A Lady of Secret Devotion (17 page)

“Gentlemen, I’ve asked Miranda to bring tea,” Mark’s mother said as she interrupted their discussion. Both men got to their feet.

Mark had chosen to stay with his parents rather than go back to the lonely house he’d shared so long ago with Ruth. He smiled his gratitude and nodded, but Nelson announced otherwise.

“I’m afraid I cannot stay. I would like you to come to the office tomorrow,” he told Mark. “I have some other things to share with you. Read the rest of the information and then we can discuss it.”

“Very well. I will see you tomorrow.”

Nelson smiled at Mark’s mother. “Thank you for your generous hospitality, Mrs. Langford.”

“You are most welcome. Any friend of Mark’s is always welcome in our home.”

“I’ll see myself out, Mark. Enjoy your tea,” Nelson said as the serving girl arrived with a tray.

“Set it over there, Miranda,” Mark’s mother instructed.

With Nelson gone, Mark gathered up the papers and tucked them inside a book he’d been reading. “What delights have you ordered for us today, Mother?”

“I had your favorites made,” his mother admitted. “I thought it might serve as a bribe.” She took a seat and motioned Miranda to leave. Once the girl was gone and Mark had taken a seat across from her, his mother continued.

“I know something is troubling you deeply. It’s more than Richard’s death and this horrible job you have taken on to find his killer. I want to know what has happened in Philadelphia to occupy your thoughts so completely.”

“I never could hide much from you.”

“A mother does not do a proper job of rearing a child if she cannot read him like a book.” She smiled. “What is troubling you so?”

“I find myself in a difficult situation. There is a young woman in Philadelphia—”

“How wonderful!” his mother exclaimed. “Have you fallen madly in love with her?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly.” He wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth, but he was trying hard to keep his thoughts from jumbling. “I asked for her help. You see, she lives at the residence where the man I’m investigating lives.”

His mother’s expression fell. “Oh dear. Is she . . . well . . . one of those women?”

Laughing, Mark leaned forward. “Goodness, no. She’s as prim and proper as any refined young lady. She is the companion to this man’s mother. She was living there prior to the man returning to the house. He was injured—probably when he killed Richard—and he went there to recuperate.”

His mother relaxed and nodded. “I see. And exactly what kind of help did you ask of her?”

“I asked her to pretend we were courting. If I had a vested interest in going to the house, I would be able to better observe the suspect.”

“And she agreed?”

“Yes.” Mark reached out and took a fruit tart without benefit of a plate or napkin. “Her name is Cassandra, but she’s called Cassie. She’s a beautiful woman, kind and loving. She has even convinced me to attend church on Sundays with her and her employer.”

“And is that a pretense as well?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Mark admitted with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve found myself listening a little more each time. I don’t wish to keep my heart hardened against God.” He paused and met his mother’s compassionate gaze. “I’m just still so confused by it all. Richard’s death. Cassie’s appearance in my life. This man’s threat to her well-being, as well as that of his mother.” He took a large bite of the tart and nearly swallowed it whole.

His mother nodded and poured the tea. “I suppose it would be useful to take each matter in separate doses. Consider them apart, rather than forcing them all in one container. God has a way of working out the details in bits and pieces, and before we know it, He has dealt with the overall scheme of things.”

She extended a cup and saucer to Mark. He took the tea and put the half-eaten tart alongside the cup. “But I don’t know where to start to sort it all out.”

“Start with the thing that is uppermost on your mind. I suppose that would be Richard’s death.”

Mark shook his head. “To be honest, I find Cassie there.”

“Indeed,” his mother said in a nonchalant manner. “And what does she do there?”

“Consumes me,” Mark admitted. “I find myself drawn to her like I’ve been with no other woman since Ruth.”

“Perhaps you should make your game of pretend a more substantial arrangement,” his mother said, smiling in a coy manner. She sipped her tea as if quite satisfied with her son’s announcement.

“But what if she has no interest in such things? I mean, I know she finds my company pleasant enough, but she wants to see this man behind bars as much as I do. What if that’s all there is to this?”

“I believe everything will sort itself out in time, dear boy.

However, if you truly want to make this woman permanent in your life, why not try turning on the charm that you are so capable of, and woo her?”

Mark put the cup and saucer on the table. “She’s not from a socially elite family. Her father was a merchant who died some ten years ago. Her mother has since made a living taking in laundry. Cassie is working as a companion. None of that matters to me, but I wouldn’t wish to make things uncomfortable for you and Father.”

“Pshaw. Your father once mucked out stables to make a living. You know we’ve never cared about such things. The upper class here still turns its nose up at the Langford name. They frequent our hotel often enough but seek to keep us firmly in our place otherwise. I cannot possibly imagine that your father would feel any differently than I do. We only want to see you happy. You’ve been alone much too long, and if this Cassandra woman makes you happy, then that is good enough for me.”

“It might mean my moving permanently to Philadelphia,” he said, knowing that wouldn’t sit well.

To his surprise, his mother shrugged. “I would miss you, of course, but I would not seek to stop you from true happiness.

After all, Philadelphia is not so very far away. We could always come for visits, as could you.”

Mark reached out and touched her arm. “Thank you. I knew your counsel would put my mind at ease. I’ve been trying to reconcile how I would deal with the situation if courting Cassie for real caused some kind of separation with you and Father.”

“Then wonder on that no longer.” She smiled broadly. “See there—we’ve already eliminated one of your problems. Go back to Philadelphia and win the heart of your young lady.”

CHAPTER 14

Y
ou’re doing very well,” Mark told Cassie. He had finally convinced her to sit atop Posie and allow Mark to lead them around the yard. Her fear of the animal had diminished somewhat, and he now knew it would only be a matter of time until she could overcome it completely.

“I don’t feel all that confident up here,” Cassie replied. “Sitting sidesaddle is not exactly easy. You really should try it sometime.”

He chuckled at her awkward seating. “I’m certain I would not care for it.”

Cassie gripped the reins with both hands. “I’m convinced it would be easier to ride backward.”

“Well, if that’s what you’d like to try . . .”

She shook her head and the ribbons of her riding bonnet flared out in the breeze. “Perhaps another time.”

Mark smiled. He’d been back in Philadelphia for over a week and had thoroughly enjoyed spending most of that time in Cassie’s company. She, too, seemed content. At least with him. She wasn’t at all happy that Sebastian had decided to remain in residence.

“You started to tell me about Mr. Jameston earlier. What were you going to say?”

Cassie frowned. “He’s quite recovered, but he refuses to leave. Mrs. Jameston is much better now, as well, but not at all happy about her son’s refusal to go. He tells her it’s his concern for her recovery, but we both know he’s up to something far more self-motivated. He’s had unsavory characters to the house at all hours of the day and night.”

“Have you overheard any conversations?”

“No, but he certainly has hushed discussions aplenty with that Robbie McLaughlin. They are often doing something in Mr. Jameston’s room until the wee hours of the morning.

I know this only because of the light shining from under his door at the end of the hallway. Oh, and some of the noise as they go up and down the stairs.”

Mark brought Posie back toward the stable, where Wills awaited them. “Miss Stover, you’re doing very well,” Wills encouraged. “You look like a proper horsewoman.”

“I feel like . . . well . . . I shan’t say. I do know I would not be long for this saddle without suffering some terrible affliction,” she announced as Mark lifted her from the horse’s back.

“I remember only too clearly how I used to beg my father to let me ride astride.”

“You’ll get used to it again,” Mark told her. “Before you know it, you’ll be jumping fences. Here, feed her this,” he directed and handed Cassie a piece of apple. “She’ll love you forever.”

“Is that all it takes to make someone love you?” Cassie blushed and looked away.

She fed the fruit to Posie, not at all the same fearful young woman she’d been when Mark had first introduced them. She was obviously embarrassed by her outburst, but he found that charming about her.

“See there,” he said softly. “She adores you.”

“I’ll see to her,” Wills announced, taking the reins from Mark. He led the horse away, leaving Cassie and Mark to stroll the gardens.

June’s warm weather had brought everything to full bloom. A variety of roses filled the air with such sweet scents, as did irises and other flowers unfamiliar to Mark. The Jameston garden was a peaceful sanctuary of blossoms and greenery, and having Cassie at his side only made it more so.

“Did your wife like to ride?”

Cassie’s question surprised him. “Yes, but it wasn’t as convenient for us to ride in Boston as it might have been elsewhere. There were the parks, of course, but Ruth preferred the open space of the countryside, and it was often difficult to get away.”

“So you lived in the city?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. He walked beside Cassie and paused when she bent to study a yellow rosebud. “We had a small house, not far from my parents. I own it still, but I’m rarely there. In fact, while I was in Boston this last time, I actually considered selling it.”

“But where would you live?” she asked, straightening to meet his expression.

“I’m not sure. I find that I like Philadelphia very much.” He studied her for a reaction and was pleased when she smiled.

“I’m certain Philadelphia would enjoy having you remain here as well.”

He chuckled. “Is that so?”

Cassie’s cheeks reddened as if she’d revealed too much. “So how did you meet your wife?”

“We were childhood friends. Our parents were very close, and I cannot remember a time when she wasn’t a part of my life.”

“How special to have that kind of history between you. It must have made her feel very safe.”

“Safe?” He looked at her quizzically. “That seems a strange way to put it. What of love?”

Cassie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. Love would definitely be a part of it. I didn’t mean to suggest your wife didn’t love you.”

“I didn’t think you were, but the issue of safety is also not one I would have thought to equate with our relationship.”

“Safety is very important to a woman,” Cassie countered.

“A woman needs to know that she is safe and protected—that she’ll be provided for and cared for. My mother . . .” She sighed and seemed to wrestle with how to best speak her thoughts.

“My mother always felt so content—so safe—while my father was alive. But when he died, everything changed. A woman’s entire world changes when her husband dies.”

“I’m sorry, Cassie. That must have been very hard.”

“It was. It was a loss of something familiar and good,” she said, growing thoughtful. “You and your wife knew each other’s past. You weren’t concerned about surprises that might rise up to separate and divide you. There were no secrets or unpleasant ordeals to hide from each other.”

“I suppose you are right on that matter. Although I’ve not ever truly considered it. Of course, she made me feel safe in other ways. I knew my heart was safe with her.” He smiled, feeling rather bittersweet. “Of course, she did betray me.”

“Oh, surely not. What did she do to betray you?” Cassie questioned, touching his arm lightly.

“She died.”

The realization dawned on Cassie, and she nodded as one who completely understood. “Yes, that sometimes happens. Like with my father.”

“I felt a similar betrayal when Richard died. He had been such a stalwart friend, especially after Ruth died. Losing him was like losing her all over again. Not to mention the separation it made me feel with God. I suppose I had come to trust God through Richard, instead of learning it for myself.”

“I don’t understand. How could you trust God through another person?”

He saw the genuine concern and interest in her expression. “I can’t completely explain that even to myself. My mother suggests it’s something to do with having to make my faith stand on its own. I had known God through my parents to begin with. Then Ruth had a deep faith, and so I naturally came alongside.

When she died, I was bitter, but Richard’s faith helped me to see that God hadn’t deserted me in Ruth’s death.”

Cassie nodded. “I see what you mean. It was the same for me with Father’s death. I thought I understood about God and His place in my life as a heavenly Father. I suppose when my earthly father died, however, it caused me to fear that perhaps I would lose God as well. I know for some time I felt alone and frightened. I didn’t know what the future might hold for us. Elida had just been born, and mother was still weak from giving birth. I was only fifteen and knew that everything would change. It was as if I took on the weight of the world.”

“Yes,” Mark agreed. “It’s just like that.”

Her expression changed quickly from one of compassion to fear—almost anger. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s Mrs. Jameston’s son. He’s watching us.” Cassie pressed a little closer. “He’s at the French doors and is just standing there, as if waiting for us to do something. Oh, I do wish he would go away.”