Chapter 8

What the devil! Jack didn’t even have time to mutter that phrase before Cassandra threw herself into his arms, shaking as though she’d been dipped into the frozen Irish Sea.

Everyone in their small party came to a stop. And Jack couldn’t really blame them. She had let out an ear-piercing scream. But he held her close and whispered, “I’m here, Cassandra. It’s all right. I’m here.”

“What in the world?” Lady Widcombe demanded, making her way through the crowd to yank her daughter out of Jack’s arms. He felt the loss instantly.

Cassandra was still shaking and Jack would have done anything to hold her once more and try to soothe whatever was wrong.

“Th-th-the man in black,” she stuttered. “H-h-he grabbed me, a-a-and then he vanished and—”

Lady Widcombe released a world-weary sigh. “Not again, Cassandra,” she hissed. “You are making a scene.”

“I’ll take her back to her chambers,” Lady Samantha offered.

But the panicked expression in Cassandra’s eyes tore at Jack’s heart. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t offer to escort Cassandra to her chambers, he couldn’t suggest she not retire when she was clearly upset, he couldn’t do anything except stand there with the rest of the audience assembled around them.

“I saw him!” Cassandra insisted. “H-he touched my arm.”

Her sister took her hand and began to lead her in the opposite direction.

“He did! He touched me!”

Jack watched the Priske sisters disappear around the corner and a pall fell over the assembled group. Cassandra almost sounded mad. Not almost mad. If he wasn’t half-way in love with her, she’d sound quite mad. But…Well, he was half-way in love with her. He had been for some time. And he wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt as helpless as he did in that moment. No amount of luck or charisma could change what had just happened in the corridor. And no amount of fortune or charm could help Cassandra. There was absolutely nothing he could do. Damn it all.

“Do you think she was the one screaming in the middle of the night?” Hal Mort, Viscount Blackwater, asked; and Jack was quite tempted to smash his fist in the fellow’s face, even if he was an old friend.

“I’m terribly sorry about that,” Lady Widcombe apologized, her round face flushed and her voice trembling slightly.

“With all the stories surrounding Keyvnor, anyone might be shaken to be here,” Teddy Lockwood offered.

“Indeed,” Jack agreed, grateful to Lockwood for giving Cassandra an excuse. It might not be the best excuse, but it would do. “Been on edge a bit myself,” he lied. Then he flashed a weary smile toward Lady Widcombe. “Might I impose upon you to pay the harp another time, my lady? I think I may retire early this evening.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Lord St. Giles. I am terribly sorry if Cassandra has upset you.”

He was more worried than upset, but accepted the lady’s words versus discussing the semantics of the situation. “I do appreciate it.”

Without a glance back over his shoulder, Jack started for the other end of the castle, hoping he could catch up to Cassandra and her sister. Honestly, shouldn’t her mother be more concerned than she was? He didn’t remember his own mother, but his oldest sister Helen had been the doting sort. If any of their sisters had behaved the way Cassandra had just now, Helen would have taken on the motherly role and seen to their sister’s wellbeing no matter what else was happening. While it was nice Lady Samantha was seeing to Cassandra, the ladies did have a mother who was alive and well, and…Well, Lady Widcombe should seem more concerned than she was.

If—

“Jack!” came a familiar voice behind him, and Jack glanced back over his shoulder to find Lockwood and Blackwater following in his wake.

“Not the best time at the moment.”

Lockwood sighed. “Yes, I have a good idea where you’re headed, but perhaps you shouldn’t chase after the girl right now.”

He wasn’t chasing after Cassandra…Well, technically, he was chasing after her to make sure she was all right. But he wasn’t chasing her skirts at the moment. “You both can keep your own council on the matter.”

Blackwater looked slightly uncomfortable. “Madness does run in the family, Jack—”

Lockwood balled his hand into a fist and glared at the viscount. “That’s nothing but a ridiculous tale. The madness isn’t hereditary. Lady Claire is quite sane.”

“We both know it is,” Blackwater countered. “Both her mother and her aunt suffered from it. Who’s to say Lady Cassandra...”

Who was to say Cassandra wasn’t just as mad as the ladies in Claire Deering’s family? Jack heaved an irritated sigh.

And Lockwood looked quite murderous all of a sudden. “Now see here,” he began.

“Lady Cassandra is related to the late-earl, not his wife.” Jack cut him off, not having the patience or inclination to engage in this conversation. “There’s no madness in her family.” Though her mother might be mad with the total lack of concern she’d shown for her daughter. Jack opted, however, not to say as much to his friends.

“Just want you to be careful,” Blackwater added.

“I appreciate your concern.” But he really needed to catch Cassandra and her sister before all trace of them was gone. He turned his back on his friends and started down the corridor where the Priske sisters had departed.

He rounded the corner and…There was no sign of either lady. Damn Lockwood and Blackwater straight to the devil. They’d delayed him just long enough for him to loose the girls. And then he heard a dog bark.

Oscar! Perfect!

Jack hurried toward the sound, certain the poodle would be following after Cassandra and her sister, but the dog was sitting in the corridor barking at the wall. Hardly helpful.

“Oscar,” Jack called. “Where’s your lady?”

The poodle stood up and wagged his tail.

“Where’s Cassandra?” Jack tried again. “Find Cassandra.”

But the little dog raced toward Jack and sat at his feet, looking up at him as though hoping for a treat.

Damn it all, Jack would need to travel the corridors of Keyvnor with dog treats in his pockets from here on out. He gestured down the corridor. “Go find Cassandra.”

Oscar barked, but made no effort to move.

“If I get you a treat from the kitchens, will you take me to your lady’s chambers?” he asked and then shook his head for sounding like a fool. Somehow, Jack had been reduced to asking a dog for help and having to bribe the little thing with treats.

Cassy wasn’t mad. She wasn’t. That man all in black had touched her and then he had disappeared! She hadn’t imagined it, had she? Not like she had imagined Grandpapa, right? No, of course not. She shook her head at the idea. That man…er…ghost or whatever or whoever he was had touched her! She’d felt his frosty touch on her arm. She’d never forget that feeling as long as she lived.

Shivering slightly at the memory, she pulled her wrapper tighter around her. So, she wasn’t mad, but it was more than maddening that no one believed her. For heaven’s sake, why would she make up a story like that?

The candle against the far wall flickered and Cassy padded across the rug to use the flame to light another candle. After all, she couldn’t have too much light. Not tonight, perhaps not ever. If she had a thousand candles at her disposal, she was quite certain she’d light every single one of them to—

A familiar scratching sound came from the door, not a servant trying to get her attention. No, that insistent scratch could only come from Oscar. Thank heavens! She did not relish being in her chambers alone now that her sister was gone. Sam had been kind to sit with her a while and make sure Cassy’s heart had returned to a more sedate pace, but she wouldn’t truly be herself until she left the walls of Keyvnor behind her for good.

But even if no one else believed her about the man in black or any of the other strangeness at Keyvnor, Oscar believed her. He’d sensed the same things she had. At least she thought he did.

Cassy crossed the room to open the door for her poodle, but…

Jack stood in the corridor alongside her dog. Oscar raced inside her chambers and promptly hopped up onto her bed, at least she assumed he did from the sound of the mattress sinking a bit behind her; but Cassy didn’t dare pull her gaze away from Jack. Was he really there?

“What are you doing here?” She had, after all, been quite certain he’d wash his hands completely of her after this evening’s incident. He had made it very clear that he didn’t believe in such things as ghosts or spirits. And one of those things he didn’t believe in had reached out and grabbed Cassy’s arm.

“I needed to make sure you’re all right.”

A shiver raced across her spine at the memory of the man in black’s cold fingers. “I won’t be all right until I leave here.”

Jack frowned slightly. “May I come in?”

To her chambers? Cassy’s mouth fell open. She was already in her nightrail and wrapper. Was he trying to ruin her? “I don’t think—”

“I don’t think we should have a conversation like this.” He gestured to her in her chambers and him in the corridor. “Someone could come upon us, and that wouldn’t look proper at all.”

Not that having him in her chambers was proper either. In fact it was far from it, but…Well, no one would know if he was inside, right? Not if they didn’t see him enter or leave. “No one saw you, did they?”

“I do hope not.” He flashed her that charming smile that could melt her insides. “I looked like quite the fool begging Oscar to lead me to you. We had to make a stop at the kitchens. He’s not a fan of mutton. Did you know?”

How was it possible he managed to make her laugh, even now when she felt so alone and terrified? “You’ve spoiled him with pheasant.” Cassy said as she opened her door wide enough for the baron to enter her borrowed set of rooms.

Just as soon as he closed the door behind him, Jack pulled her into his embrace. Cassy breathed in the scent of his shaving lotion and welcomed the heat of him against her skin. Heavens! Was there anywhere in the world that felt safer than being in his arms?

“Tell me what happened,” he finally said.

But she didn’t want to talk about the man in black and she didn’t want to think about him either. “You won’t believe me.”

“Cassandra,” he urged and tipped her chin up so she had to meet his silvery eyes.

And looking so deeply into his depths did make her knees weak. How long would that last? Would he run as far away from her as he could once she told him everything she saw? “You were right there, Jack. Everyone was right there, but…” She winced, hating the memory of everyone staring at her as though she was a Bedlamite. And she didn’t want to see that look in his eyes so she focused on his lips instead.

“But?” he echoed.

“You were right there, but you didn’t see him. No one else saw him. But he was there. The same man from the window. The one who glared at me as we arrived. He was right there and he touched my arm.”

Jack frowned, clearly not believing her. She hadn’t thought that he would, though she had foolishly hoped that he might. But that frown said otherwise.

Cassy pushed out of his arms and the chill of her chambers swirled back around her. “I don’t expect you to believe me.”

“I was there,” he said slowly. “But I didn’t see any man, ghostly or otherwise, touch you. It could have been a draft or—”

“It wasn’t a draft!” she insisted. “I saw him. I saw him with my two eyes and he grabbed me.” Cassy turned back toward her bed and sat on the edge. “I can still feel an iciness where his fingers curled around my arm. I’ll never forget how that felt.”

Oscar plodded across the counterpane and dropped down beside her. What a true friend her poodle was. Loyal to a fault, even if she was bound for Bedlam.

Jack heaved a sigh and crossed the room. He sat on the edge of her bed next to Oscar and looked at her with such concern it almost broke her heart.

“I know you think I’m mad.”

He reached his hand out and captured hers. “On the contrary, I’ve always thought you were the most levelheaded girl.”

“Until now.”

His silvery eyes held her gaze and warmth settled very closely to her heart. “If you say you saw something, then you saw something.”

As though a weight she didn’t know she was carrying was lifted off her shoulders by those words, Cassy couldn’t help but throw her arms around Jack’s neck. Oscar grumbled as he moved out of the way, but she paid her pet very little attention. How could she think about anything other than the fact that Jack Hazelwood believed her?

The heat of his hands nearly seared her though her nightrail and wrap as he held her close against the stone wall of his chest. Heavens! He really shouldn’t be there. If anyone ever saw them like this…

“Jack,” she whispered. “You should leave before someone discovers you’re here.”

He pulled back slightly from her. “Do you want me to leave?”

She never wanted him to leave. She felt safe when she was with him, but he couldn’t stay in her chambers with her. “If my father knew you were in here…”

“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes bore into hers once more. “Do you want me to leave, Cassandra?”

Her cheeks stung with heat. “What I want is inconsequential.”

“Not to me.”

Cassy dropped her gaze and stared at his cravat. “I feel safe with you. Of course, I wish you could stay. But that would—”

“I’ll leave in the morning before your maid comes for you. No one will know I was here.”

“You’re mad,” she breathed out, meeting his eyes once more.

That devilish smile teased at the corners of Jack’s lips. “We might both be. But I’m not leaving you.”