Chapter 185

Cassandra found a plate of lemon tart waiting on the sideboard outside the dining room, accompanied by a small dash of cream.

Octavia had suggested that she take something sweet to Merissa, who was still confined to her bed following the accident that morning.

The physician had examined her ankle and confirmed that the injury was a minor sprain, though he had warned her against putting too much weight on it until the swelling subsided. With proper rest and care, she ought to recover without difficulty.

Cassandra balanced the plate carefully and made her way upstairs. The corridors she passed were illuminated by lamps.

She was glad the physician had offered a reassuring prognosis. Merissa’s fall was alarming enough, and the thought of her suffering a more serious injury had lingered unpleasantly in Cassandra’s mind althrough the day.

At Merissa’s door, she knocked and waited until a cheerful voice invited her inside.

Merissa was reclining against a stack of pillows, a blanket drawn to her chest. Lorelei occupied one of the armchairs in the room, her posture relaxed as she listened to something Merissa had been saying. A pamphlet lay closed on the small table near her elbow, apparently abandoned in favour of their conversation.

Cassandra let herself in and flashed Merissa a smile. "I was told you might like something sweet. Mother suggested I bring you some dessert."

Merissa instantly perked up. "That looks delicious."

"Lemon tart." Cassandra said. "You have already been deprived of enough pleasures today, you shouldn’t have to miss dessert as well."

Though she had not known Merissa for long, she was already growing fond of her. Merissa was delightful company, with a lively manner that made every conversation with her thoroughly enjoyable.

"Indeed. Being confined to bed is a dreadful business." Merissa glanced towards her ankle beneath the covers. "The physician assures me I shall recover, but I suspect he has no idea how tedious it is to be told to remain still when everyone else is free to go about their lives."

"Then you must make the most of the opportunity to have everyone wait upon you." Lorelei spoke from her chair, an amused lilt in her voice. "You may find it difficult to persuade them once you are well again."

Cassandra placed the plate on the small table and moved to sit at the foot of the bed, smoothing the blanket near Merissa’s knees before resting a hand there.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you. It aches if I move my foot, but that is to be expected." Merissa said gratefully. "And thank you for bringing this."

"You’re welcome. You need only concern yourself with resting and allowing your ankle to heal. We shall manage the rest."

Merissa smiled, then seemed to remember something that had been occupying her mind. "Have you seen Simon since this morning?"

Cassandra shook her head. "Not since we left the stables. Why?"

Merissa hesitated, glancing towards Lorelei, who had been listening to the conversation without interrupting.

"I wanted to thank him properly for what he did," Merissa explained. "He could have allowed one of the stable hands to assist me, but he brought me inside himself and made sure I was comfortable. I would like to give him something in return, though I cannot decide what he might appreciate. I asked Lorelei for her opinion, but she has been of very little assistance."

"I fail to see why I should be expected to know what Simon would like," Lorelei replied. "I am not in the habit of keeping a catalogue of his preferences."

"He is your cousin and you know him better than I do." Merissa shot back.

"Once, perhaps."

The brief answer carried a subtle change in tone. Cassandra noticed it, though Lorelei appeared unwilling to say more on the matter.

Cassandra considered Merissa’s question. "I am afraid I cannot be of much help either. I do not know Simon well enough to recommend a suitable gift."

"That is what I feared." She sounded disappointed.

"Besides," Cassandra added gently, "I would be careful about bringing Simon up too often around Draven. His dislike of his cousin is hardly a secret."

Merissa considered this. "I noticed that. I do understand where Cousin Draven is coming from, at least to some extent. I imagine I would not be particularly pleased if someone I disliked were continually being paraded in front of me." She paused, her fingers fisting the covers. "Still, Simon did help me. It would seem terribly ungrateful to ignore that simply because the two of them cannot get along."

Cassandra understood her dilemma. Merissa had no wish to provoke Draven or interfere in a family disagreement she barely understood. She was merely trying to acknowledge an act of kindness, yet even that seemed complicated by the circumstances surrounding Simon’s continued presence in the house.

She gave Merissa’s knee a gentle pat.

"A sincere thank-you will suffice, I am sure. You needn’t trouble yourself over an elaborate gift. Once you are well enough to leave your room, you can thank him properly if you happen to see him."

Merissa nodded, accepting the advice, though the enthusiasm that had accompanied her original question had dimmed.

Her gaze drifted towards the dessert, and Cassandra recognised the disappointment she was trying to conceal. She had hoped for a more satisfying solution, perhaps one that would allow her to express her gratitude the way she intended without feeling she was fueling the tension between the cousins.

Cassandra could not resolve the disagreement between Draven and Simon for her. Nor was it her place to persuade Draven to welcome in a man firmly disliked. She could, however, offer Merissa something else to focus on.

"I suppose I should tell you about something I heard Mother discussing earlier," she said, adopting a conspiratorial tone.

"What is it?"

"Lady Sinclair is to host a ball in a fortnight. Mother expects that we shall attend."

The effect was immediate. Merissa straightened against her pillows, her earlier disappointment giving way to sudden interest.

"A ball? Are you certain?"

Cassandra laughed. "Quite certain. Unless Mother was jesting, I believe we may safely assume it is taking place."

"Two weeks from now?" Merissa asked, scarcely able to hide her excitement. "Oh, I do hope my ankle will have recovered by then."

"If you follow the physician’s instructions, there is every reason to expect that it will. But you mustn’t rush your recovery for the sake of a dance."

"I wouldn’t dream of it."

Lorelei gave her a sceptical glance. "You were complaining about the physician’s instructions less than ten minutes ago."

"That was before I knew there was a ball to look forward to." Merissa retorted.

Cassandra smiled at the exchange. Merissa’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she was pleased to have lifted the younger woman’s spirits. A fortnight would give her ample time to recover, and the prospect of a social gathering appeared to have restored some of the cheerfulness that prospect of confinement had taken from her.

"Besides," Cassandra continued, leaning a little closer, "there may be a few eligible gentlemen in attendance. One never knows. They might be ripe for the picking."

There was extra emphasis on the last words, as though discussing an important matter of state.