Miss Weston's Masquerade by Louise Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

well I reserved a private suite. This place has regained all its popularity with people doing the Grand Tour after the war and they say the owners have made a fortune here.’
    They dined alone in their own parlour, ignoring the waiter’s raised eyebrows at a nobleman’s latitude in permitting his valet to share his table.
    ‘Won’t they think it odd?’ Cassandra asked as the door closed behind the man.
    Nicholas shrugged. ‘It’s of no matter, they think the English are mad, anyway. Pass the buttered crab, I believe it is the speciality of the house.’
    Drowsy with food and sea air, Cassandra fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow in the tiny chamber Nicholas secured for her.
    Next morning she tumbled downstairs rubbing the sleep from her eyes to find him already up and dressed, impatiently tapping his foot on the cobbles as he watched the first carriages leaving the inn yard.
    ‘Hurry up, Cass, if you want any breakfast,’ he ordered. ‘And, for heaven’s sake, do something about that neckcloth, you look more like a scarecrow than a valet.’
    She was becoming accustomed to his uncertain temper first thing in the morning and, sure enough, by the time they settled themselves in the carriage hired from the inn, Nicholas’s mood was positively cheerful. Cassandra gathered he approved of the horses they had obtained and that even the French postillions passed muster.
    After the dismal streets of Calais the wide open countryside with its fields of green corn and red poppies came as a surprise and a pleasure. There were no hills or deep valleys to slow the horses, only a rolling greenness which pleased the eye until interrupted by small, squalid, villages, or collections of tumbledown farm buildings.
    ‘Bored?’ Nicholas enquired sometime later as she settled herself back against the cushions with a deep sigh.
    ‘I expected it to be so different, but the countryside could be Hertfordshire.’
    ‘What did you expect?’ Nicholas grinned at her. ‘Dragons or strange costumes? This is France, not Cathay.’
    ‘But after the sea crossing, everything seems so ordinary,’ Cassandra lamented.
    ‘Can you play cards?’ Nicholas produced a pack and started to shuffle them. ‘No? I'll teach you to play piquet.’

Chapter Five
     
    By the time they passed through the gate of Amiens that evening, Cassie had won several sixpences.
    ‘Are all card games this simple?’ she enquired disingenuously, as Nicholas put away the pack.
    ‘I am learning a little about you, Cassie. Under that country girl exterior beats the heart of a gamester.’ Nicholas regarded her wryly, wondering whether she had been lying about her lack of expertise at cards. ‘My mother will not be pleased with me, teaching you to gamble.’
    Despite the warmth of the cheerfully-lit inn, he saw her shiver as she carried the dressing case inside. Poor girl, she had borne up far better than he could have expected. Most delicately raised young women of his acquaintance would have had the vapours inside five minutes, but then, he was forgetting just what a child she was. He patted her arm. ‘Bear up, Cassie, we’re nearly there. By this time tomorrow you’ll be safe with Mama.’
    ‘I’m not… I’m enjoying myself, this is an adventure,’ she said stiffly. ‘I just realised how close to the end of it we are. But you’ll be glad. You’ll leave me in Paris and go off and I’ll learn to be female again.’
    ‘Ah, well.’ He paused in the act of tying a clean neckcloth, aware that a slight smile of anticipation was curving his lips. ‘I intend enjoying Paris to the full. I think I deserve a little diversion after playing the governess.’
    Cassie snapped back, ‘Have I been such a burden then? After all, it was your idea to bring me!’
    Now what? It seemed he couldn’t do right for doing wrong in her eyes. ‘You ungrateful brat.’ He swung round, fists on hips, to regard her coldly. ‘I would have left you on the doorstep if you