Page 55 of The Damsel
Striding up to the front door, he made use of the knocker and stood back. A moment later, a footman appeared.
“Good morning. Is Lady Cassandra at home?”
“I apologize, but my lady is not here.”
He frowned, wondering where she could have gone so soon after leaving Briarwell. Only a few hours had passed, which meant she had already decided to leave Suffolk from the moment they parted ways. Or, had she instructed her servants to tell him that should he arrive on her doorstep?
“I see,” he replied, holding up the cloak. “I came to return this … she accidentally left it behind after the party last night. Will you ensure she knows I brought it back?”
The man accepted the cloak, giving Robert a knowing look. He, along with the rest of the household, must know that their lady had been gone the entire evening, not returning until morning. He wondered how many of them knew or suspected she’d spent the night in his bed.
“Thank you,” he replied.
Going back the way he’d come, he released a low, long sigh. He could not determine if he was more relieved, or disappointed.
He paused on the path, glancing toward the small stable where a man and a young boy worked to groom a black Arabian. Within the open doors of the structure he spotted Cassandra’s carriage. A carriage she ought to have taken if she had really departed for London.
It was none of his affair, and she’d made it clear his interference would no longer be tolerated. Yet, as he stood there wondering where she was, a premonition niggled down his spine. Something did not feel right about any of this. The grievous state she’d been in last night had meant something, just as her sudden disappearance did. Try as he might, he couldn’t brush it off as being none of his business.
Before he could change his mind, he set off toward the stable, determination quickening his strides.
The man glanced up as he approached, while the boy went on chattering about some thing or another while he brushed the Arabian’s tail.
“Somethin’ I can do for you, sir?”
Robert’s gaze flitted to the carriage again. Had she really gone to London, or was she hiding from him inside the cottage? He had to know.
“I came looking for Lady Cassandra, only to be informed she has departed for Town. After the events of last night, I am concerned about her. She was … not well.”
The man stood up straighter, casting a glance at the stable boy. “Leon, go into the kitchen and ask Mrs. Ingram if you can have a bite to eat. I’ll come get you when I need you again.”
The boy silently obeyed, throwing his brush into a bucket of grooming tools before dashing off toward the house. The man then turned back to Robert, leveling a suspicious glare at him.
“You the one that sent me home without m’lady last night?”
So, this man was Cassandra’s driver, then. Strange, that he was here when she was supposedly in London.
“That’s right,” he replied. “She was most distraught, and I did not feel right letting her leave alone.”
The man approached, shoulders squared. “And just what did you do to her?”
Robert shook his head. “No, it was nothing like that. The dinner party was going quite well until one of our guests mentioned that Lady Downing had died in a tragic accident. She did not take the news well.”
The driver started, eyes going wide as he stared at Robert in disbelief. What was it about Lady Downing that threw Cassandra and her driver into a panic?
“Lady Downin’, you say?” the driver asked, his voice gone hoarse.
“Yes, that’s right. I thought perhaps they were friends, because Lady Cassandra was near inconsolable about it. I just want to know that she is all right. She still seemed … not herself this morning.”
In truth, she’d seemed more herself than ever—brusque and cold.
But, the abrupt change overnight had confounded him.
Running both hands through a messy mop of overgrown hair, the driver uttered a vicious string of oaths. Seeming to remember who he was standing before, he flushed.
“Forgive me, sir. I … I didn't know about Lady Downin’. This does explain things.”
His heartbeat sped up, his palms breaking out into a sweat as he realized he’d been right to worry. “Explains what? Please, you have to tell me something … anything that might shed some light on what is happening. I’m worried about her.”
