Nathaniel accompanied Cassandra as far as the front steps.
His carriage already waited at the front of the drive, the horses stamping impatiently against the gravel while the coachman stood beside the open door.
Nathaniel stopped beside it, close enough to the coachman to converse quietly.
"Remember the order you were given. Take my daughter to Ainsbury Hall."
"Yes, my lord." The coachman bowed before turning to open the carriage door fully.
Nathaniel looked back at where Cassandra stood a few paces behind him, and there was an odd look in his eyes as he gave her one last assessing glance.
"Your mother will be pleased to see you." He said it, but he hardly sounded reassuring.
Cassandra could think of nothing appropriate to say in return.
A slight nod was her only response before she stepped into the carriage.
Moments later, the coachman urged the horses onwards, and the carriage rolled away from Ashford House.
---
The journey to Ainsbury Hall was a long one.
Lady Ainsbury had settled in one of the neighbouring towns farther away after her marriage many years ago, and though the sisters exchanged letters frequently, Cassandra herself had not visited her aunt in quite some time.
She rested one elbow against the window as the bustling streets of the capital gradually gave way to open fields.
She found herself wondering how the meeting would unfold.
Would Aunt Eleanor greet her warmly, as she always had? Or had the news of the scandal and broken engagement already tainted her perception of Cassandra?
Would she ask questions? Offer unsolicited advice, as she tended to do?
Would she pretend not to notice the distance that now existed between Cassandra and the rest of her family?
Then there was her mother.
What was she supposed to say after all that had happened?
Would Vivienne offer an apology? Did Cassandra even want one?
The questions chased one another around her mind without ever arriving at an answer.
Outside, the road stretched endlessly beneath the afternoon sky. The city had disappeared completely now, leaving only the occasional distant farmhouse or cluster of trees to break the monotony of the landscape.
Fields gave way to woodland. Woodland gave way to rolling hills.
The rhythmic sway of the carriage gradually settled into something almost hypnotic.
Cassandra blinked. Her eyelids felt weirdly heavy.
She frowned. How peculiar.
She had slept reasonably well the previous night. Perhaps she was simply more tired than she had realised. The past several weeks had demanded more from her than she cared to admit, and perhaps the exhaustion had finally caught up with her.
Another few minutes passed. Keeping her eyes open became more difficult.
She shifted in her seat, sitting a little straighter. The effort lasted all of thirty seconds before the heaviness returned. A yawn escaped her before she could suppress it.
Lulled by the alluring promise of slumber, she rested her head lightly against the cool glass of the carriage window.
Only for a moment, she told herself.
She merely wished to close her eyes briefly, nothing more. After all, she had never been able to nap during a carriage ride. The cramped quarters and constant movement usually made doing so impossible for her.
But this time was different. Darkness claimed her almost instantly.
---
A sharp jolt of the carriage startled her awake.
Cassandra blinked several times, momentarily unsure of how much time had passed.
Minutes?
Hours?
She could not tell.
Her neck ached, and her limbs felt oddly heavy. Even lifting her head required more effort than it should have.
She rubbed her temple, feeling a painful throbbing there.
She felt odd.
Surely she had not become ill. She had been perfectly well that morning.
The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced before. It was an overwhelming weariness that seemed to have seeped into every crevice of her being, weighing down her limbs and dulling her thoughts.
She drew a slow breath and attempted to gather her thoughts.
Instead, another wave of drowsiness swept over her.
Her head dipped. She caught herself just before sleep overtook her again.
No, she could not arrive at her aunt’s home in such a state.
She forced herself to sit upright and looked out the window.
The countryside beyond had become unfamiliar. Not that she had expected to recognise every stretch of road.
Still...
She reached upward and tapped lightly against the carriage roof, and the carriage slowed slightly.
"Where are we now?" she called. The words sounded slightly slurred, and her tongue felt swollen.
"As expected, my lady," came the coachman’s reassuring reply. "We’re not too far off now."
Cassandra relaxed.
Of course.
It had been hours already, and they must be nearing Ainsbury Hall.
She leaned back on her seat once more, allowing her head to rest against the cushioned upholstery. She intended only to close her eyes for a moment.
Instead, she dozed off and awakened again sometime later.
This time, opening her eyes felt like lifting an impossible weight.
Her entire body seemed reluctant to obey her. Even her breathing felt sluggish, each breath coming slower than the last.
A coiling dread settled in the pit of her stomach.
Her mouth had become unbearably dry, as though the back of her throat were coated with sand. She swallowed reflexively, but the motion did little to relieve the discomfort.
She tapped the roof again.
"...Have we arrived at larkston?" she asked, pitching her voice loud enough to be heard.
"We’ll be there soon, my lady," the coachman called back.
Each sway of the carriage made her stomach lurch.
Soon. The answer should have reassured her, but it didn’t. Not this time and she could not explain why.
Nothing had happened, yet she felt a strange foreboding, and unease had begun winding itself around her ribs. It tightened with every passing minute, until even the air inside the carriage seemed too stuffy to breathe.
She tried to reason with herself. Perhaps she truly was falling ill. Perhaps her aunt’s physician would know what to make of these peculiar symptoms and could explain why she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time.
That was her last thought before unconsciousness claimed her once more.