He smiled, familiarly and almost affectionately, as she approached, and he bowed. “Miss Hale! I wondered if you would be joining us today.”
She curtsied. “I would not miss it.”
He cast a glance toward Betsy and gave a nod before returning his attention to her. “I hope while you are in our village you’ll join us each week.”
As he spoke to her, enthusiasm animated his expression, but the manner in which he ignored Betsy added vibrance to the haughty picture of him Betsy had painted earlier.
Other parishioners were queuing behind her, so she bid farewell and moved farther down the path, through the very graveyard where she had first encountered him. Betsy muttered something about needing to speak with someone, and she stepped away, leaving Cassandra alone.
She was but a few steps away from the Clark gravestones. Her gaze drifted over to them.
Dread, sadness, and the desire for answers pushed forward.
What secrets, if any, did everyone besides her know?
At the call of her name, she turned to see Rachel Warrington approaching her. Genuine happiness to see the young woman filled her. “Miss Warrington!”
“I am so glad to see you.” Rachel descended in a quick curtsy, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink from the chill in the air. “I was afraid I would not get a chance to see you again. James told me you were not sure how long you would be in the village.”
A strange thread pulled within her at the thought of Mr. Warrington speaking of her. “I would not leave without saying goodbye. Besides, I’ll be in Anston awhile yet, I think.”
Rachel looked down to the gravestones at Cassandra’s feet. “James also said that you’re searching for information about your family. Are you having any success?”
Cassandra shifted. Somehow it felt safer to speak with the Warringtons on this topic as opposed to Betsy. After all, Cassandra and Rachel already shared a secret—a solidarity—which held with it an understood discretion. “Not quite yet, but I’ve not given up hope.”
Rachel fiddled with the strings of her reticule and glanced over her thin shoulder before speaking. “I never did thank you for your assistance to me.”
Cassandra shook her head. “In truth I did nothing. I just happened to be there.”
“Nothing? How can you say that?” Incredulity clouded Rachel’s expression. “Who knows what would have happened or where I’d be if you’d not intervened. I’m not sure I would have been strong enough to resist Richard on my own.”
“You are much, much stronger than you think you are.” Cassandra squeezed Rachel’s gloved hand. “Have you heard from the young man?”
Rachel’s face fell. “No. And I doubt I ever shall again. It is for the best. I see that now.”
“And your brother and Mrs. Towler? Are you on better terms with them than you were the other night?”
Rachel bit her lower lip. “Things are set to right with James. We often don’t see things the same way, but we always come ’round. I fear I’ll never be on good terms with Mrs. Towler.”
A giggle rose from the direction from which Rachel had come. The two Warrington girls were playing on the walkway, clad in matching dove-gray pelisses and chip-straw bonnets adorned with white ribbons. Cassandra recognized the older brunette child from the orchard on her first visit to Briarton Park. “Are those young ladies your nieces?”
Rachel looked over her shoulder, lifting her hand to still the curls wild about her face in the wind. “Yes. Maria and Rose. James’s daughters. They are quite spirited.”
Cassandra watched as the little one dropped to the ground and pulled some of the grass. “Do they not have a governess?”
“No. They would benefit from one, I’m sure. As it is they run Mrs. Towler ragged. She is supposed to be in charge of them, but she often does not pay them much heed, or rather, she doesn’t know what to do with them.”
Cassandra frowned. She was definitely in favor of allowing young girls plenty of fresh air, play, and sunshine, but there was a time and a place for such behavior. “And does your brother not intervene?”
“He tries, but he knows nothing of such things. He is like a big child sometimes. He encourages their wildness, I think.”
Mr. Warrington swept in and gathered the child in his arms, attempting to redirect the determined girl from the grass and dirt.
Rachel tilted her head to the side, and a glint glimmered in her eye. “Did you not say that you were a teacher? It would be so nice for them to have a teacher—a governess—like you.”
“I’m not a governess. Anyway, I’m sure Mr. Warrington will make arrangements for them on that front when the time comes.”
“Mrs. Towler has already selected one, a fancy one, or so I’m told. But she will not arrive for several months. Apparently she is traveling with the family she’s currently engaged with.” Rachel raised her brow. “But I know my brother would like a governess for the children sooner rather than later. And besides, isn’t a governess really a teacher who lives with a family?”
It was impossible not to interpret Rachel’s meaning.
How had Cassandra not at least thought of it? She was in need of a position. Mr. Warrington had said that he owed her a favor. Could it even be a possibility?
It would not do to raise false hope. “I very much doubt that I am the sort of person your brother and Mrs. Towler have in mind.”
Rachel shrugged. “I meant nothing untoward by it. Anyway, I must be off, but will you come to call at Briarton Park presently? My brother has expressly forbade me from leaving the grounds without his permission, but he’s said nothing about not having visitors.”
The girl exuded eagerness. How could she tell her no? She’d been through a great ordeal. If Cassandra could help her, it would make her feel like she was doing something worthy. Plus, she really would cherish the company. “I should like that very much.”
“Good. Tomorrow, perhaps late afternoon?”
Cassandra nodded and watched as Rachel rejoined her family. She said something to Mr. Warrington, and they both looked in her direction. Mr. Warrington bowed from a distance.
She watched him with the youngest girl. She could help him. She was capable of being a governess. She needed a position. And it was right in the village where she needed to be.
The crowd that had gathered began to thin, and she spotted Betsy, who motioned for her to join her. “My, my. Speaking with the Warringtons. The next thing you know, you will be speaking with the Prince Regent himself.”
“Don’t be silly. Miss Warrington is my friend, just like you are.”
Betsy clicked her tongue. “She’s kin to the owner of a mill. Most people here work in a mill or are related to someone who does. Lines are drawn very quickly. Just be cautious as to which side you are on.”
Chapter 14
Cassandra lifted her face to the sunshine, allowing its bright light to flood over her face and cloaked shoulders. She closed her eyes and let its subtle warmth caress her cheeks.
At this very moment she felt free. Here, outside in the fresh air, she could pretend it was an early spring day back in Lamby and nothing at all had changed. That she was surrounded by the children in her care and confident in her role.