The Mistress Diaries by Julianne MacLean

Author:Julianne MacLean
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins

I pray that he will never touch me. I live in constant fear of what will happen if he does.

—from the journal of Cassandra Montrose,

Lady Colchester,

June 5, 1874

The next day splashed onto the horizon like a wave upon rocks, splattering the morning sky with a dazzling pink sunrise. The thick cover of clouds that hung heavy over England for weeks had moved on, clearing the way at last for the sun’s radiant heat and the brilliance of a bright blue sky. There was hope now for the disastrous flooded fields and the muddy palace roads.

By the time Vincent arrived at the dower house to pick Cassandra up in the coach, she was ready and waiting at the door, wearing a blue and white striped traveling gown of light muslin. It belonged to Charlotte and was the perfect dress for springtime weather.

Vincent complimented her on her appearance and assisted her into the comfortable vehicle, and together they drove off, crossing over the estate border, speaking very little to each other as they headed east in the direction of London.

The journey was long, but for Cassandra it was not the least bit tedious. How could it be, when the sunshine outside the window was shining in on her lap, warming her legs and brightening her mood? She did not mind the rocking and jostling over the uneven, rutted roads either, for her mind was occupied by the glorious view of the English countryside beyond the glass, and her private thoughts of June.

She imagined her new life with her daughter in a new home, surrounded by flowers and grass and birds chirping in the treetops. There would be so much for a little girl to discover, with her puppy as a playmate. It would be a good life—a proper, respectable one, as long as she could keep her wits about her where her benefactor was concerned.

Cassandra glanced across at Vincent and took in his overall appearance. He was immaculately dressed in black trousers and a three-quarter-length coat, a dark crimson brocade waistcoat and necktie, and a silk top hat.

He met her gaze and nodded coolly, then looked out the window again. For the rest of the journey, his lack of attention and the silence between them helped free her of any doubts she had entertained about spending this long, intensive day alone with him. His ignoring her was a blessing. It kept the wall between them solidly in place, which was what she wanted.

Eventually they turned off the main road to view a property near Newbury, which was available for purchase. They pulled to a stop in front of it.

The minute Cassandra stepped out of the coach, however, and took one look at it—a thatched cottage close to the road and adjacent to a churchyard cemetery—she knew it was not at all to her liking.

Vincent stood beside her in the sunshine just outside the coach, holding her gloved hand at shoulder height, staring at the front of the cottage. “I don’t like it,” he said.

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