XXVII

2 0 0
                                    


Grayson wrote to announce his arrival during the second week of December. I longed to see my brother again. He provided a beam of sunshine to an otherwise dismal time for me. I missed his warm smile and his gentle teasing. Life seemed different to me. I no longer viewed it through rose-colored glasses. The carefree days of my youth disappeared. I felt encased in a shadow of gloom.

"Thad is longing to meet you, Prissy," Gray wrote in his neat copperplate handwriting. "He must get tired of hearing me talk about you, but you were always such an important part of my life. You'll like Thad. He has changed my life for the better."

Cassandra and I tried to imagine what Thaddeus Blair looked like. We conjured up a tall, muscular Viking with shoulder-length blonde hair and a cleft chin. Young and impressionable, Cassie was inclined to fall in love quickly. She clung to the idea of a blossoming romance between Gray's friend and herself.

"You shouldn't get carried away, Cass," I warned teasingly. "Image if he is rotund with a huge bulbous nose. What would you think of Thaddeus Blair then?"

"I won't believe he's rotund, Priscilla," Cassie remarked, lifting her skirt and swirling. "Nor will I believe he has a bulbous nose. He's handsome; otherwise, Gray wouldn't like him so much. Gray wouldn't become friends with someone ugly."

"You never know," I stated dourly. "People do become friendly even with the ugliest human beings." My thoughts flew immediately to what I considered Joel's lousy taste in women.

I carried Grayson's letter to my bedroom window and reread it. Using the front and back, he filled the stationery with vivid descriptions of his daily classes and lectures. I appreciated his enthusiasm. He seemed happy in Oxford, although he often longed to return to Everstow. I feared he would find his old home quite different than he recalled, with Charlotte's ever-threatening presence.

As much as I enjoyed receiving mail from my brother, I looked for letters from Spencer daily. As the weeks passed, I became increasingly anxious to hear from him. I wrote frequently but felt a stone wall climbing between us.

"Priscilla," Miss Young knocked and called my name through the closed door. When I responded, she opened it and poked her head in. "It's nearly teatime. Will you and Cassie join us today?"

"I..." I stammered. Cassie nodded, and I agreed. I hadn't felt like socializing since my last fight with Lottie. However, I couldn't continue to hold Miss Young off.

Cassie and I entered the schoolroom just as the tea trolley arrived. I was surprised to find Sybil pushing it instead of Anne Marie. The new maid curtsied and departed.

"Where's Anne Marie today?" I casually asked. "I do hope she isn't ill."

"Anne Marie is Lottie's personal maid now," the governess answered, pouring the tea. "Charlotte requested her especially."

"Oh, I see." I accepted my cup and a finger sandwich. A strange feeling gnawed at my insides.

Why would Charlotte specifically choose Anne Marie as her personal maid? When did they become acquainted? Lottie never visited the nursery, even after Cassandra became an occupant. She rarely acknowledged Cassie despite the revelation of their relationship. I wondered if she would deign to visit after Jesse became old enough to join Miss Young's classes.

I sipped my tea absently and nibbled on my sandwich. The governess chatted amiably about lessons, and Cassie responded promptly. The girl showed a willingness to learn. Her grammar changed drastically during her time with Miss Young. The cockney accent lessened slightly, leaving room for improvement. I grew fond of the child despite her origins.

ShadowsWhere stories live. Discover now