Don't Let Me Go

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

~1848~

It was a beautiful spring morning and Cassandra had woken up in high spirits for reasons she couldn’t explain, she was just…happy. Like something good was going to happen. The sun was what woke her up, she had left the window open last night to gaze at the moon and stars and feel the cool night air.

There was a soft knock on the door.

 “Come in,” she said with a sleepy yet cheerful voice.

“My Lady,” Miss. Frey a young maid came in. “Good morning I hope you had a pleasant night’s sleep,” the maid said in a pleasant voice sensing that Cassandra was in a very good mood.

When Miss. Frey was about to leave she turned around and looked at her like she had just remembered something, “Miss Cassandra, your father would like to see you in his office when you finish with your breakfast.”

Cassandra went through her morning routine and when finished headed down for breakfast. The house she lived was enormous and very grand. When her mother furnished the house she always hired specialist that left the estate looking like it was fit for a king. The furniture was new and extravagant; everything was polished to shining perfection. The ceilings were high and the windows reached from floor to ceiling and huge and gothic like chandeliers hung high up on the ceilings.

Her mother was the only one that was to accompany her today for breakfast. Her father almost always ate with then he didn’t only when something was wrong or there was something important he had to take care of. The food was always delicious, the cook, Mrs. Henley, she had been their cook since Cassandra was a mere baby. Many people had tried to take Mrs. Henley away but she was very loyal to the Abernathy that she never left no matter how much more she was offered; Mrs. Henley was family.

When Cassandra was done eating she left to her father’s office. Once there she was far from stunned from what she was told. She had never expected something like that to happen to her.

“Cassandra, I just received a letter from Richard’s father,” her father started. Christopher, the Duck of Harthill was sure that once he told his daughter this that many things would change for her. Some for the best but there was definitely some for the bad.

“This changes things to a whole new situation,” Christopher continued with an expressionless face, “Richard…left. He left last night and no one knows where he’s left off to.”