Page 86 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

Serena Fox was engaged. As far as Stefan was concerned, I had agreed to marry him, and in order to dole out the punishment he deserved I was going to have to pretend to be excited about it, to pretend that I actually liked the man. I glanced at Matilda, laying out my clothes.

“Matilda,” I said hesitantly. “When you asked me about the prince before, you seemed a bit concerned about whether I was going to be alone with him. Was there any particular reason for that?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “No, miss,” she replied, her eyes on the floor.

“Because if there was anything … if he had upset you or behaved inappropriately, you could tell me. I’d want you to tell me. I’d believe you, and I’d do something about it.”

She lifted her head sharply at that and regarded me with thoughtful eyes. There was a long silence, and she chewed her bottom lip.

“I’ve not had much to do with him,” she said finally. “But there’s talk going round the servants’ hall. He’s been a bit too friendly with some of the maids. Nothing dire, you understand, just suggestive. Free with his hands. There’s one girl, Lottie, says he got a bit fresh with her.”

“Sounds dire enough to me,” I said grimly.

Matilda shrugged. I hated that shrug. I had given that shrug myself. “You know what these house parties can be like,” she sighed. “There are a lot of men who think their position gives them certain liberties.”

Unfortunately, I did know what she meant. While living in the city, I’d come up against my fair share of men who felt they were entitled to take what they liked. I wondered if I would have known about any of it if I’d remained a sheltered society miss. Did Agatha and Cassie know what was going on in their home? Probably not.

“Well, you tell the rest of the girls that if anything happens that they don’t like, they can always come to me. I’ll do what I can to protect them.”

“Yes, miss, but Lord Wynter already said the same thing.” Matilda gave me a small smile. “No offence, but I think he’s a lot scarier than you.”

“You’d be surprised how scary I can be.” I grinned at her. Then I pushed back the bed covers. “Now, let’s see what this day brings.”

“I understand there’s going to be a tennis tournament, miss,” Matilda said. “Several of the guests are already up practising.”

I groaned. Riding and swimming were my sports – tennis was decidedly not. “Save me from organized fun. A tennis tournament? What’s wrong with reading a book?”

Matilda tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile. “I’ve laid out your tennis suit,” she said. “At least you’ll look pretty as a picture.”

I observed the outfit sourly. Of course Nick had been prepared for this. The tennis suit was made of white cotton, with an ivory stripe running through it. There was a straight, light skirt, a fitted jacket, and a white shirt that tied in a bow at my neck. There was also a jaunty straw boater. It was pretty; but despite some improvements over the last couple of years, the outfits the ladies were expected to wear were still not the most comfortable or practical for running around and playing tennis. I wondered with a smile what Cassie would turn up in.

As it happened, Cassie was the first person I ran into when I arrived downstairs. She was wearing something similar to her cycling outfit, but in lighter material, a tennis racket in her hand. I eyed her bloomers enviously.

“That’s going to make life easier,” I said.

Cassie’s face scrunched up in a grin. “You have no idea,” she said. “The first time I ran around in trousers – it was a transformative experience!”

She linked her arm through mine and we made our way outside.

“I don’t mean to be a bad house guest, but I’m really not a talented tennis player,” I grumbled.

“I remember!” Cassie chuckled, and I was reminded of the time after Helena and the girl arrived, when we had been thrown into all sorts of activities together. I had been awful then – it was hard to imagine that seven years of not playing was going to have improved matters. “But don’t worry about it.” Cassie swung her racquet through the air. “No one stands a chance against Percy and me, anyway. Although Agatha is in high spirits.” Cassie rolled her eyes. “She’s paired up with the prince, and she’s actually quite decent.”

“Of course she is,” I muttered. “She always was, if I remember rightly. Used to enjoy embarrassing me by not letting me win a single point.”

“She wasn’t anything like as good at riding though, or embroidery, for that matter,” Cassie reminded me, clearly trying to raise my spirits. “You were wonderful at that. Do you still do it?”

“I do,” I said. “Though it’s more of an occupational necessity, these days. I noticed a piece of mine in the morning room, actually. Agatha passed that one off as her own.”

“I remember that,” Cassie said quietly. “It was just after your father died. I think Agatha considered it belonged to her because she donated that spool of silver thread that we found.”

“It was about the only nice memory I have of her,” I admitted. “When you both sat with me that day. It felt almost like having sisters.”

Cassie put her hand on my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I hope you feel differently now,” she said solemnly. “I hope you know that whatever happens, and whatever you decide to do, I consider you my sister.”

Quick tears stung my eyes then. It was painful, this transformation from being alone to having people I trusted, cared about. Like I was being cracked open, broken apart.

I didn’t reply to Cassie, but she must have read my emotions in my face, because she squeezed my arm again and then carried on walking, chatting cheerfully about her skills on the tennis court.