Page 62 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“It’s nothing,” I replied.

She stared at me for a long moment then in silence. Finally, her eyes widened.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” she said slowly. “You are Iris.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A dull roar filled my ears. I tried to smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cassie,” I said, as lightly as possible. “I should leave you to your morning.”

I took a step forward, but Cassie blocked my path.

“I thought it was you,” she murmured, her eyes travelling over every inch of my face. “When you walked in the room and Tookes dropped that glass. I almost did the same thing. It’s the eyes…”

“Cassie,” I said more firmly, “I don’t know if this is some sort of joke, but if it is, then I’m not sure I understand it, and I’d like to go to my room.”

I made to move past her.

“You told me about it, you know,” she said quietly. “The hiding place in the chimney. It was not long after we arrived, you were trying to help me feel excited about my new home, and you told me there was a secret compartment inside the chimney. You just never told me exactly where.”

I closed my eyes. She was right; I had done that, I remembered it now.

“Sophia says you ride like you were born in the saddle.” Cassie took another step towards me. “I bet you swim like a fish too. I always said that there was no chance Iris Scott-Holland would ever drown in that river.”

“Just like there was no chance your stepfather would ever fall from his horse?” I challenged, the words falling from my lips before I could claw them back.

Cassie’s eyes flared.

“I have to go,” I said, the words brusque, my whole body rigid.

“Don’t,” Cassie said, but this time I pushed past her, the bundle from the chimney still in my hands, heading as calmly as I could manage for my room. My heart was hammering wildly as I climbed the stairs. There was no sound to indicate that Cassie was following me. When I reached the door to my bedroom, I could barely turn the handle, my hands were shaking so much.

There was cold water in a pitcher by the nightstand and I cleaned my face and hands, washing away the soot, and relishing the coolness on my skin which felt hot and clammy.

What was I going to do?

Cassie knew. She knew. Would she tell anyone? Of course she would! She was probably telling her mother right now. What would Helena do when she found out? My blood chilled.

She was so close to being rid of me for ever and laying claim to my fortune. In only a couple of weeks she’d have me declared dead. What lengths would she go to in order to keep me out of the way?

It wouldn’t be wise to stick around and find out. I remembered her face the day my father died, the spark in her eyes. That look of triumph.

I paced the room. My mind felt at once frozen, unable to make any kind of decision as to how to act next, and frantic, an endless series of questions and recriminations piling up on top of one another, a noisy clamour in my head.

My eyes settled on the wrapped object that I had salvaged from the chimney and I stilled. Here, at least, was something I could do. In fact, I had better open it at once, before Helena came bursting in.

I wrenched the wrapping away with rather less care than I might otherwise have done.

Inside was a small bundle of letters, tied with a ribbon.

I didn’t recognize the writing on the front. I flicked gingerly through the envelopes. They were all from the same person. I opened the first one. It was written on headed paper in a swirling hand. I scanned it rapidly, spotting a familiar name.

My Lord –

With regards to the alterations you propose, we can see no issue with amending the document as you desire. If you could attend an appointment at our offices in Rochester at your earliest convenience, we would be happy to see you.

Yours faithfully,