The Time Baroness (The Time Mistress Series) by Georgina Young- Ellis Page B

clothes!”
    “I have been out hunting with my brother, sir,” said the boy. “The manor house keeps an excellent stable and hounds. Upon my visit to you, I mentioned that you must join us one day and take advantage. I could not mean that more sincerely. We are going out tomorrow morning again, will you join us?”
    Mr. Johnston glanced at Cassandra. They’d been scheduled to practice together in the morning. She gave the slightest nod of her head and smiled. He returned his gaze to Jeffrey. “I should like nothing better. Thank you for the invitation.”
    “Fine! Does nine o’clock suit you?”
    “Perfectly.”
    “My brother’s bitch has recently whelped eight gorgeous pups. The finest hunting hounds anywhere. Perhaps he would be willing to make you a gift—”
    “Jeffrey!” screeched Lady Holcomb. “Will you please stop haranguing Mr. Johnston about hounds and hunting and go change your clothes!”
    “Yes, mother,” he grinned and bounded off.
    “Goodness, what a troublesome boy,” she said looking after him, her voice full of affection.
    Once Jeffrey was dry and suitably coifed, the group sat down to dinner with Cassandra seated next to him, and Jane next to Mr. Johnston, who was diagonal from Cassandra. Lady Holcomb presided at the head. Talk proceeded along the lady’s favorite topics of weather, neighbors, servants, roses, and gardening. Then, while Jeffrey and his mother returned to the subject of his impending naval career, Cassandra and Mr. Johnston fell into talk about music and composers. Jane was listening eagerly.
    After dinner, Lady Holcomb suggested that Jane perform. The young woman leaned forward as she played without taking her eyes from her music book. The piece she’d chosen was not difficult by Cassandra’s standards, but she executed it well. The American glanced at Mr. Johnston seated near her on a rose-pink chair. He was absorbed in watching the performer, smiling and nodding.
    Next, Lady Holcomb asked Cassandra to oblige them on the instrument. She declined at first, but was urged so much by the lady and by Mr. Johnston that she finally assented, settling on a few simple pieces from her repertoire.
     After the performance, the friends chatted until Cassandra excused herself. The weather was not improving, she noted, and she ought to get home. Mr. Johnston agreed, and so the party broke up in spite of the protests of the hostess. As he escorted Cassandra from the cottage door to her carriage under his umbrella, he had a chance to utter the words, “Tomorrow afternoon, then.” She tilted her head in agreement and accepted his hand for the coach step.
******
    With June almost halfway over, Cassandra rode out often on horseback around the countryside, accompanied by Jimmy, the Merriweather’s great-nephew. He was a quiet boy of twelve years, not given to conversation, which suited Cassandra. On a particularly sunny Thursday, they had ridden to visit one of the farmers’ wives that Cassandra was beginning to get to know well. The visit had lasted longer than Cassandra had planned, and now she was rushing back for an afternoon practice session with Benedict (as she now called Mr. Johnston), pressing Daisy to a slow cantor. Jimmy came up behind her, holding his own reins with one hand and munching an apple with the other. They had passed Gatewick House on the way and she found herself wishing she could just stop off there for practice rather than having to meet Benedict each time at Sorrel Hall. She hopped off in front of her stables and turned Daisy over to Jimmy.
    She hurried into the sitting room while pulling off her bonnet. Benedict was sitting coolly in a chair, absorbed in a copy of Tom Jones that she’d left on a table. He looked up at her, amused. “This is a fascinating bit of fiction you have been partaking of.”
    Heat crept up over her neck and face. “Yes, it is not what I usually read, but I have been finding it…interesting.”
    He stared at her, eyes twinkling,