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Despite the warmth of the cheerfully-lit inn, he saw her shiver as she carried the dressing case inside. Poor girl, she had borne up far better than he could have expected. Most delicately raised young women of his acquaintance would have had the vapours inside five minutes, but then, he was forgetting just what a child she was. He patted her arm. ‘Bear up, Cassie, we’re nearly there. By this time tomorrow you’ll be safe with Mama.’
‘I’m not… I’m enjoying myself, this is an adventure,’ she said stiffly. ‘I just realised how close to the end of it we are. But you’ll be glad. You’ll leave me in Paris and go off and I’ll learn to be female again.’
‘Ah, well.’ He paused in the act of tying a clean neckcloth, aware that a slight smile of anticipation was curving his lips. ‘I intend enjoying Paris to the full. I think I deserve a little diversion after playing the governess.’
Cassie snapped back, ‘Have I been such a burden then? After all, it was your idea to bring me!’
Now what? It seemed he couldn’t do right for doing wrong in her eyes. ‘You ungrateful brat.’ He swung round, fists on hips, to regard her coldly. ‘I would have left you on the doorstep if you hadn’t threatened to throw yourself in the Thames.’
‘It wasn’t that at all,’ she flared, inexplicably angry. ‘After your valet broke his leg, it simply suited your convenience to bring me with you. But, of course,’ she added sarcastically, ‘I should have realised, you’re regretting not going to stay with Aunt Augusta and meeting the eligible Miss Hare.’
‘If nothing else, Miss Hare would be more amenable,’ he said, holding on to his temper by a thread.
‘And such a suitable match.’
‘You provoking brat.’ He seized her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. ‘You ungrateful, ungracious…’
‘You needed a valet.’ Cassie struggled, but only succeeded in making him tighten the hold. ‘If I hadn’t come with you, you wouldn’t be here now. So don’t try to pretend you did it out of the goodness of your heart. It suited your purposes, that’s all.’ Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted, the blue eyes flashed with temper.
Nicholas felt his own eyes narrow as he studied the angry face raised to his. ‘How old did you say you were, Cassandra?’
‘Fifteen,’ she stammered.
‘Old enough to be trouble.’ He dropped his hands and stepped back. ‘I suggest you curb your temper in future dealings with gentlemen. Some might take it as a provocation.’
‘And you wouldn’t?’ she threw at him.
Heaven help me… ‘All you provoke me to, brat, is an urge to paddle your britches! Come on, I need my dinner.’
The next day’s journey from Amiens to Paris was accomplished in an atmosphere of cool politeness. She suspected that Nicholas knew that he had gone too far, just as she had, but it seemed neither was prepared to admit it and apologise.
If she had thought the formalities at Calais irksome, they were much worse at the gates of Paris, where officials of the Bureau du Roi examined the carriage and its contents at tiresome length.
‘Why don’t you bribe them?’ Cassandra enquired irritably, tired of being jostled by the importuning crowd of touts and trinket sellers who had descended on the travellers.
‘I am more inclined to hire a new valet from amongst those offering their services,’ Nicholas remarked, gesticulating at the crowd of smartly-dressed young men who noisily proffered references from previous employers.
‘They’re wearing earrings,’ Cassandra observed censoriously.
‘But no doubt they can tie a cravat.’
Her smouldering silence lasted just as long as her first glimpse of the Seine and the sight of the fashionable quarters where the great houses of the nobility still existed, despite the Revolution.
At first, Cassandra was enthralled, but after a few minutes she turned to Nicholas, her nose wrinkled with disgust. ‘It’s filthy. Just look at the mud. And there are no pavements. See that lady there.’ She pointed to an elegantly-dressed woman hopping from one stepping stone to another, her gown gathered up. ‘And it is so noisy and crowded.’
‘I believe it is reckoned to be the most populous city in Europe,’ Nicholas remarked. ‘But there are compensations. When my mother begins to take you about, you will enjoy the gardens and the shops, no doubt.’ He spoke absently. Cassandra was convinced he had all but forgotten her now they were almost at his uncle’s house and he could be rid of her.
‘And what will you do?’
‘Meet with friends, play cards, go to the opera,’ he said vaguely. Cassandra noticed the way his head turned to watch a handsome young woman promenading slowly along the edge of the Tuileries gardens.
Cassandra ran her hand through her tumbled curls and twitched her neckcloth into some sort of order, ready to meet her godmother. What a pity it is, she thought, that a nice boy who rescued kittens from trees should grow up to be frivolous, bad tempered, arrogant…
‘Why are you frowning, Cassie? And try at least to stop sulking. We’re here. If you look like that my mother will pack you straight back to your father.’
The postillions wheeled their horses to swing through the elaborate ironwork gates of the porte cochere of a great hotel. Immediately servants ran into the wide cobbled courtyard to fling open the carriage doors and let down the steps.
Cassandra climbed down and stood looking around her, mouth half open at the magnificence of the classical pilasters and the regular ranks of many-paned windows.
