“Maria is reminding me that she always said you were the husband for me.”
He laughed. “After Lord Armington, I believe.”
“Lord Armington was very charming,” Cassandra teased him.
“Be careful. I’m still not past the days of being jealous! What else does she have to say?” he asked.
“She says that she will give us what help she can to sell the town house,” she said, as her eyes scanned the page.
Justin threw down his quill.
“Are you sure you’re happy with this idea?” he asked. “Once it’s sold, we won’t be able to buy it back again.”
She uncurled herself and put the letter aside.
“Yes, I am. As long as you are not having second thoughts?”
“No. We can put the money to better use. Lizzie is almost sixteen now. She will be needing a season, with clothes and fans and everything else that goes with it. And our own children will be needing things soon. They are growing up.”
“Jay is four,” said Cassandra, with a quirk at the corner of her mouth, “and Victoria is three. And the baby is not yet one.”
“There you are, they will be needing horses before you know it,” he said, laughing. Then, becoming serious he said, “No regrets?”
“None,” said Cassandra.
She went over to the desk and put her arms round him, kissing him on the forehead.
He pulled her on to his lap and kissed her thoroughly on the lips.
“Mmm,” she said.
“And talking of our children, where are they?” he asked, as he reluctantly let her go.
“In the garden with Lizzie. They are making the most of the fine spell of weather.”
She looked out of the window at the sky. It had patches of blue, but already the clouds were gathering again. There had been a storm in the night, and it seemed as though they were in for more bad weather.
“You had better fetch them in,” said Justin, looking at the sky. “I think it’s going to rain heavily soon. It’s very different from the summer we met. I seem to remember it being sunny every day then.”
Cassandra straightened her gown and went out into the garden. She had filled out since she had met Justin, assuming a more matronly figure, but her eyes were as blue and her hair as golden as ever. She had given these attributes to Jason, their son, a little boy everyone called Jay, but Victoria had inherited her father’s dark hair and green eyes.
She saw little Jason now with Lizzie, sitting on one of the paths that ran through the shrubbery, but there was no sign of her daughter.
“Where’s Victoria?” she asked.
Lizzie looked up, and turned clear blue eyes on her sister.
She’s very beautiful, thought Cassandra with pride. Even more beautiful than I was at her age.
Lizzie’s figure was curvaceous, and had already caused interest amongst the local boys, but Cassandra meant Lizzie to have a wider choice of husband than was available in their own small neighbourhood. When the time came, Lizzie would have a London season—and perhaps find a handsome marquess!
“She was here a minute ago,” said Lizzie.
Cassandra looked round for her daughter, then saw her by the roots of the oak that had blown down in the night.
“It was lucky the tree was no nearer the house,” she said. “If it had landed on the roof, we would have had to spend a fortune in repairs.”
She went in search of her daughter, and soon saw her running towards her.
“What have you there?” said Cassandra, looking at the sparkly thing round Victoria’s neck. As she drew closer and scooped her daughter into her arms, her eyes grew wide.
“Victoria, where did you get this?” she asked.
Victoria waved an arm back in the direction of the oak tree.
“What is it?” asked Lizzie, standing up and dusting her hands, before joining her sister.
“I’m not sure,” said Cassandra.
Lizzie took Victoria.
“These look like rubies,” she said in surprise.
“I know.”
They looked at each other.
“You don’t think…” began Lizzie.
“I’m not thinking anything,” said Cassandra.
She went over to the toppled oak, closely followed by Lizzie. There, in a hole beneath the roots, was a treasure trove. Rubies, sapphires and diamonds winked in a ray of sunshine. Pewter plates were mingled with bracelets and necklaces, whilst goblets had strings of pearls spilling out of them.
Lizzie climbed into the hole and came out with an armful of gold and jewels.
“It’s the treasure,” she said.
“But it was buried beneath a chestnut tree,” said Cassandra uncomprehendingly. “Joseph’s journal said so.”
“But Joseph wasn’t a gardener,” said Lizzie, beginning to laugh. “He was like all the other Paxtons. He couldn’t tell one plant from another—or one tree either, it seems!”
“And all this time the treasure’s been lying here, just waiting to be found,” said Cassandra. “I must tell Justin. He’s about to write to his lawyer and tell him to go ahead with the house sale.”
“We won’t need to sell anything now,” said Lizzie, draping jewels around her neck. “I can have a wonderful season, with silks and satins and lace. Oh, Cassie, just think what it will mean. And I can wear the family jewels,” she said, picking up a diamond brooch.
“You are far too young for diamonds,” said Cassandra. “The brooch is mine!”
“Then I will have the pearls,” said Lizzie.
“An excellent choice. You can have them remodelled in the latest style.”
“And we can sell some of them,” said Lizzie. “There are so many we won’t notice. I can have new clothes, and so can you, Cassie.”
“And so can the children!” said Cassandra. “And not just clothes, but horses, too. Justin can fill the stables and the children can have ponies to ride.”
She scooped Victoria up in her arms.
“Come,” she said, “let’s show Papa what you’ve found.”
She carried the little girl back into the house.
“I find I’ve changed my mind about selling the Brighton house after all,” she said.
“Hm?” He did not look round.
She walked over to the desk and put Victoria in his lap.
“Hello, sweeting,” he said, kissing her on top of her head.
He still did not look up from his figures.
“I think we should keep it,” she said.
Victoria took the rubies from her own neck and hung them round her Papa’s.
“Pretty,” she said.
“Very nice,” he said absently, fingering the rubies. Then his fingers stilled. He took his eyes from his ledger and looked at the necklace, then looked up at Cassandra.
“Where…how…?” he asked.
“We’ve found the treasure.”
“No!”
“Yes. Under an oak tree!”
He sat back in his chair and laughed.
“An oak tree! So Joseph was no more a gardener than you are!”
“No.”
“But is there more?” he asked, fingering the rubies.
“Much, much more,” she said. “We’re rich. Just think what this will mean.”
“It means we will be busy,” he said.
“Yes, we will.” She picked up Maria’s letter. “I had better write to Maria. Instead of going to Brighton to visit her, I think she had better come here to visit us instead!”
Amanda Grange lives in Cheshire, England, and has written many novels including Darcy’s Diary and Captain Wentworth’s Diary. Visit her website at www.amandagrange.com.
Table of Contents
Books by Amanda Grange
CHAPTER ONE Miss Cassandra Paxton put on her spencer and settled her bonnet on her golden head, then turned to her maid. “Lord Deverill lives on the Steyne. It’s time for us to pay him a visit.” “I don’t like it,” grumbled Mol
l. “You was brought up proper, Miss Cassie. You shouldn’t be going visiting gennulmen on your own.” “I’m not on my own,” teased Cassandra as she picked up her parasol. “I’m with you.” She opened the door and the two of them stepped out into the summer morning. Standing on the top step, she breathed in deeply, inhaling the tang of salt that was carried to her on the breeze, and lifted her face skyward as the cry of gulls filled the air. “I’d forgotten how much I loved being in Brighton,” she said. “I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.” “That’s a fact. The house is in a muddle, being as how it was left shut up for a year,” said Moll, adding dourly, “It’s a wonder we haven’t got rats.” “Well, we haven’t,” said Cassandra, who was used to Moll’s grumblings and ign
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO My dearest Lizzie. It was later that day, in the early evening, and Cassandra was sitting in her bedroom at her Sheraton writing desk. She dipped her quill into the ink and then carried on with her letter. Moll and I had an exciting start to our visit when the wheel came off our coach. Fortunately, John managed to mend it temporarily and we were soon on our way, but it meant we arrived here later than we had expected, and after finishing the food we’d brought with us in the hamper, we went to bed. This morning John took the coach to be repaired properly and… She hesitated, and then, leaving out all mention of Lord Deverill, wrote: …Maria called on me. I am going to the assembly rooms with her this evening. Harry is taking us, and he has promised to dance with me. “Time to be getting dressed,” said Moll, entering the bed chamber with a can of hot water. Cassandra laid her quill aside and went into the dressing room, where Moll poured hot water into the porcelain bowl on the
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE “Lord Deverill,” she exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?” “You left the supper room very quickly,” he said, looking at her intently. “I wondered whether anything was the matter?” “No,” she said hurriedly. “Nothing at all.” He did not immediately reply, but by the way he was looking at her she could tell that he did not believe her. Then he said, “I wondered if Elwin had said anything to upset you.” “Of course not. What could he possibly say that would upset me?” She spoke with a show of bravado, but she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he was not deceived. She did not want to tell him what Mr. Elwin had said, however, because it was too humiliating. “I don’t know,” he replied. “That’s what I am asking you.” “He didn’t say anything,” she said defiantly. “In that case, why did you stand up in the middle of supper?” “Did I?” she prevaricated. “Yes. You did. You flushed, then looked angry, then half rose from your seat, as though you meant to walk
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR The following morning dawned bright and fair. Cassandra woke at five o’clock, with the sun streaming in at her window. She was used to country hours and, despite her late night at the assembly rooms, she had no desire to stay in bed. She rose, washed and dressed, and then went downstairs. Moll brought her a breakfast of chocolate and hot rolls and she ate it by the open window in the parlour. When she had finished she looked at the clock. She had almost four hours before Maria called for her, and she meant to put the time to good use. She had a lot to do if she wanted to prepare the house for sale. “I thought we would make a start on the attic today,” she said to Moll. “It will have to be cleaned at some time.” “You should hire some more servants, Miss Cassie,” grumbled Moll. “It’s more than the two of us can see to.” “You know there’s no spare money for servants. It has taken nearly everything we have just to come here. But we will manage.” She and Moll went down to the k
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE Despite her misgivings about Maria’s tendency to matchmake, Cassandra found herself looking forward to the soirée. It would be one of her last few chances to enjoy herself and she meant to make the most of it. She also had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to seeing Lord Deverill. She looked through her gowns, trying to decide which one would be the most appropriate for the evening. The white muslin she had already worn, which left the blue spotted muslin or the jonquil satin. Knowing how much Maria disliked the jonquil, she decided on the blue spot. It was a little short, but it was otherwise unexceptionable. Its short, puffed sleeves were edged with lace, and there was a matching row of lace decorating the high waistline. With a scoop neckline and a long, narrow skirt, it was fashionable enough, and with her blue satin shoes it would make a passable outfit. She slipped her chemise over her head then put on her drawers and corset, standing still whilst Moll
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX The same thoughts were troubling her the following morning. She had slept badly and awoken unrefreshed, so that she was only too glad to get up and start the day. Going downstairs, she went into the parlour. To her plea sure, she found something to break her low mood, because there, propped up on the breakfast table, was a letter. She recognized the scrawling handwriting at once. It was from her sister, Lizzie. She picked it up and carried it over to the window to read. A shaft of sunlight fell on the uneven letters, which trailed across the paper like a drunken spider. Each page was crossed and difficult to make out, but Cassandra at last managed to decipher it. “I’ve brung you chocolate and rolls,” said Moll, carrying a tray into the room. “Thank you, Moll.” “You’ve seen it, then?” she asked, setting the tray down on the table. “Yes,” said Cassandra, scanning the closely written pages. “Is she enjoying herself?” asked Moll. “Yes, very much. Sit down, I’ll read it to you,”
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN Cassandra’s thoughts were perturbed as she dressed for the picnic the following morning. “A picnic?” snorted Moll. “Just you make sure you sit on a blanket, Miss Cassie. I don’t hold with this sitting on the grass—it’ll be damp, I shouldn’t wonder—” “You needn’t worry about that. The picnic is to take place on the beach,” Cassandra said. “Nasty wet places, beaches,” said Moll. “You’ll catch your death of cold for sure. All this eating out of doors. Why can’t people eat inside like sensible bodies? You make sure you wear your shawl, and keep your gloves on. And mind you don’t get your feet wet. You’ll get your death from wet feet.” “I’ll keep them dry,” Cassandra promised her. “And make sure Miss Maria doesn’t neither. She was looking tired yesterday. I hope Mr. Harry’s taking care of her.” “He is,” said Cassandra. Having grumbled herself out, Moll disappeared to find Cassandra a handkerchief, for if her mistress departed without one then the heavens would surely fall. Cas
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT Cassandra passed a restless night and rose with the dawn. Moll, already awake and busy about the house, brought her hot water and helped her to dress. Cassandra made a poor breakfast crumbling her roll and leaving most of it on her plate, then said “I am going for a walk.” “I’ll just get my bonnet,” said Moll. “No,” said Cassandra. She wanted to be alone but knew that with someone trying to kill her, it wasn’t wise. Although Justin had told her he had set someone to watch over her, she did not want to take a risk of going out unaccompanied. “I’ll take John. Moll grumbled, but was content to let her mistress go out in John’s charge. Donning her spencer and bonnet, Cassandra left the house, but it was not to the sea front or the shops that she went. Instead she turned her steps towards the church where Rupert had been buried. She had not visited it since the day when, just over a year before, she had seen her brother laid to rest. There was an early morning mist, making eve
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE Cassandra set off early the following morning, before fashionable Brighton was astir. The coach rolled through the streets and out of town. The fields were fresh under the early morning sky, with dew still clinging to the grass. After the blue of the sea, it was refreshing to be surrounded by green fields again. They stopped once, at an inn, where they partook of a light luncheon, and then pressed on, reaching her house late in the afternoon. She felt a surge of happiness as the coach rolled in between the stone gateposts and wen
t up the drive, turning a last bend to reveal her much-loved home. It was a gentleman’s residence of ample proportions, and from a distance there was no sign of decay. Two storeys tall, it had large windows arranged symmetrically along the front. There was a small parapet concealing the bottom of the hipped roof, and there were windows set into the roof. They shed light on the servants’ quarters, although the quarters were now empty. The servants h
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN It was early evening by the time the coach rolled into Brighton once more. Cassandra instructed John to stop at Justin’s house on the Steyne. “You must come inside with me,” said Cassandra, as he opened the door and let down the step. “I can’t go in alone.” “I should think not, Miss Cassie,” said John, horrified at the mere thought of it. He closed the door behind her and the two of them approached Justin’s house. Cassandra rapped on the door. A moment later Manby appeared, looking as haughty as ever. When he saw her, he relented slightly. “Yes, miss?” he said. “I am here to see Lord Deverill.” “I’m sorry, miss, but Lord Deverill is not at home.” “Not at home?” This was a blow. “No, miss He has gone out for the evening.” “Do you know what time he will be back?” she asked. “No, miss, I’m afraid I don’t.” “In that case, would you give him a message for me?” “Of course, miss” “Would you ask him to call on me at his earliest convenience?” “Yes, miss. I’ll give him the message a
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN Cassandra found herself looking forward to Anne’s ball. She had spent the time since her return from her estate in cleaning the remaining rooms, beating the rugs and polishing the furniture, so that now the house was ready for sale. As soon as the ball was over, she meant to speak to her lawyer and make the necessary arrangements. It was good to have the ball to look forward to, a cheerful event to offset the gloom of parting with her house. She had no new gowns to wear, having worn every respectable dress she possessed, and so she had accepted Maria’s loan of a dress. The two of them were almost the same size, and although Cassandra was the taller of the two, the dress had swept the floor on Maria so that, as Cassandra looked in the cheval glass on the evening of the ball, she was pleased to see that it still reached the ground on her. It was made of pink silk, with a pretty trim of roses round the high waist, and a cluster of roses on the short, puffed sleeve. To match