With the authority that came with familiarity, Mrs. Smith led them from the parlor, through the great hall, down the corridor, and into the study. She moved toward the inner wall. “This is where most of his secrets were held, least when I was ’ere.”
Mrs. Smith lifted a piece of trim work, which seemed to serve as a lock. Once it was free, the entire panel swung inward into a void.
Using the light from the fire, Mrs. Smith lit a candle, then a lantern, and then handed it to him.
Lifting the lantern, James stepped inside, illuminating several trunks and chests stacked along the narrow room.
She nodded to the chamber’s far end. “If you follow this, it leads to a door in the floor of the stables.”
James ran his finger along the dust atop the nearest trunk. Mrs. Smith was right. This must have been a closely held secret. And this one had been undisturbed. Undiscovered, until now.
“Thank you for sharing this with me, Mrs. Smith. I had no idea.”
The mantel clock from the study struck the hour, and Mrs. Smith turned. “I must be goin’. My husband will be wonderin’ where I am, and I must get supper on the table for me boys.”
James bowed his farewell, and as the women exited the room, he returned his attention to the newly discovered spot. He had no doubt it held secrets, and he was about to find out what they were.
Chapter 40
James stood in the study, staring at the trunks stacked around the room.
Unbelievable.
He removed his coat, rolled up his lawn sleeves to just below his elbows, and lit several more candles. Night was falling, and he could not be happier for Cassandra. She’d appeared so joyous talking with her mother. He’d just returned from checking on Mrs. Towler, and now he was eager to dive in and see what secrets Robert Clark had left behind.
Sounds echoed in the hall, and he looked up from the trunk to see Cassandra standing in the doorway. A shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and her chestnut hair fell gently around her face.
His motions slowed, and he straightened at the sight.
She was beautiful. If possible, she seemed to grow more alluring each time he saw her.
“Well.” He put down the pile of papers he’d been reading. “This is a turn of events, isn’t it?”
She shared a sweet, unguarded smile and a little laugh. “I don’t believe it, really.”
“What made your mother change her mind?” He veered around a trunk to get closer to her, eager to speak with her now that they were alone.
“She said she’d heard rumors about the inheritance and about Mr. Longham, and she didn’t want to stand in the way of what was rightfully mine. She even told her husband about me. And look.” She extended a piece of paper to him. “It’s her copy of the custody agreement, signed by her, my father, and Mr. Longham.”
“Well, this is extraordinary. It is what you wanted, isn’t it? Answers? Family?” He reached out and set his hands on her shoulders encouragingly, but something was wrong. “So why don’t you seem happy?”
“She told me something else that was alarming. I showed her the baptism record, and she told me that a vicar named Stricklin was the one who performed the baptism.”
He failed to see the connection. “And?”
“According to the will, if I do not inherit the land within three years of my father’s death, the land will pass to the estate of Mr. Stricklin, remember? It has to be the same man or, at the very least, the same family. She said my father and Mr. Stricklin were friends, and Mr. Longham had said something similar. But here is where it becomes concerning. Mrs. Kent told me that Mr. North’s uncle was the vicar before him, and she even told me his wife’s name. Alice. It makes me wonder if Mr. North really is in some way connected to either the will or even Mr. Longham’s death. I can’t quite put it together.”
He exhaled deeply, considering everything she’d just said. Things were, in a way, starting to make sense. And this new information gave even more credence to the fact that North was somehow involved in this. The puzzle was not complete, but the pieces were there. They just had to solve it.
He studied her face to get a gauge on how she was feeling about it. “This must be disappointing to you. I know you are fond of Mr. North.”
At this her eyes flashed up, and she stared at him for several seconds, as if trying to judge the meaning behind the statement. “I am fond of him, or rather, I was. He was a friend when I needed one, but now I see his motives might not have had friendship in mind. Oh, I just can’t figure it out.”
James needed to find out once and for all what her thoughts were on the man, without sounding like a jealous fool. “North was making his intentions quite known. Surely you saw it. I—I was afraid you might succumb to them.”
“Succumb? To Vincent North?” she teased, and a hint of amusement flashed. “Perhaps I should have. I am penniless. Illegitimate. And at the center of a scandal. He’d be a fortunate man to have me.”
He let out a soft, throaty laugh at her sarcasm and moved closer to her. “He’s not the only man who finds you intriguing. Take me, for instance. I can barely look away from you.”
At this, her smile faded. She sobered.
He took her hands in his, and she peered up at him with those wide, trusting eyes—eyes that made him forget some of the past’s pain and anticipate what lay ahead. “I hope you will forget North once and for all. And think of a future with me.”
She allowed him to draw her into an embrace. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. She rested her head against his chest, and he held her for several moments, until she looked up at him. “Do you suppose one day everything will be easy? Everyone will be well and happy?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her hand, then pulled her even closer. “But with you here beside me, I feel happy, and I haven’t felt happy like this in a long time.”
He wanted her to agree, to say she felt the same way, but she stiffened. And pulled away slightly.
“What?” He flinched at the change in her demeanor. “What is it?”
“When you say things like that . . .” Her voice faded, and she averted her gaze.
“Like what?” He frowned, not sure what had upset her. “Tell me. I really don’t know.”
She gave a nervous little laugh. “Do you not see the similarities?”
He shook his head. “What similarities?”
She took a step backward. “I’m governess here. My mother was employed by Briarton Park too. It was messy. Complicated. And disastrous.”
His eyes narrowed as the meaning of her explanation sank in. “Cassandra, I’m not like Robert Clark. I would never treat a woman the way he treated your mother. Surely you can’t think—”
“No, I know that.” She shook her head emphatically. “It’s only that I’m frightened, I suppose. Last night . . .” Her voice faltered. “I’m frightened of what comes next. Frightened of getting hurt in a way from which I can’t recover.”
James could understand the fear of pain. He could also understand the vulnerability she must feel in her current situation. And the betrayals she’d felt by the headmistress, Mr. North, and also the young man Rachel told him about.