Chapter Eighteen
I am usually at my best in the morning, cheerful and ready to tackle whatever obstacles the day may bring. This day was no different; I awoke feeling refreshed, and laid in bed mulling over my plans for the day.
Until something niggled at the back of my mind, something unpleasant. Suddenly, the full horror the previous evening swept over me.
“It’s obvious that some apologies are in order,” I told Annie as she brought me in a cup of morning coffee.
“If you say so, miss.”
I had given her an abbreviated version of the evening’s events, knowing I could trust her. “I shall have to make those first. And then there’s Helena. Neither of her brothers deserves an apology, but surely I owe her some explanation for my sudden disappearance.”
“That might be best,” Annie agreed.
A glance at the clock set me into motion. Dressed in a navy and white checked day dress, I ran downstairs before any of the family was up. I wasn’t quite early enough, however, for Helena.
“Oh, miss, you’re up.” Theodore looked surprised to see me downstairs so early, and held out a letter. “This just came for you.”
It was a letter from Helena, pleading with me to let her visit, to apologize for both her brothers’ bad behavior. She offered to come and see me at any hour, or begged me to visit her whenever I wished. I was welcome in her house anytime, she declared.
“I am quite certain that Lord Sherringham would never say that,” I said as I tossed the letter into the fire. Helena’s intentions were good, but I knew just how welcome I was at St. John House. I sent Theodore out to fetch a cab while I contemplated an apology to my aunt.
As luck would have it, my uncle is the one who received it, Caroline not having risen yet.
“My dear, you have nothing to apologize for,” Henry replied comfortingly. “It is I who should beg your forgiveness for allowing the earl to speak to you in such a manner. You must accept
my
apology for including Lord Sherringham in the dinner party.”
“Never mind, as long as we both forgive each other, all is well.”
“Is it?” he asked, peering from under his bushy white eyebrows.
I felt uncomfortable under his knowing gaze. “I still have to explain myself to Mabel, but yes, other than that task, all is well.”
“And what of Mr. St. John?”
I frowned and pulled back. “I see no reason to apologize or to explain myself to him. I own that I will speak with his sister on the matter, but I hardly feel it necessary to discuss the situation with a man who would stand idly by and allow his lov—a friend to be so mistreated by his own brother. No, Uncle, I cannot see that!”
“Are you so certain that St. John stood idly by?”
I looked at him with disbelief. “I was there! I heard no exclamation from Griffin. I saw no attempt by him to stop his brother. I heard no protestations against the slander, no defense of my innocence!”
“Perhaps, my dear, that is because you took us all by surprise in leaving so precipitously. I admit I was just as stunned by Sherringham’s rudeness as anyone in that room, but you did not give me time to gather my wits before you left.”
“I did not feel strong enough to take another blow,” I said dryly. “I thought it an opportune moment to make my escape.”
“No one would deny you the right to leave the room after having been so insulted,” he agreed. “Because of that, you were not present to witness what happened after you had done so.”
Well, that made me curious. “What happened after I left?”
“Your young man was an admirable sight to behold. It made me feel young again, watching him. There was a time when I was courting Caroline that she decided to test my devotion by amusing herself with a baronet…but I won’t bore you with that ancient history now. No, my dear, your young man did you proud.”
“What did he do, exactly?”
The white eyebrows beetled at me for a moment. “He made himself clear, in language that should not have been used in the presence of ladies, as to his opinion of his brother. Once that matter was finished, he turned his attention to Robert Hunter. I’m a little confused as to why he was under the impression that Hunter was engaged to you—he’s not is he?”
I shook my head.
“I thought not. It was fairly apparent who the object of Hunter’s attention was, to everyone but her brother, I should say. Regardless,” he said, eying me speculatively, “St. John grabbed Hunter by the back of his collar and said something about finding you. He left the room with him in tow.”
I said nothing, but chewed my bottom lip in thought.
“When they could not find you on the street, St. John almost knocked Hargreaves down trying to get the information from him that he had seen you run upstairs. The rest you probably know. All in all, I was most impressed with the behavior of your young man.”
“I don’t think he is my young man anymore,” I said sadly.
“Really? I believe that will come as news to the gentleman. My dear,” he leaned forward and put a hand on my knee, “a word from one who is much older and wiser than you: do not test the love of a man by games and deceit. All too often such plans end in sorrow.”
I left shortly after that. Rather than go home and face my family, I cravenly chose to spend the morning at the hall devoted to my favorite charity. There I helped assemble clothing, books, and other donated items in boxes to be sent to needy women. It was a soothing task, and mindless enough to allow me to continue the interesting thoughts that had been generated by my conversation with Uncle Henry.
“Off home, are you?” one of the women asked as I was leaving the hall.
“I’m not sure…” I hesitated as I stood on the front steps, trying to decide what I should do next. “There is a meeting to discuss the leadership and future of the Union scheduled for noon. I suppose I should attend that, although…oh, I’m just being silly. I’ll go.”
There were a large number of women in the meeting hall when I arrived. Since I am tall, I sit in the back so as not to obstruct the view from behind me, although the current fashion in hats makes it difficult to see no matter where one sits. I found a few empty seats in the last row and took one behind a woman who was wearing a simple straw boater, and was congratulating myself on my choice of seats and looking through my pockets for my notebook, when a hand gripped my arm.
“Cassandra! My dearest friend—”
“Shhhhh!” the woman in the straw boater silenced Helena.
She looked at me pleadingly, and I rose and slipped out of the hall with her. Outside of the meeting room she turned and grasped me in a fierce hug. “Oh, my dearest Cassandra! Can you ever forgive us? Can you ever forgive
me
for having such a beast of a brother? What must you think of us?”
Fearful that she was working herself up to an embarrassing dramatic display, I walked her outside. A half-block away was a tiny square. I led her there and deposited her on a bench. She held a handkerchief to her eyes as she gazed at me with remorse.
“For heaven’s sake, Helena!” I said in an exasperated tone, sure any kindness would result in more tears. “Collect yourself. I am fine.”
“But—what you must think—”
“I think nothing unkind about
you
, I can assure you,” I said fondly. “I don’t blame you for your brother’s rudeness.”
“If you only knew how I feel about you. How
we
feel about you.”
“Thank you, I know how your elder brother feels about me,” I said with a smile. “I would rather not be forced to listen to any further expressions of his opinion.”
She looked down at the gloves she had twisted off her hands. “I am thoroughly ashamed of Harold’s behavior last night. I can only apologize to you for his rudeness. He is a proud man and sometimes seems a little irrational, unwilling to listen to reason. But Griffin and I—” She stopped, choked with emotion.
Despite my irritation with her dramatics, I felt tears gather in my eyes. She flung her arms around me and sobbed, “Oh, Cassandra, you are like a sister to me!”
I was touched by her sentiment, but embarrassed by the scene. I knew if she continued, I’d be in tears as well. I patted her in a comforting manner, and urged her to control herself.
“Is it true that you climbed down the ivy?” she asked when she had done so.
“Yes. It’s not as difficult as you might think. I used to climb out my bedroom window as a child. I was quite good at it, as a matter of fact.”
“But why did you run? That is, I understand why you ran from the drawing room—I cannot think of anyone who would want to stay in the same room after they had been so insulted—but why did you run from Griffin?”
I glanced at her, then looked away to watch a haughty elderly woman slowly promenade by with an equally elderly Scottish Terrier. I was torn between telling Helena the entire situation, and a reticence to embarrass myself further. “I had no other thought than to make my way home as quickly as possible. I was not running away from any
one
individual.”
“But Griffin said you refused to see anyone last night. He and Robert spoke with your brother-in-law, and they all went to your house to see if you had gone there.”
“I wasn’t aware of that. It was kind of your brother to be so concerned on my behalf.”
Helena
stared at me with a variety of expressions, surprise and pity plainly visible, followed by a gentle, sympathetic look. “Cassandra, be kind to Griffin. I…he…I know you’ve only known each other for a short time, but he really cares for you very much. I don’t worry that I am breaking a confidence. I’m sure you must know how he feels; it is very apparent when he looks at you. Please, I ask you as a sister who loves him, do not be too hasty in judging his faults.”
Indignation filled me at her initial words, but soon gave way to a deep sadness. I watched her twist her gloves, and wondered how much money she spent each month in replacements. “I’m afraid whatever affectionate feelings Griffin held for me have been destroyed, due in part to his stubbornness and my inability to explain the situation.”
“What do you mean?”
I looked around us. We were alone in a corner of the square, with no one but the elderly Scotty and owner. I felt I could speak freely. “Griffin heard me tell Robert that I loved him.”
“Oh?”
I felt, rather than saw, Helena withdraw, and hastened to explain. “That is what he
thought
he heard, what he did not hear was me telling Robert in what manner I loved him. I have known Robert since I was a little girl, and have always loved him like a brother. In fact, he is dearer to me than any brother could be, because—well, someday he will make someone so very happy.”
Helena
let go of her breath suddenly, and beamed at me. “You love him as a brother. Yes, of course. A brother. That makes perfect sense.”
“Griffin, being an adorable but extremely pigheaded man, heard only the first part of my speech, and left so quickly I could not explain the situation to him. Now he thinks he’s being noble by not standing in the way of my happiness, when really—really—”
I couldn’t help the tears from filling my eyes. Convinced that contact with Helena was making me prone to emotional scenes, I looked at her pitifully.
“—you are terribly unhappy,” she finished with a sob. “Oh, my dear, can you ever forgive me for lecturing you! How could I tell you to be kind to Griffin when he has been so unkind to you?”
She sniffled into her useless lace handkerchief. I searched through my bag and pulled out two sensible linen ones. Dabbing at my own eyes, I handed her one. “I’ve taken to carrying an extra since I met you. Did Griffin tell you about the two men last night?”