A Lady of Secret Devotion (33 page)

There was scarcely time to get Elida and her mother from the house before Sebastian came waltzing in as though everything were right with the world. He found the ladies in his mother’s bedroom. The women had hurried there only moments before, after Miriam had come running in from the garden to announce his return, but they looked for all intents and purposes to have been there for hours.

It did little to comfort Cassie to know that Mark, Mr.

Westmoreland, and two of his friends occupied her bedroom.

She knew it would be difficult to act as though the house fire were nothing more than an accident. It would be her finest performance to date, if she was able to pull it off.

“So you have returned,” Sebastian said, eyeing the women as they sat calmly in front of the hearth.

“Yes,” Mrs. Jameston said. “There was a horrible fire, and we found ourselves with little choice.”

“A fire? At the spa?” Sebastian asked in mock surprise.

“No. We were with Mrs. Stover. Given the wondrous results from her soup, I wanted to put myself into her care for a few days,” Mrs. Jameston replied easily.

“I see. Why did you not notify me? It would have been good to have known where you were.”

Mrs. Jameston met her son’s icy gaze. “I felt confident that you could find me if needed. You were always very good at such things.”

Sebastian leaned casually against the fireplace mantel. “I see. Well, tell me of this fire. Was anyone harmed?”

“No, the good Lord kept us safely in His care. Such accidents are fearful things, however. It made us all very mindful of the frailty of life.”

“Accident? How did the fire start?”

Cassie looked away at the ball of yarn she pretended to roll. If she wasn’t careful, she would give it all away. She had to be strong. She had to be calm. Drawing a deep breath, she heard Mrs. Jameston reply.

“It’s difficult to say. Most likely a candle was carelessly left burning.”

A knock came on the bedroom door, and Cassie nearly jumped out of the chair. She looked at Sebastian, then quickly looked away. He laughed.

“You certainly are jumpy.” He went to the door and opened it. “Yes, Brumley?” Cassie heard him question. She didn’t dare turn around.

“Mr. McLaughlin has arrived. He says it’s urgent you join him immediately.”

Sebastian muttered something, then left without another word. Cassie leaned back in the chair, feeling as though she could barely draw breath. Much more of this intrigue and she’d pass out cold. The women sat in silence for several minutes before Cassie got to her feet.

“I’m going to my room for a moment.”

But before she could leave, Ada appeared at Mrs. Jameston’s door. She entered quickly and crossed to where the women were. “Mr. Brumley said to tell you that Mr. Jameston has left the house. He mentioned his intention to be back by supper.”

Mark came in from Cassie’s room. It was evident he’d heard everything. “Did he say where he was going?”

“No,” Ada replied. “He seemed in a hurry, but otherwise there was no mention of where he was off to.”

Mark nodded. “I suppose there is nothing to be done about it. We will simply have to wait him out.”

Cassie hated the idea of facing Sebastian again. Mark seemed to understand. He came to her and took hold of her shoulders.

“You did just fine. I know it was hard.”

“I’m not entirely sure I can sit through that again. It took all of my self-control not to attack him. When I think of what could have happened . . . what did happen . . . My father built that house for my mother—it was all she had left of him.”

“No. That’s not true. She has you and Elida. You’re both safe, and that means far more. Ask her, and see if I’m not speaking the truth.”

Cassie felt her shoulders slump forward. “I know you’re right, but I cannot help the feelings I have.”

“Give it time, my darling.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “So many times in my life, I have felt overwhelmed by my own anger. Anger that God would allow my wife to die and leave me behind. Anger that God would allow a monster to kill my best friend. Such ire serves no purpose, however.

The anger will merely burn inside until it destroys the good things and leaves ashes and bitterness in its place. Just as the fire destroyed your home, anger will destroy your heart. And I couldn’t bear for that to happen.”

His words were comforting, but also difficult to hear. Cassie knew the importance of letting her anger go—of letting God control her heart—but it was so hard.

“I love you, Cassie. Think on that rather than the hatred and ugliness of Sebastian Jameston.” Mark smiled and pulled her close. “Think of the future—not the past.”

CHAPTER 27

S
ebastian looked at the bruised and bloodied man now crumpled on the floor. The sight of the man groveling there on the ground, pleading for his life, gave Sebastian a kind of exhilarated energy.

“If you enjoy this pain as much as I do,” Sebastian said in a snide, assured tone, “then, by all means, continue to avoid giving me the truth.”

“I . . . agh . . .” The man moaned and rolled away from Sebastian as if to guard from further attack.

“Stand him up,” Jameston ordered.

Robbie and another man quickly lifted the victim. He sagged between them, apparently lifeless, but Sebastian knew there was a great deal of life left in the man. Life that he could squeeze out a little at a time until the wretch confessed everything he knew.

“I want to know who you work for, and why.”

The man’s head rolled from side to side in exhausted defiance. Sebastian had to admire his strength. But his admiration went only so far. “Get the pliers.”

“No!” the man half moaned, half screamed.

“Then give me the name.”

The man remained silent for another few moments and finally nodded. “Westmoreland. He hired me to help in an investigation.”

“What investigation?” Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Tell me now.” He forced the man’s head back so that he had no choice but to look at him—if the swollen and bloody eyes were able to see anything at all.

“He’s helping another man . . . with the missing cargoes . . . and the death . . . of his friend.”

“What is the man’s name?” His informant was losing consciousness so Sebastian put his hands around the man’s throat and shook him. “Tell me his name!”

“Langford. Marcus Langford.”

Sebastian dropped his hold as if the man had suddenly grown red-hot. Langford? Miss Stover’s Mr. Langford? He growled out a string of expletives, wondering just how much of his operation had been jeopardized.

“How could I have missed it?” He turned to walk away then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Kill him. Let it be a lesson to any other traitor in our midst.”

Ada had just arrived in Mrs. Jameston’s bedroom with afternoon tea when Sebastian returned to the house. “Your son is back,” she whispered. “Mr. Westmoreland is here as well. He barely made it up the servants’ stairs ahead of me.” She knew the other two police officers and Mark were in place behind the adjoining bedroom door.

“Then hopefully this affair can be concluded,” Mrs. Jameston said. “You’d best run along now, Ada. I do not want you in harm’s way.” The maid started to say something, then thought better of it and hurried from the room.

Cassie poured a cup for herself and for Mrs. Jameston, and tried to bolster her courage. She could hear Jameston booming out orders to Brumley—something about Robbie returning by supper and to see that he was included.

They had purposefully left Mrs. Jameston’s door open to the hall in order to better hear when her son came home, but Cassie seriously doubted that it was necessary. The man seemed quite satisfied to yell at the top of his lungs.

“I hope this will be over soon,” Cassie said, taking her seat. She looked at the small table between them and noted that Ada had included some cookies. “Would you care for something to eat?”

Mrs. Jameston shook her head. “No. I’m just as anxious as you are. I’m afraid food would only serve to further upset my already-roiling digestion.”

Cassie nodded. She could hear pounding footsteps on the stairs and knew that Sebastian was on his way. Looking to Mrs. Jameston, who appeared far calmer than she suggested, Cassie took a deep breath. “Oh, Father . . . help us.”

“So you are still holed up here. An entire mansion is yours to roam at will, and yet you sit here,” Jameston said as he entered the room without as much as a knock. “What a very dull life you lead.”

“We had quite enough excitement last night,” his mother replied. “Will you join us for tea?”

“No.” He turned his icy eyes on Cassie. “I’ve come for something much more important. We need to discuss several matters, including your last will and testament, Mother.”

Mrs. Jameston looked up with a blank expression. “Whyever would we need to do that? I’ve already seen my lawyer, and he assures me that everything is in order.”

“Yes, well, I might have agreed with him, prior to your recent changes to give my fortune away.”

Mrs. Jameston pointed at a chair in the corner. “Oh, do sit down. I refuse to discuss anything with you towering over me in such a rude fashion.”

Sebastian grimaced and seemed to weigh the matter momentarily. He pulled some papers from his pocket and slapped them down on the table beside the tea tray. “I have no need for a chair. I’ve merely come to see you sign these papers.

Miss Stover can stand as witness.”

“And what papers are these?” Mrs. Jameston asked, not bothering to even glance at them.

“I’ve had your will rewritten.” He looked at her as if daring her to challenge him. When she said nothing, he continued.

“You were quite heartless to reject me in such a fashion. Especially when you added insult to injury by making Miss Stover your beneficiary.” He smiled. “Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about that?”

“I did not concern myself with it one way or the other,” his mother admitted. She took a long sip of her tea. “I hardly believe it to be your business.”

“It
is
my business. My father built that fortune with the intention that it would one day fall to me.”

“He also assumed that you would be an upstanding citizen who would put the needs of others before your own. Your father had a great many dreams where you were concerned, and you disappointed him in every one.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, and his face went rather pale. Cassie felt a growing unease. It was clear the man was enraged, and while she knew that goading him into confessions was a necessary evil, she feared the outcome. What if Mark couldn’t get to them quickly enough? What if Jameston had plans that none of them could counter?

Mrs. Jameston put her cup and saucer aside. “Sebastian, you were such a joy to me at one time. I am sorry that I wasn’t a better mother to you. I blame myself for overindulging your whims, but I blame you for not only refusing to do what was right but also yielding yourself over to evil.”

He laughed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You tried to kill me. To poison me,” his mother said flatly.

Cassie forced herself not to react. She kept her focus on the tea in her cup and prayed that her rapid breathing wouldn’t betray her desperate fear. She waited for what seemed like an eternity for Sebastian to reply.

When he finally spoke, he acted as though he were discussing nothing more heavy-hearted than the weather. “Yes, well, it was necessary. You simply have outlived your usefulness.”

Cassie’s eyes shot up at this. She met Sebastian’s cool expression and shook her head. “You are a complete monster.

How could you speak in such a manner? She has loved you more dearly than life.”

“Then she’ll have no regret in giving it up. After all, if she loves me as you say, then she’ll desire that I be happy.”

“And killing your mother is the only way you can be happy?”

Cassie slammed her cup and saucer onto the table. “You are without any conscience whatsoever.”

“What good would a conscience do me?” He came to her side, and Cassie couldn’t help but shudder as he reached out and touched her cheek. She jerked away, but to her surprise he grabbed her and buried his hands deep in her hair. Forcing her head back to meet his eyes, he grinned in a leering fashion.

“A conscience would not allow me the plans I have for you.

And I do have plans for you, my sweet Cassie. Plans that start with a better understanding of who your fiancé is and why he is threatening my livelihood.”

Cassie stiffened. How could he know about Mark? She tried to twist away.

“Enough of this nonsense. Unhand her, Sebastian,” his mother ordered.

Sebastian looked at the older woman but never loosened his hold on Cassie. “You are hardly in a position to order me around. You have slipped around together, conspiring against me. You sought out your lawyer to change your will, then hid away so you wouldn’t have to face me with what you’d done.”

“The only reason I left my home was for fear of my life,” his mother replied.

“Yes, well that proved to be a rather poor decision. Didn’t it?” He stared hard at her for a moment, then returned his attention to Cassie. “Pity about your mother’s house.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

He laughed heartily and released her with a shove. Cassie fell back against the chair, but immediately righted herself. She needed him to confess. She had to get him to admit what he had done.

“Why did you set fire to our home?” Cassie demanded to know.

“Well, I suppose the answer is quite simple. I needed my mother here where I could better control the situation.”

“But you could have killed us all. My mother and sister,” Cassie began. “They have never done anything to you, yet you would have seen them burned alive.”

“Or dead,” he said snidely. “I really didn’t care and cannot pretend that I did. That would simply be cruel.”

“Everything you do is cruel,” Cassie countered. She started to get up from her chair, but he pushed her back.

“Stay where you are. Until my mother signs these papers, neither of you is going anywhere.”