North bowed and continued down the path.
Shepard scoffed, and a flash of amusement brightened his otherwise somber face. “Consolation indeed. I’ll wager he’s something else in mind, vicar or not.”
James did not respond, but he recognized the tightening in his stomach. As much as he hated to admit it, jealousy—or something fiercely akin to it—roiled inside him. He did not like the thought of North, with his sickly sweet smiles and elegant words, within any distance of Miss Hale. She was an intelligent woman—did she really not see past his facade? But to forbid a vicar from calling on a woman who had just been in such distress was cruel.
But what was the alternative to North’s attention to her? That James would be the man to offer consolation? It was impossible. She was in his employ. She was caretaker for his children. And, if he were honest, there was a thin transition between consolation and romantic intentions.
Even so, a part of him wished he could be the man she would want during this time. But he had to be practical. She was the governess. There were questions about her parentage. Questions about her motives. They all had their role to play, and blurring any lines could be dangerous for everyone involved.
Chapter 30
Cassandra pressed her palms to her forehead as Mr. Warrington and Mr. Shepard departed the great hall. She squeezed her eyes closed as if by doing so she could shut out the horrible sight she’d seen earlier that day.
How her head ached with the day’s events. She’d fully anticipated that someone would question her about discovering the body, but she’d not expected to feel like a suspect or to share family details with a stranger.
She opened her eyes and moved to the window that overlooked the front yard. There stood Mr. Warrington, speaking with the magistrate.
About her, no doubt.
Oh, what Mr. Warrington must think of her. How he must regret ever allowing her at Briarton Park. True, she had nothing to do with the death, but Mr. Longham never would have been on the property if not for her plight. She could not help but feel that she, in some way, had brought tragedy here.
To make matters worse, she could sense Mrs. Towler’s presence, heavy and judgmental, from across the hall. Cassandra could barely bear the weight of it. She pivoted away from the window in preparation to return to the nursery, but Mrs. Towler’s snipped words stopped her short.
“I’m sure now you see what you have brought on this family.”
Stunned at the accusation, Cassandra shifted. “I did nothing.”
Mrs. Towler moved in a rustle of charcoal bombazine, blocking the way to the staircase. “You presume to tell me that your presence at Briarton had absolutely nothing to do with that man’s death? La. I took you to be shrewder than that.”
Cassandra swallowed dryly, feeling her tenacity buckle under the scrutiny. She did not feel that she could bear an altercation, and she refused to engage in one. But then the door creaked open behind her and heavy, masculine footsteps echoed.
She turned. Mr. North stood in the threshold.
Relief flooded her at the sight of him. A friendly face—the expression on which suggested he already knew the details, and he was concerned. For her.
Mr. North held his wide-brimmed hat in his ungloved hand. He bore no smile. He entered and bowed toward them both. “Ladies. I understand it has been a most difficult morning.”
Mrs. Towler folded her hands before her and raised her chin. “I’m surprised to find you here, Mr. North. It has been months since your last call to Briarton, has it not?”
If he was affected by the coolness of her tone, he gave no indication. “My sincerest apologies, if that is indeed the case. I was summoned, of course, with the discovery of the body. I would be remiss not to check and see how you are faring and to offer comfort, if possible.”
“I thank you for the effort, but it is wholly unnecessary,” Mrs. Towler said in a clipped tone. “Need I remind you that Miss Hale is a governess, an employee of this house, and is not in the habit of accepting visitors? Especially gentlemen visitors.”
He gave a little laugh, as if stunned—or amused—by the woman’s insinuation. “My dear Mrs. Towler, you misunderstand. These are extreme circumstances and Miss Hale’s experience this morning was, no doubt, unprecedented.”
Mrs. Towler turned her attention to Cassandra. “Very well, but the girls require their lessons. I trust you will not be long.”
Once the sound of Mrs. Towler’s footsteps had faded, Cassandra expelled the breath she’d been holding. Finally, she could interact with Mr. North as friends.
He stepped much closer to her, and his scent of sandalwood encircled her. He lowered his voice to an almost intimate level. “How are you, really?”
“This is unbelievable.” She, too, pulled closer to him, grateful for someone she could relax around. “Have you been to the site?”
“Yes, I have. Ghastly. The coroner was there, along with some other men from the village.”
“What are they saying?”
“They suspect he was attacked in some way. Have they given you any information?”
“No one has told me anything.” Cassandra shrugged. “The only thing I know is what Mr. Shepard told me just now, which was not much. Oh, how will they ever know what really happened?”
“Things, as unpleasant as they are, have a way of coming to light.” He adjusted his hat in his hands, left her side, and walked farther into the room before facing her once more. “I have been called to such scenes before, but I must confess, Miss Hale, that this one was most distressing. As soon as I heard you were the person to discover the body, all I could think of was your well-being.”
She gripped her hands before her to calm her nerves. The earnestness in his gaze was unlike any she had seen from him before.
Mr. North sighed. “These are the most precarious of times, especially with the unrest of the weavers. You’ve heard of it, of course.”
She nodded. How many times had Mr. Warrington warned her of such—of staying close to the main house and not letting the children outdoors without supervision?
He continued. “After the Kents’ gathering I feared I had overstepped my bounds in cautioning you against this position. But now, as your friend, I feel even more compelled to ask you to reconsider remaining here.”
She swallowed, surprised at the strong inflection in his voice.
He glanced over his shoulder at the door before he spoke again. “I have shared that they suspect it was an attack. Mr. Warrington is a mill owner. He’s seen as the enemy by many. I can’t help but fear this will happen again.”
She nodded her agreement and tucked a wayward lock behind her ear. “I will keep watch. I am perfectly safe. But I do appreciate your concern. And your friendship.”
“You will always have my friendship, Miss Hale. I knew the moment I encountered you in the graveyard that you would be an important person to me. Now, circumstances, and my feelings and reactions toward them, are making me realize how important.”
Commotion sounded, and one of the maids entered to tend the fire.
Mr. North straightened at the interruption. “I should be going. They will need me at the site. You must promise that if you need anything at all, you will call on the vicarage. Mrs. Pearson is also eager for you to stop by if you have need.”