Free A Necessary Deception by Laurie Alice Eakes Page B

Lydia asked.
    “She’s not upstairs,” Honore volunteered. “I haven’t seen her for hours.”
    “Hours?” Lydia gripped the banister and took a deep breath to stop herself from screeching. “Why didn’t you tell me she wasn’t ready?”
    “Perhaps she is.” Honore shrugged. “I was in the music room playing the pianoforte and thought Cassandra had changed into riding dress before me.”
    “Could she have gone out on her own?” Whittaker’s lips tightened. “She wouldn’t, would she?”
    “Not for a minute.” Lydia finished descending the steps and patted his arm. “She’s in the house somewhere.”
    “But did she not hear us knock?” De Meuse raised his brows. “I noticed she had the myopia, but—”
    Lydia laid a finger across her lips. She couldn’t believe Whittaker hadn’t noticed that Cassandra barely saw more than a blur a yard from her face, but she thought he knew nothing and, for whatever reason, wished to keep it that way. It wasn’t Lydia’s or anyone else’s secret to share.
    The notion that de Meuse had noticed without even spending time with Cassandra sent a chill rippling along Lydia’s arms, and she flashed a glance at Whittaker. He was speaking to Lemster and hadn’t apparently heard de Meuse.
    “I’ll find her.” Lydia gathered up her train and mounted the steps.
    A glance into the sitting room warned her that the hour approached with rapidity. If they didn’t find Cassandra and depart within the next few minutes, Barnaby and Frobisher would arrive.
    She wished. She doubted.
    Her heart as heavy as the extra long skirt of her woolen riding habit, Lydia pushed open the library door. She expected to see Cassandra bent over the desk with pen, ink, and half a dozen books in front of her. But the desk chair stood empty, the surface of the table clear of all but ink and quills. A quick glance hinted at an empty room. Lydia was about to close the door and search elsewhere when she caught the soft rustle of paper.
    “Cassandra?”
    A thud sounded from the far corner of the room, behind one of the long draperies that half covered the windows. “Who—? Oh.” Cassandra’s pale face showed from around the edge of the crimson velvet curtains that formed an alcove with a window seat. “I didn’t hear you come in. Did you need me for something?”
    “We were scheduled for a ride in the park fifteen minutes ago.” Lydia spoke in an even tone with her jaw tight to stop herself from shouting.
    “I thought we weren’t going until—dear me.” Cassandra rubbed her eyes. “I misread the clock. I’m sorry. Give me ten minutes more. I’ll be ready.”
    Ten minutes more would take them too close to eleven o’clock.
    “I’ll see if Whittaker wishes to wait.” Not daring to say more, Lydia spun on her heel and marched down the steps to the waiting group.
    The waiting group, and Frobisher and Barnaby just entering through the front door.
    Lydia sagged against the banister. “Cassandra will be delayed. Do you wish to wait for her, Whittaker?”
    “Of course I’ll wait.” Whittaker’s smile was indulgent, his eyes patient. “She read the clock wrong, right?”
    “Precisely. Good day, gentlemen.” Lydia turned her attention to the newcomers, her smile fixed. “Monsieur de Meuse, allow me to present Mr. George Barnaby and Mr. Gerald Frobisher. Though I expect the three of you are already acquainted, are you not?”
    “We are not.” De Meuse’s tone was cold, his posture stiff.
    Barnaby gave her an equally frosty glare and didn’t so much as nod to le comte. “We had an appointment, did we not, Lady Gale?”
    “So did Madame Gale and I.” De Meuse looked down his high-bridged nose at the shorter man.
    “I tried to tell you, Mr. Barnaby . . . I prefer to ride with my sisters.” Lydia glanced at her younger sister. “I couldn’t allow Honore to ride out alone with anyone I don’t know well enough to trust.”
    Honore might as well have been alone in the entryway