unfairly.
There was nothing to tell Magda. So she drew her knees
up and wrapped her arms about them and enjoyed the
pastoral night view from her window.
After a length of silence, she heard Magda rise from
the bed and putter about the room, picking up clothes
and tidying. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she
muttered.
Cate sighed, balancing her chin on her knees. “I know”
“Where do we go from here?” Magda asked, after
another long pause.
Cate was surprised by the question. Up until now,
Magda had planned everything, from when they
launched their campaign to how they would gain a
foothold in the house. Of course Cate herself had had to
execute the plans.
Now, Cate realized, Magda didn’t have the information she had. Magda wasn’t privy to the details about
the curate.
“We stay. He’s sent for the curate. It will take a bit,
maybe a month, for the curate to travel down. His parish
is up in the north, outside of York. Then we shall see
what is necessary to secure our claim.”
That news seemed to please Magda. “A month of
soft living. Good beds, hot food. It’s a start”
Cate seized the moment. She was going to be in
charge here. She needed to assert herself, something she
didn’t hesitate to do except with Magda. It was time to
change that. “Yes, we have a month of good living
ahead of us. I intend to use it to full advantage and enjoy the opportunities available, starting tomorrow. I’m going to the ball as Lady Cate Winthrop, and I’m going
to have a good time,” she said firmly. “Moreover, I am
going to extend to Giles the courtesy he has extended to
me and behave civilly in his company. I hope that by doing so he’ll see my claim to Spelthorne as something
other than an act of revenge or anger at being cheated
out of a birthright.”
Magda paused in the doorway to the dressing room.
“Very well, have your fantasy of playing lady of the
manor but don’t forget who you are and what you’re
about when the time comes for the fantasy to be over.
Spelthorne has bought himself some time by deciding to
send for the curate. This gives him a month to gather his
resources and to plot. You must remember that always.”
“He’s not the only one who’s been bought time. We
have too. We need that time just as desperately”
Alone in his study, Giles idly flipped through a calendar. He had one month to uncover additional support
regarding his heritage. The curate-cum-vicar would be
a source of evidence when he arrived but Giles wanted
more.
Tristan and Alain had offered to stay up with him
and talk but he’d declined, preferring solitude to assess
his thoughts-thoughts which were filled with intriguing images of the day just spent. To be sure, the day had
been fraught with a certain tension. He’d had to make
Cate’s masquerade believable while mitigating Candice’s inquiries and sharp tongue.
Surprisingly, there had also been pleasure in the day.
There had been the moment when he’d spied Cate on
the landing coming down to join the throng that morning. He’d been captivated by the sight of her for long moments before he recalled who she was and reminded
himself why she was there. She’d looked elegant and
composed in the borrowed muslin and her hair twisted up
underneath her hat. She’d looked as if she belonged
among them.
There had been the gaiety of shopping through the
booths and a glimpse of Cate’s steely backbone. Remembering how she’d claimed a place at his side,
undaunted by Candice’s possessiveness still brought a
smile to his face. He could feel it spreading across his
mouth, and he chuckled to himself. It had been an easy
thing to spend money on her at the fair. The unfettered
delight and surprise at receiving the soap and ribbons
had thrilled him.
He’d bought Candice a ruby bracelet once, and she’d
politely thanked him with no more genuine warmth
than if he’d brought her a posy of violets. He
There was nothing to tell Magda. So she drew her knees
up and wrapped her arms about them and enjoyed the
pastoral night view from her window.
After a length of silence, she heard Magda rise from
the bed and putter about the room, picking up clothes
and tidying. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she
muttered.
Cate sighed, balancing her chin on her knees. “I know”
“Where do we go from here?” Magda asked, after
another long pause.
Cate was surprised by the question. Up until now,
Magda had planned everything, from when they
launched their campaign to how they would gain a
foothold in the house. Of course Cate herself had had to
execute the plans.
Now, Cate realized, Magda didn’t have the information she had. Magda wasn’t privy to the details about
the curate.
“We stay. He’s sent for the curate. It will take a bit,
maybe a month, for the curate to travel down. His parish
is up in the north, outside of York. Then we shall see
what is necessary to secure our claim.”
That news seemed to please Magda. “A month of
soft living. Good beds, hot food. It’s a start”
Cate seized the moment. She was going to be in
charge here. She needed to assert herself, something she
didn’t hesitate to do except with Magda. It was time to
change that. “Yes, we have a month of good living
ahead of us. I intend to use it to full advantage and enjoy the opportunities available, starting tomorrow. I’m going to the ball as Lady Cate Winthrop, and I’m going
to have a good time,” she said firmly. “Moreover, I am
going to extend to Giles the courtesy he has extended to
me and behave civilly in his company. I hope that by doing so he’ll see my claim to Spelthorne as something
other than an act of revenge or anger at being cheated
out of a birthright.”
Magda paused in the doorway to the dressing room.
“Very well, have your fantasy of playing lady of the
manor but don’t forget who you are and what you’re
about when the time comes for the fantasy to be over.
Spelthorne has bought himself some time by deciding to
send for the curate. This gives him a month to gather his
resources and to plot. You must remember that always.”
“He’s not the only one who’s been bought time. We
have too. We need that time just as desperately”
Alone in his study, Giles idly flipped through a calendar. He had one month to uncover additional support
regarding his heritage. The curate-cum-vicar would be
a source of evidence when he arrived but Giles wanted
more.
Tristan and Alain had offered to stay up with him
and talk but he’d declined, preferring solitude to assess
his thoughts-thoughts which were filled with intriguing images of the day just spent. To be sure, the day had
been fraught with a certain tension. He’d had to make
Cate’s masquerade believable while mitigating Candice’s inquiries and sharp tongue.
Surprisingly, there had also been pleasure in the day.
There had been the moment when he’d spied Cate on
the landing coming down to join the throng that morning. He’d been captivated by the sight of her for long moments before he recalled who she was and reminded
himself why she was there. She’d looked elegant and
composed in the borrowed muslin and her hair twisted up
underneath her hat. She’d looked as if she belonged
among them.
There had been the gaiety of shopping through the
booths and a glimpse of Cate’s steely backbone. Remembering how she’d claimed a place at his side,
undaunted by Candice’s possessiveness still brought a
smile to his face. He could feel it spreading across his
mouth, and he chuckled to himself. It had been an easy
thing to spend money on her at the fair. The unfettered
delight and surprise at receiving the soap and ribbons
had thrilled him.
He’d bought Candice a ruby bracelet once, and she’d
politely thanked him with no more genuine warmth
than if he’d brought her a posy of violets. He
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