Blackmoore(12)

Now she did not even watch me as I left the room. I lingered by the door, while my anger grew hotter and hotter, until finally I said, “By the way, Mama, I will not be dining with the family tonight. You will have to give my excuses to Mr. Cooper.” I paused, then delivered my final line with a lifted chin. “And Mama? You wear entirely too much rouge.”

I closed the door quickly, just in time for it to block the hairbrush that flew across the room, aimed at my head. I heard it hit the wooden door with a loud thunk. I turned and sauntered away, a smile tugging at my lips. I was running before I reached the woods.

L

Henry was watching for my return. He turned to me as soon as I stepped into the clearing. “Well?”

32



“Well . . .” I had hidden my grin, hoping to tease him. “I am afraid to say . . .”

But I could not restrain myself. My grin slipped out from my control, and Henry’s face broke into a broad smile.

“Success?” he asked.

“Success.” I picked up my bow with a sigh of happiness, noting Cora still curled up on the grass next to Henry’s feet. That cat had always been attached to Henry.

“I was right, then,” he said, his smile broad and triumphant. “I am a genius, in other words.”

I laughed. “Your humility is astonishing, Henry.”

“I am a mother-manipulating genius who has, once again, granted you your heart’s desire, thus earning the title of. . . .” He grinned, his eyes all mischief.

I laughed again, shooting him a look meant to convey the fact that he was mad to think I would ever call him The Giver of My Heart’s Desire.

This time when I took aim, my arrow flew straight and true, hitting the target right next to Henry’s arrow.

He glanced down at the cat sprawled in the grass. “What will you do with Cora while you’re away?”

“I shall ask Oliver to take care of her.”

He nodded. “It wouldn’t do to take her to Blackmoore.”

“I know. But I do hate to leave her behind.”

He pulled back the string of his bow, squinting at the target in the late afternoon sun. “Just don’t forget to take your heart with you to Blackmoore. I would hate for you to leave that behind.”

33







Chapter 4


I stayed outside until dinnertime, then crept into the house via the French windows that separated the garden from the morning room. I paused outside the dining room door, which had been left open a crack, and peeked inside, observing the scene I had chosen not to be a part of.

Mama was leaning toward Mr. Cooper and smiling at him in a gro-tesque and desperate manner. Maria sat next to him. Judging by the for-lorn expression on her face and the fact that she was not eating, I sur-mised that Mama had not yet told her of the invitation to Blackmoore.

Then were was Lily, still innocent at twelve. Oliver would be eating in the kitchen with Cook, which made me happy.

My gaze stopped, finally, at the head of the table. Papa sat slouched in his chair, one hand gripping his wine glass, his gaze fixed on the spectacle Mama was making of herself. Even from this distance, the scorn in his expression struck me. It was weighty and sharp, violent in its strength, and I felt somehow battered after seeing it. I looked away quickly, remembering why I had stopped watching him years ago, and crept quietly down the hall and up the stairs to my bedchamber.

What Henry had said earlier about taking my heart with me re-minded me of something even more important than my heart. I opened the locked chest at the foot of my bed once again, and this time I drew 34



forth the small box inlaid with ivory. Room could be made for this in my traveling trunk with a few adjustments. All I needed was my clothing, my Mozart, and this ivory-inlaid box. Even more than a heart, hope was a necessary traveling companion.

L

I hardly slept that night, and eagerness pulled me from my bed as soon as sunlight crept over my windowsill. After dressing, I checked my trunk once more, then made my way downstairs for breakfast. Mama rushed toward me with hurried feet and a worried expression.

“Oh, Kitty, you will never guess!”

I dropped my spoon, so frightened by her panicked demeanor that I jumped.

“Maria has come down with a fever in the night! She is too sick to travel.”

I stared at the pinched skin between her eyes as dread pooled in my stomach. “You do not mean—you do not mean to keep me at home as well, do you?”

She waved her hands. “No, no. You must go. The Delafields will be expecting you.”

I stared at her as surprise rendered me speechless. But before I could wonder any more at her agreeable mood, she hurried off to “see to Maria’s comfort.” Watching her go, I tried to remember if I had ever heard her utter such a phrase before.

Unease stirred within me, but I shook it off and focused on this one thought: Maria would not be coming to Blackmoore after all! My smile stretched wide before I had to time to recall it. Of course, I should have worried about Maria’s health. But this fever was probably only a result of her refusing to eat and crying in odd places yesterday. Surely this was nothing serious.

Counting myself fortunate, I went forth to complete my last duties of 35



J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n the morning before I would be free to leave. I found Oliver in the kitchen, sitting on a stool next to Cook, who was rolling out pastry dough.