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"Graham McRoberts has offered to accompany you on your rides in future, Cassie. He knows the area and the weather patterns. You can be sure you're safe with him close by." Irene smiled at the lily she was transplanting.

"How kind of him." Cassandra struggled not to voice her anger. Of course, he had. That was his plan to see her, to force her to see him. Fine. "But I think I've had enough of riding for now." She smiled sweetly.

"Oh, that is a shame. The horses could use the exercise. Sometimes, I'm afraid they'll forget what it's like to have a human on their back." Irene laughed softly, seemingly unaware of Cassandra's inner feelings. "Lavinia tells me you're an excellent rider, as well."

"Livy enjoys complementing others." This time, Cassandra's smile was genuine. "Which reminds me, I wanted to thank you for all the kindness you've shown to her. It's good to know that someone was looking out for her before I got here. I hated thinking of her being up here all alone."

"Oh, there's no need!" Irene waved a dirt-covered hand in dismissal. "It's nothing more than could be expected of a true friend. Besides, I've quite enjoyed seeing to her. I haven't had a good friend in a long time." A pained look passed across Irene's fair features for a brief moment. "I know what it's like to be ostracized."

Irene's eyes were fully of understanding as she looked up from her work. Cassandra sat on the ground, mindless of the dirt on her dress.

"Lavinia told me that things weren't easy for you back in London after they left." Irene explained gently.

Cassandra scoffed. "I believe the difficulty lay in the fact that I was in society and couldn't get out." She'd never told Lavinia the full extent of the situation back home. It would have made her sister feel worse about the things that were out of her control, and honestly, there'd been no need.

"How do you mean?" Irene frowned.

"As a lord's daughter, I was in the thick of everything, and when I realized I didn't want to be, it was too late. After the wedding, I was invited to parties and gatherings just so people could see how I was taking my 'tragedy' and gossip about me. I wasn't shut out as one might think. True, not one of them would stoop to speak to me as a friend, but that didn't stop them from wanting me present." As she spoke, she felt a twinge of guilt. Benjamin had called her 'friend' despite his sister's obvious disgust; he'd been willing—no, eager—to call her more than that.

"I guess I don't understand how that feels." Irene bit her lip. "Did Lavinia tell you my story?"

"She mentioned there was something in your past that involved Ethan, but she's never been one to talk flippantly about others' misfortunes."

"Of course not." Irene fiddled with a clump of dirt. "Would you like to hear it?" There was something almost hopeful in the dark eyes as Irene looked at Cassandra, and Cassandra could do nothing more than nod slowly. "I was young and foolish—a little girl really—always romanticizing about things I'd never experienced. Love and 'romantic entanglement' had been forbidden until I was older—fifteen is hardly an age to start a courtship; there's so much more about life that needs to be learned about oneself at that age before another person is added into the mix.

"I was resentful about my father's rule. I thought it was unreasonable—he and my mother and been rather young when they first met. In fact, when David Manuel came along, my attachment to him was almost formed out of spite. I wanted to prove that I was old enough to know my own mind, that I was a grown woman who could decide when she feel in love. My parents didn't have any idea what my feelings were about David, or they would have forbidden him from coming here.

"He was a charmer. He knew how to manipulate my feelings and thoughts until I didn't have a clue what I thought anymore, because my opinions were so intertwined with his. Do you know what it's like not to have thoughts of your own any longer? To be completely under the thumb of another individual without hardly realizing it yourself?

"He didn't have to work hard to convince me to run off with him." Irene laughed humorlessly. "After everything Charles and Ethan had told me, I was still convinced that I knew better. Well, I suppose I got what I deserved. I'm still dealing with the repercussions of that decision. If I hadn't been so stubborn, maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to look at myself in the mirror with pride."

"Forgive me, Irene, but that's absurd!" Cassandra said emphatically. "You are not at fault for his wrongs. He knew exactly what he was doing, and as you said, you were nothing but a child." Something inside of her had snapped at the words, and she spoke more harshly than she'd intended. For some reason, Irene's story brought the situation with Robert Smithers to mind. She pushed the thought away. Irene had been an innocent girl, and she was a full-grown woman. Irene's belief that she was to blame speared Cassandra's heart with a sharp pang. That was how Cassandra felt about this whole mess.

Irene smiled. "Perhaps, but that still doesn't change the past. Much as we might wish it did."

Cassandra gritted her teeth against a surge of emotion. Pain shot through her jaw, and she clenched her fists so tightly, her skin was white as paper. No, that wasn't who she was. She was the strong one. She was the one that didn't care what people thought. That much was true, anyway. People's opinions had no weight in her mind, but unfortunately, it wasn't some uptight old maid who was spewing her poison; it was Cassandra's own mind.

"Oh, look! Ethan and Lavinia are coming this way." Irene had shaken off her unhappiness and was wearing her typical smile once more. Cassandra looked in the direction her friend was pointing, but her vision was too clouded to make anything out.

She remembered speaking, giving some kind of excuse, but she couldn't recall what she'd said. All she knew was that she was moving across the garden green as fast as her legs could carry her—her mind replaying images of Robert Smithers all the way.

The vivid blue of the sky no longer held any magic for her. She felt stifled and trapped. She needed to get out. To feel the wind on her face. To let go of everything. But riding would mean being with Graham, and she didn't think she could face him just now. She wasn't up for a game of wits at the moment.

"Oh, Cassandra, have you seen Irene?" Charles stopped her on the stairs. She had no idea where she was headed.

"Outside." She said curtly. For some reason, there was a dark rage mounting within her, threatening to overwhelm her senses.

She moved around Charles, hardly caring if he noticed her mood or not. He didn't call after her which was good, but she wouldn't have stopped even if he had. Having passed him, she fairly ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

What gave men like that the right? Who gave them the idea that they were permitted to behave like animals without consequence? What made the world fair if women like Irene Fergus were left to face society's disgust alone? Did the people in this county, who had snubbed Irene so effectively, even remember someone named David Manuel had existed?

Shoving open a door, she threw herself into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. A library. She'd stumbled upon the library. How fitting. Here, there were plenty of things to throw but not without fear of destroying them.

It would, however, be a nice, quiet place to distance herself from her feelings. There would be no interruptions here. Besides the fact that no one would think to look for her in here, they were all too busy enjoying the fine weather to even think about it.

Unconsciously, she moved to one of the shelves and grabbed a book. The binding creaked as she white-knuckled it. She needed something to hold onto, to vent her frustrations on. She had no one to talk to, no one to understand. Was this what it felt like to be Lavinia all those months ago?

Tears pooled in her eyes, and the unmistakeable urge to cry almost overwhelmed her. She felt like a little girl again, and she desperately wanted to take refuge in the warm embrace of her father. She was alone, isolated from those around her. A shuddering breath passed through her, and she lowered her head, almost allowing herself to sink to the floor in a puddle of emotion.

In a moment, however, her head snapped back up. Look what they had reduced her to! She didn't cry. She never cried. With savage brutality, she swallowed her tears. Anger boiled within her. They were trying to make her weak.

With a wordless yell, she flung the book away from her. She wanted to hit something, to kick and scream and lash out, and she wanted to cry. What kind of woman did that make her? A pathetic one.

"You know, I never did like 'Romeo and Juliet'. It was far too absurd for my tastes." The familiar voice caused her back to go ramrod straight, and her defenses rolled back into place. "Honestly, dying for love, whoever thought of such madness?"

Graham was lounging in one of the armchairs by the fireplace drinking what appeared to be a glass of wine. She looked at him unflinchingly. He had just witnessed her in the throes of an emotional battle, and there was no way he'd let her get away with that.

He rose easily from the chair, setting his glass on the side-table. "I'll give it to him, though, Shakespeare was a clever one." Bending, he picked up the book she'd tossed. "He wasn't afraid to let others see his pain." Those electrifying eyes locked with hers. "Even if there was nothing they could do to help."

It was the first time she could remember him being entirely serious, and it startled her. She reached out to steady herself on the bookshelf as he approached, but she was too dazed to move away from him. Her breath caught in her throat as her mind played images of the other men who had walked toward her in such a manner.

She gasped as he reached up, flinching backwards. Unhurriedly, he replaced the book on the shelf, tracing the binding with his index finger. There was something about his ease of person that she found herself envying.

She looked away from his piercing gaze. She'd never felt so exposed to anyone before, and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling. How could he all at once set her at her ease and put her on edge?

"See you at dinner." And then he was gone. She hardly knew he'd left the room he moved so silently, but when she looked up, he was nowhere in sight.

Pushing further into the room, she sank onto one of the window-seats, clutching a pillow to her. She'd never understand men. They were so confusing, so difficult. She curled into a ball and closed her eyes against the sharp pain in her chest. She would not be weak; she would not allow her emotions to get the better of her. Not ever.

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Well, well, well, I'm back! Gosh, summer is terrible and amazing all at once. I've been swimming a lot, and my work schedule has definitely relaxed, but I've also been in a really lazy mood. I just don't want to do ANYTHING except lay around and chill. I'm glad I'm done with school, so I can have the freedom to do that!

How did you guys enjoy this chapter? What do you think Cassandra's going to do next? Hmm, this Graham guy is winding up to be quite the character. . . ;) I have the next chapter written, but I'm not sure if I like it. It's kind of boring. I'll have to add in some more spice ;D. Until next time!!