong? Surely it must be, to be—”
“I’ve given up everything for this. Everything, Rachel!”
Clearly this was a private conversation, one not intended to be overheard, but the harshness of the man’s tone chilled Cassandra. She peeked around the curtain’s edge. Light from the inn’s distant torches mingled with the white moonlight to illuminate two silhouettes—a male and a female—just outside the window. The wind whipped through the tight space, tugging the woman’s cape and tossing her long strands of hair violently about her head.
There was something strikingly familiar about the tight curls of the woman’s dark hair.
And then it struck her—she was the young woman from Briarton Park, the one dressed in saffron who’d stared at her as she passed through the chamber.
The girl reached for his hand. “But don’t you think that if we wait, just a little, we—”
“No. No!” The tall, lanky man shook her free with a yank of his arm. “I can’t go back, do you see? I’ve broken all ties for you. Because you said you loved me.”
“And I do! I know James is strict, but I can’t betray him. I just can’t.”
Cassandra had been around enough females of that age to detect uncertainty, if not fear, in the girl’s voice.
The man reached out and grabbed the girl’s shoulder. “You will honor your commitment to me.”
“I can’t. I—”
And then the man started to pull her back toward the carriage at the edge of the inn’s courtyard.
The young woman cried out in resistance, but the man wrenched harder, refusing to release her.
Incensed, Cassandra dropped the blanket around her shoulders, reached for the dagger she’d set on the bedside table, and wrapped her fingers around the cold leather grip. Mrs. Denton had taught her to take action when necessary, especially if the person was unable to act for themself, and it was needed now. Before fully considering the consequences of her actions, she was at the kitchen door and pushed out into the alley.
At the door’s opening the pair immediately stopped shuffling and turned to look at her.
“Let go of her,” Cassandra demanded.
But the man did not drop her arm. “This is a private matter.”
“I wonder then, if it’s such a private matter, why you’re shouting and behaving as such in a public space?” Cassandra smoothed her thumb over her knife, refusing to break eye contact.
The man turned the full brunt of his annoyance on her. “And I am telling you now to leave us be, madam.”
Heart pounding, Cassandra looked to the young woman, whose glassy eyes and unkempt hair made her appear more of a child than a woman.
No, this was not her business. Over the years she’d seen it happen far too many times to other teachers and even her older students—girls at the mercy of a man. She hadn’t assisted then. What was different now?
She locked eyes with the man and lifted her dagger. “You will step away from her.”
He scoffed and shifted, moving with arrogance, as if he intended to reach out for the knife.
She jerked back and then straightened. “I wouldn’t step closer. I doubt you’d know how to react when confronted with a woman who can properly defend herself.”
They stared at each other before he turned back to the girl. “This is absurd. We’re leaving. Now.”
The young woman, taking advantage of the man’s break in concentration, ripped her arm free and stumbled toward Cassandra.
Cassandra lunged forward, putting herself between them. “She’s made her decision. Now you leave, or I’ll scream and waken every single person in this boardinghouse. Then how will you answer for it?”
The inn’s light and moonlight flooded onto every hard edge of the man’s enraged expression. He sucked in a sharp breath and then pointed his forefinger at the girl and emphasized each syllable. “I’ve had enough! You’ve made your decision and it will not be undone. Oh, the wasted time and effort! Go then, return to your prison. I’ll not extend another opportunity.”
Cassandra stiffened and relaxed the grip on her knife ever so slightly. This was not an abduction or some sort of attack, as she had initially assumed.
This was a lovers’ quarrel.
Cassandra waited for the girl’s response, but she made none.
The man turned, and within moments his pounding footsteps and grumbling faded and were absorbed by the sounds from the inn.
Once they were alone, Cassandra glanced around to ensure privacy. She did not know the particulars, but she did know what was at stake if a young woman was discovered in such a situation. She placed her arm around the girl’s shivering shoulders to guide her away. “Let’s go, Rachel.”
“H-how do you know my name?”
“I heard him say it.”
“Where are we going?” A sob shook the girl’s shoulders.
“Your home. Briarton Park, isn’t it? We must hurry.”
“We?” Rachel’s steps stopped short. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
Cassandra huffed. “I’m not about to let you walk alone in the dark of night, especially after what’s transpired. Let’s be quick.”
They reentered the boardinghouse long enough for Cassandra to grab her own cloak and extinguish her candle before they were back outside. Fortunately, the path to Briarton Park was fresh in Cassandra’s mind, and the shadowy darkness lent privacy. They crossed the high street undetected, crossed the arched stone bridge, and were on the road leading to Briarton Park within minutes.