Page 57 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

My first instinct was to turn and run away rather than answer the question, but I forced myself to remember that as far as Cassie was concerned, I was Serena Fox and getting married was pretty much my reason for being.

“I hope, when the time comes,” I said, “that I will be very happy being married.”

After all, despite Father’s disastrous second marriage (a marriage that ends in murder can hardly be said to be a success, can it?), his relationship with my mother had been a different story. They’d been happy … hadn’t they?

I cast my mind back for memories of the two of them together, and could land on nothing tangible. It seemed in my mind as if they were two totally separate entities. Still, I supposed that made sense. I had been so young.

“I would never marry someone,” I said, the thought only becoming clear to me as I said it, “if I couldn’t trust them with my happiness.”

Cassie only made a low humming sound in the back of her throat.

“You said you had no interest in being married?” I asked.

“That’s right.” Cassie nodded.

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right person yet?” I said carefully.

Cassie grinned. “It’s not that,” she replied with confidence. “I just don’t have those type of feelings for people. I never have done.”

“What do you mean?”

“When people talk about romance, attraction, that sort of thing, or when I read about it in a book, I find I can’t quite understand it – I struggle to imagine those feelings.” She shrugged. “It used to worry me, but now I don’t mind. Thanks to my stepfather, I have an inheritance that affords me a lot of freedom, and when I turn twenty-one my mother can’t stop me from using the money. I shall be an exceedingly happy woman, travelling and studying to my heart’s content. I suppose I might marry one day – if anything changes – but the choice is mine, and I know I’m fortunate in that respect. There are plenty of women like me who won’t get such a say in their own lives.”

I looked at her for a long moment. Cassie had described her life in such clear terms, with poise and certainty. We both knew that it was largely my father’s money that gave her that privilege – it was hardly a typical situation for a young woman – but still, I admired her self-assurance.

“Your plans sound wonderful to me,” I said. “Where would you like to study? In London?”

Cassie nodded. “To begin with.” The gleam in her eye and the tilt of her chin let me know that these were just the start of her plans.

“Well, that explains the enormous stack of books.” I gestured to the pile she was holding.

“I know,” Cassie sighed. “And these aren’t even the ones I’m supposed to be collecting today. We’re going to need some help getting them back to the carriage. Perhaps we should have held on to Lord Wynter.”

In the end, it took Cassie, Sophia, Matilda and me, as well as the shop assistant, to carry all of Cassie’s well-wrapped parcels to the carriage, where we handed them off to the footman and the groom.

“Agatha must be done by now,” Cassie said. “Let’s go and collect her and have a cup of tea.”

“An excellent idea,” I said, as the two started walking over in the direction of the dressmakers’. “I’ll be right behind you.”

It took me only seconds to tear into the parcel I had been clutching since we left the bookshop. A book – of course. I turned it over in my hands so that I could read the title.

Bees and Beekeeping, Vol.1

I huffed a little laugh as I opened the cover. Inside in a scrawling hand was an inscription.

For your recent interest … in bees.

N

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

It was rather later in the afternoon than we had anticipated by the time we arrived home. Cassie had guided us to the local tearoom where they made a particularly good pudding-pie, a custard tart filled with nutmeg and sherry-soaked raisins, and we had spent a happy hour there, drinking tea and talking. The only cloud on the horizon had been Agatha, and she was really more of an oncoming thunderstorm.

At first, she had largely ignored us, looking around for people she knew; then she had grown bored and decided to give us a lengthy description of everything she had purchased that day, down to the last pin. This too was not so bad, because I simply let her voice wash over me and focused on the delicious pie in front of me – it deserved my full attention.

My concentration drifted back in, just in time to hear her say to Sophia in a low, musical voice, “Of course, I should be mortified to be seen in it, but you’re so much more resilient! To think how little you care for keeping up with fashion, or what others say about you … well, I think it’s brave, I really do!”

Sophia had no choice but to thank Agatha for her kind words while Agatha smiled like a shark, showing her teeth. I could feel my own teeth grinding, but I forced myself to say nothing, crumbling the remaining pastry in my hands to dust.