A False Proposal by Pam Mingle Page A

rest of her chocolate. “Cousin Louisa is right. It’s time to get started.”
    “What are we doing today, Cassie?”
    “I believe you have some French grammar and a translation to work on. Then penmanship, and if you work hard, we might read some myths before luncheon. This afternoon, your pianoforte tutor is coming. How does that sound?”
    “Boring,” Philippa proclaimed as Jack plopped her onto the floor.
    Yes, I quite agree . Cass rose from her place and took her sister’s hand. “Come along, dearest.” As they left the room, she turned and smiled at Jack. “Thank you for explaining. About Adam.”
    “Of course. Please accept my apologies for not keeping you informed.”
    Cass could tell by the mocking look in his eyes that his sincerity was in question. At least she’d made her point, though. “What news of…?” Her voice tapered off as she realized she shouldn’t speak of the Prime Minister’s murder in front of Philippa.
    Jack cast her a knowing glance. “We’ll talk of it later,” he said.

    In the schoolroom, Cass reviewed irregular French verbs with Pippa and then got her started on a translation. “When you’re done—and I don’t expect you to be done for at least an hour—come and find me. We’ll review your work together.”
    “All right,” her sister said in her most tortured voice. “I wish I could paint with watercolors. Do something fun for a change.”
    “I’ll tell you what. If you do a good job on your translation, tomorrow we shall paint in the morning and visit a museum in the afternoon. And maybe get an ice at Gunter’s.”
    “Oh, could we, Cassie? Do you mean it? You’re not teasing me?”
    “No, I’m not.” Impulsively, Cass reached out and drew the little girl into a tight hug. Sometimes—most of the time, lately—she hated being Philippa’s governess instead of simply her sister. She stroked the length of her long blond locks, loving the silky feel. This hair would delight a very fortunate man someday, she thought. And that immediately sent her thoughts to Adam, and him kissing her hair and saying how beautiful it was.
    “Cassie, let me go,” Philippa squealed.
    “I love you, little sister.” Before releasing her, Cass plopped a kiss on her cheek. “Now, get to work. Pip-pip!”
    “Hooray!” the little girl shouted. It was something they’d started long ago, and her sister still delighted in it. That would probably only last a few more years, too, until Pippa would view herself as much too sophisticated for such childish nonsense.
    Instead of heading for the drawing room, where her cousin would be settled, Cass decided to work on mending some books in the library. It was a hobby she’d developed over the years, at first assisting her father. Then, under his tutelage, she had learned how to reinsert pages that had fallen out and how to repair broken bindings on her own.
    It was here, as a small girl, she’d first heard the ancient tales of Zeus and the Olympians, and all her father’s favorite myths. Demeter and Persephone, Apollo and Daphne, Athena and Poseidon, and Ajax, her brother’s namesake, known for his strength and courage. And the story of her namesake, Cassandra, given the gift of prophecy by Apollo. When she hadn’t returned his love, he’d put a curse on her, so that no one believed her prophecies. She had a great gift, but he had rendered her powerless. Ha! It smacked of modern-day male-female relationships . Men usually held all the power—as well as the purse strings.
    She and her father had always been comfortable in each other’s company, and from an adult perspective, Cass understood that learning the art of mending books had been a way to be close to him. He had been scholarly and somewhat reclusive. Now she found a measure of peace in the work and in remembering her father’s resonant voice telling her the stories. She’d no sooner gotten her work table arranged, tools set out, glue pot ready, needle threaded, than her