“Yes?” She turned to Jasmine, still in the doorway, affection shiningin her eyes.
“I’m so glad that you’re here.”
“I am too.” Cassandra smiled and found that she meant it.
With a kiss on the cheek and a pull on the bell rope to summon a lady’s maid to help her dress, Jasmine left Cassandra alone in the bedchamber. In short order, a lady’s maid bathed and dressed her in a powder-blue satin evening dress with elbow-length white gloves. It was lucky to have made the trip unscathed, and even more that she fit into the dress at all with how long it had been since she had worn it.
She gazed at her reflection in the mirror and bit her lip. The Cooper’s mourning period had ended in June officially, but it felt strange to wear brighter colors. The greys and lavenders that had been functional at Cooper House were unacceptable here where she would need to stand out. And with the low cut of her dress, she couldn’t help but feel exposed and flamboyant, even knowing that she would appear dowdy compared to the rest of the guests.
Cassandra finished fixing the last pin in her hair to tame the curl that always gave her trouble when she heard the heavy sound of footsteps in the hall. Matthew. Her eyes shot to the clock on the mantel. Hours had gone by! He must have been busy indeed if he were only now finishing with the Earl. Cassandra moved to greet him, but when she opened her door, she met the ultramarine eyes of Mr. Reeves, shining brightly through a coating of dust on sun-reddened skin.
“Miss Cooper?” His eyes widened, and he quickly bowed to her. A brown leather rucksack slid from his shoulder with the movement and dirt rained onto the floor surrounding him. He tugged the bag back into place as he stood and marveled at her.
“You look lovely in blue.” His tone was soft, as it had been in the tree when he had told her she could trust him, that he wouldn’t let her fall, and again when he had held onto her and… Heat collected in the tips of her ears as she banished the image.
He looked anything but lovely.
A trail of footprints lead from the servants’ stairs across a worn section of carpet to the bedchamber door. His black hair was filthy and dull in the low light. He wore rumpled clothes, and wiry white and red horsehair covered his trousers. Not that she was looking at his trousers! She hastened to redirect her gaze to his face.
She smiled sweetly. “You look like you’ve been mauled by a dog.”
He barked a laugh.
“You never properly greet me, have you noticed that?” Mr. Reeves opened his bag and rummaged inside, hand emerging with a brass key adorned with an ornate H.
“Did you drive your own carriage?”
“Carriage?” He laughed again while placed the key in the lock and turned the curved handle. “I rode here.”
“All the way from Cooper House?” Her mouth fell open. “You could have accompanied us in the carriage!”
“And deprive Sabre of his morning routine?” He tsked twice and opened the door.
“What about your belongings?”
“Everything I need is in this room,” he said, taking a step through the door, “and in this bag.” He tapped the bag at his waist with an open hand. A cloud of dust had her coughing and waving her hand in front of her face. “I hate to leave you in the hall, but I need a wash and a change of clothes if I’m to be ready by dinner. Lord Bolderwood abhors tardiness, and I would rather not be the subject of his ire again in such a short amount of time.”
He moved to close the door.
“Wait!” She slammed her palm on the door to keep it open. His eyes widened with bewilderment and he stopped. She continued, “You must be mistaken. That’s Matthew’s bedchamber. He should be finishing up with the Earl soon and will want to settle in. You’ll haveto find another bedchamber.”
“Cooper is settled into a bedchamber downstairs.” His eyebrows furrowed. “And I can assure you that I’m not mistaken. I’m also not moving. This ismybedchamber.” He peeked his head around her to gaze down the hallway. “Where is your chaperon?”
“Matthewis my chaperon.” She huffed. “You can’t sleep in the bedchamber next to me, it isn’t proper.”
“I’ve shared ahousewith you for three months!” He threw his hands into the air, the satchel swung back with the movement. He dropped it onto the floor.
“Not so loud!” she hissed. “It’s not the same in the slightest.” She let her hand fall to her side. “There are rules, Mr. Reeves. Rules are in place for a reason.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to move.” He shrugged. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash up Miss Cooper.” Before he closed the door, with a wolfish smile, he asked, “Or should I say,neighbor?”
Chapter Six
Aside from some obvious airing out, everything was right where he left it, his bedchamber untouched by man or time other than with a broom. Mud-grey woolen drapes hung heavy next to windows crossed by iron bars. The last vestiges of the fading sunlight clung to the sharp edges of the room. Against the wall he shared with Cassandra, a bare-bones bed was smothered by a blanket cut from the same cloth as the drapes. Or so he had sworn when he was a child, after the fibers scraped his fragile skin raw when he curled them tightly around himself on countless freezing nights.
That he had a bed at all to sleep in should have made him grateful. Many others in his situation had been less fortunate. Boys like him found their way into work-houses, or selling cigar butts and stolen buttons on the streets—or selling something much worse. They didn’t end up on the second story of a nobleman’s mansion with tutors, barred windows, and an accelerated path to a commission in the Royal Army.
Lord Bolderwood had been generous, but never lenient. Study and rigorous adherence to orders earned comfort and amenities, but the slightest mishap resulted in revoked privileges if he was lucky, and bread and water punishments if he was not. And often, he was not. Back then, all he wanted to do was escape. Now that he was back in this room as an adult, he felt overcome by the same sensation.