A not so casual stroll in the park

Mrs. Cassandra Vaughn adjusted her wrap about her shoulders and peered ahead on the path of the tree-lined park. Was it only just yesterday that her lover, Neville Quinn, Earl of Drayton, had ended their association? It seemed he had wasted no time and was in a hurry to find her replacement. She watched the couple ahead of her continue their casual stroll. If her eyes did not mistake her, Cassandra’s rival for Drayton’s attention was none other than Lady Gwendolyn Sandhurst, sister to the Duke of Ashbury and his younger brother Lord Brandon Worthington. Drayton would be treading dangerous waters if he were to trifle with a married woman. If the woman’s husband did not call him out, her brothers certainly would!

“Why are we walking when there is a perfectly fine carriage waiting for us to ride in?” Mrs. Patience Moore complained bitterly.

Cassandra strained her neck to peer at the bend in the trail up ahead, wishing the trees out of her line of sight so she could see what Drayton was up to. Another tug on her sleeve brought her attention back to her companion. Patience Moore had no patience whatsoever, but had been a dear friend when she had most needed one after she lost her husband. That they were both on the lookout for their next benefactor was reason enough for a walk in the park where they could check out any new prospects. A widow down on her luck sometimes resorted to unpleasant and difficult situations beyond those she had been raised to.

“I needed to stretch my legs. The walk will do us good,” Cassandra finally answered but sighed in frustration when Patience went to a nearby tree to remove a pebble from her shoe. Now she had lost sight of the man. She must be losing her mind. Why in the world was she following him in the first place?

“Honestly, Cassandra, I did not mean for my feet to suffer such abuse today. These shoes were not made for traipsing about in the woods, dear.” Patience adjusted her bonnet, linked her arm through Cassandra’s, and urged her onward. “If we must continue, let us be quick about it so we can get back to your driver and enjoy our outing from the comfort of a padded seat.”

As they rounded the bend that had obstructed her view of Drayton’s whereabouts, Cassandra skidded to a very unladylike halt and pushed Patience behind a tree. Her eyes narrowed with jealousy, although why such an emotion seemed to be plaguing her she could not say. They had made no commitment to one another nor expressed words of love. Their relationship had been a convenience for them both. Why, then, did Cassandra’s heart feel as though it were being stabbed with a knife when she observed Drayton carrying Lady Sandhurst in his arms before depositing her on a park bench?

“Is that not─” Patience began.

“Yes.”

“Are you not still with him?”

“Not as of yesterday.” Cassandra’s reply was so quiet the sound was almost lost on the wind. “I have seen enough. Shall we return to the carriage?” She could not keep herself from one last glance at Neville. She should have refrained, since her heart lurched yet again when he once more picked up the lady.

Not caring whether or not Patience followed her, Cassandra hastily cut through the trees to reach the main walkway of the park. Looking for her driver, she saw none other than Lord Brandon Worthington driving his own rig, as if she conjured him up . He slowed the team of horses as he came nearer and gave her a brilliant smile. An encouraging sign if Cassandra ever saw one. Perhaps the day had not been such a waste after all. He had just pulled the carriage to a halt and tipped his hat when she heard Lord Brandon’s name being called. With a hasty apology, he flicked the reins and Cassandra watched as Drayton deposited the gentleman’s sister inside the rig. They were gone before she had even had a chance to catch her breath.

She was occupied with thoughts of Lord Brandon being the next handsome gentleman to warm her bed, when her driver came abreast of them. After accepting assistance from her footman, she rearranged her dress and she relaxed in her carriage. As the team began to move, she groaned aloud. There on the walk was none other than Samuel Clemmons, editor of that nasty Teatime Tattler gossip rag, scribbling away on a note pad. She wondered for the remainder of the night what page she would find her name upon come the following day.

This is an original piece with characters from Sherry Ewing’s work in progress, Nothing But Time. Sherry picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical & time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. Always wanting to write a novel but busy raising her children, she finally took the plunge in 2008 and wrote her first Regency. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Beau Monde & the Bluestocking Belles. Sherry is currently working on her next novel and when not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry’s work here on her page with the Bluestocking Belles or on the following social media outlets:

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