“I can help you.”
Seth sneered. “Out of the goodness of your heart, I imagine.”
“Think logically. Work for me. Put your mind to good use,” Lord Bolderwood said. “In return, I’ll settle the Cooper’s accounts and pay you handsomely enough that the little chit will want for nothing.”
“Never pegged you as a man who would resort to bribery.”
“This isn’t bribery. It’s a negotiation,” Lord Bolderwood said. “I had the maids do a thorough check ofCassandra’sbedchamber this morning. Would you care to know what else was found?”
He brought forth two more pieces of parchment and laid them face up, exposing Seth’s own handwriting, and he already knew what both would say.Come to my bedchamber.The color drained from his face as he recognized his folly. Too late. Toolate. Damn it all!
“This page and theselove letterswill paint quite the picture for the Viscount. Does he know of the affections you harbor for his sister?” Lord Bolderwood spread the papers across the table with one fluid movement of his hand. “After your morning scuffle withCooper, and your recent nighttime activities, I doubt he will be understanding.”
Lord Bolderwood gathered the pages and made a show of setting them in his top desk drawer, turning a key, locking the drawer with a resoundingclick.
“I’ll give you time to consider your options. You’re dismissed.”
Chapter Seventeen
Cassandra slept through most of the next morning, awakening only when a trio of maids came inside her bedchamber. In their arms, they carried lavish crystal vases overflowing with white and red roses.
“From the Lord of the Manor, my lady. Wanted to brighten up the room, he did.” An older woman with grey hair tied in a severe chignon tutted about her. “My name is Mrs. Groves, I’m the housekeeper. If you’ll be needing anything at all ring the bell and we’ll see to it straightaway.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Ah.” Mrs. Groves smiled. “That must be the breakfast tray.”
She opened the door with a hand on her hip. Outside stood a brown-haired young boy with black boots reflecting a brilliant shine, holding in his hand a bouquet of daisies. No.Feverfew. Bouquet being a generous description, she noted with a half smile. The handful of white blooms were mostly stems and leaves, freshly rooted from soil, and bound with what suspiciously looked likeherhair ribbon.
With a look of distaste, Mrs. Groves tried to shoo him away.
“My master said to give these to the Miss directly.” The boy stood unmoving at the threshold and peaked his head through the door, undeterred by the four feminine gazes eying him with mixed stares of interest and admonishment.
“Not in a lady’s bedchamber, you’re not.” Mrs. Groves moved to shut the door. The boy put his boot in the doorway to stop it fromclosing.
“I will not be swayed from my mission, Margaret!” He puffed out his chest.
Using the back of her hand, Mrs. Groves gave the boy a solid smack on the side of his head, then blushed as she remembered Cassandra in the room. “Apologies for his impertinence, my lady. He’s normally well behaved, but he’s recently fallen in with a bad influence.”
“Apologize for your own impertinence,” the boy grumbled, rubbing his head.
Mrs. Groves raised her hand again. “Out! Or I’ll box your ears!”
“It’s all right.” Cassandra laughed. Surprised, the housekeeper paused. Cassandra sat up and extended her hand. “He can bring them to me.”
With a haughty expression that Cassandra was sure would land him extra duties, the boy bowed, flower petals falling to the floor with the movement. Marching into the room with his head high, he placed the bouquet in her hands. With a flourish, he brought forth a simple card from his coat pocket.
A skipping sensation came over her as she read the words.
‘Wishing you good health.’
Taking the boy by the shoulders, Mrs. Groves hurled him from the room.
“There will be no more of that.” She huffed. “Pass alongthatmessage to your ‘master.’”
With the boy gone, Mrs. Groves closed the door.
Cassandra asked,“Will you put these in a vase?”
