A Lady of Secret Devotion (7 page)

“He really won’t hurt you,” Mark whispered against her ear.

Shivering all the more, Cassie’s eyes flew open. She was speechless as Mark maneuvered her hand to stroke the animal’s mane. She wasn’t exactly sure whose nearness was most disturbing—Mark’s or the horse’s.

“See now? He’s perfectly calm. He likes you.”

“I’m sorry that I cannot return the feelings,” Cassie barely managed to say.

“You need to overcome your fear so that things like this won’t happen in the future.”

Cassie knew he was probably right, but at the moment she couldn’t think clearly. A part of her longed to flee the presence of this intimidating beast, while an equally encouraging part wanted to remain and enjoy the company of this dashing young man.

Mark finally released his hold on her, and Cassie reluctantly stepped away. Portland turned to nuzzle her, causing Cassie to jump.

“I thought you said he wouldn’t eat me!” she said, closing her eyes tight.

Mark watched the young woman with amazement. She was truly terrified of Portland. He’d never seen such a fear of horses prior to this.

"He won't eat you. He's trying to see if you have a treat for him. Here." Mark reached into his pocket for a lump of sugar. "I shouldn't spoil him so, but give him this."

Cassie looked at him hard. “And how do you propose I do that?”

“Hold out your hand.” She did so and Mark placed the sugar on her gloved palm. “Now feed it to him.”

“You can’t be serious. Look at the size of his mouth—his teeth. He could bite off my hand in one move.”

“But he won’t,” Mark said with a grin. “Just open your hand flat and lift it to him. I promise he will not amputate any part of you.”

Cassie did as she was told and nearly shrieked when Portland gobbled up the offering. He pushed against her for more, but Mark took charge.

“That’s enough, you greedy old man.” He turned to Cassie. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Compared to battling lions in Africa, I suppose it was quite simple,” she answered.

Mark couldn’t help but laugh. “And what would you know of battling lions in Africa?”

“Only that it would terrify me and leave me without hope of survival. Come to think of it—that’s exactly how I feel about your horse.”

Mark took her by the arm. “Come. Why don’t you let me escort you to the door? Just in case a lion . . . or another horse . . . jumps out.”

She giggled and lowered her head as if embarrassed once again. “I suppose it would be the safe thing to do. But I’d rather you leave . . . him.” She motioned with her head toward Portland.

Mark nodded and dropped his hold on her. He quickly tied Portland to the iron gate and walked casually at Cassie’s side. “So, you said that you had no liking of Mrs. Jameston’s son.”

“No one but the cook does, as far as I can tell. Apparently, the man is quite exasperating.” man is quite exasperating.”

“In what way?”

Cassie shrugged. “In most, I suppose. Even his friends have a tendency to shoot him—or so it would seem.”

“What do you mean?” Mark looked at her and was surprised to find her watching him.

“Well, apparently there was some sort of play between him and his ruffian friend. A gun went off and the bullet went through Mr. Jameston’s thigh. It appears to be a very invasive wound, but he’s on the mend, according to his companion, Mr. McLaughlin.”

“But what does the doctor say?”

“Oh, he won’t allow for one. Said his friend was perfectly capable of treating the injury. He said it was just an accident amongst friends, but frankly, I think someone’s temptation got out of hand.”

Mark nodded. “There are folks who incite that kind of thing.”

“He was the reason I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. He had yelled at his mother and upset her just before I came out here for a walk. Mrs. Jameston is a wonderful woman whose gentle nature compels me to feel overly protective of her, I suppose. I’m afraid I was thinking ill thoughts as I stormed from the house. It serves me right to find myself in peril.” They had reached the front steps, and Cassie turned and gave him a smile. “Thank you again for saving me, fair knight.”

He bowed. “I like rescuing damsels in distress. In fact, if you have no qualms about it, I would like to stop by tomorrow morning and inquire after your health. You might yet find yourself injured, and I would want to take responsibility for any cost you might endure.”

She laughed. “Feel free to stop by, but I assure you I am fine.”

He watched her walk up the steps and pause at the door. Something about her made him feel rather breathless. Her delicate features glowed when she smiled, and her dark brown eyes seemed to twinkle with delight or amusement.

He stood there for a moment, even after she’d closed the door. Mark couldn’t help but wonder about the woman. She certainly had no lost love for Sebastian Jameston, and that might well work in Mark’s favor. At this point he had plans to see her in the morning. That would at least get him inside the house.

Walking over to where Portland stood, Mark couldn’t help but glance back at the house. A figure looked down at him from the second-story window at the far end. Was this Jameston? Mark felt his pulse quicken. He pretended not to notice the man as he mounted his horse.

Directing the animal down the street, Mark began to speculate. Sebastian Jameston was injured. Shot in the leg. The timing was right, and Mark couldn’t help but suspect that he’d been wounded in the fight with Richard. The police had stated that Richard managed to fire his own weapon before dying.

“This just adds to the clues,” he said aloud. Sebastian had no doubt been the one to kill Richard. “But how do I prove it?”

Chapter 6

T
he next morning Mark knocked on the Jameston door and waited with a sense of excitement for the meeting to unfold. He had considered this moment throughout the night. Not only did he enjoy Cassie’s company, but he was hopeful to catch a glimpse of Mr. Jameston. This would give him an added advantage. He would have the ability to survey Jameston’s domain, perhaps even get a chance to meet the man himself. Surely under such circumstances Jameston would never suspect that Mark’s presence had anything to do with investigating Richard’s death and the fraudulent insurance claims.

A stately older man opened the door. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” He handed the man his card. “I am Marcus Langford. Miss Stover is expecting me.”

“Very good, sir. Please come this way.”

Mark followed the man into the foyer, where the butler took his hat and gloves. “The ladies are awaiting you in here,” the man said, leading the way to an open door.

“Thank you.” Mark waited until the man announced him.

“Mr. Marcus Langford has arrived.”

Cassie got to her feet, but the older woman remained seated. “Mrs. Jameston, this is the man who saved my life yesterday. Mr. Langford, this is my employer and dear friend, Mrs. Jameston.”

Mark bowed in greeting and Mrs. Jameston smiled and nodded. “We are quite grateful to you, young man. Cassie has become invaluable to me, and I would truly have hated for anything to cause her harm.”

Smiling, Mark caught Cassie’s gaze. “I was glad to render service.”

“Please be seated,” Mrs. Jameston instructed. Cassie returned to the red fan-backed chair beside the older woman and smoothed out her dark green skirt.

“Thank you for allowing me to visit. I had worried that Miss Stover might have found injuries after further investigation.”

“I’m happy to say there are none, with exception to a little soreness in my . . . on my . . .” Cassie blushed and muttered, “A little soreness.”

Mark suppressed a laugh and caught Mrs. Jameston’s amused expression. Clearly the older woman wasn’t without a sense of humor.

“Tell us about yourself, Mr. Langford. I know little outside of the fact that you rescued Cassie and ride a massive red beast that all but spits fire.”

Mark did laugh out loud at this. “I would never want to contradict a lady’s recollection, but I assure you my mount is completely passive. As for me, I hail from Boston.”

“Another city of liberty,” Mrs. Jameston commented. “I have been there several times. I found it quite enjoyable. What brings you here?”

“Business. I’m here for a time on business.”

“I see. Well, what is your line of business? What does your father do?”

Mark was glad for the second question. He hadn’t really considered how he might reference his own line of work. Of course, he did dabble in investments. It was more of a hobby than anything. Then, too, he owned a part of his father’s hotel business.

“My family owns the Imperial Hotel in Boston.”

“I see. And are you planning to move your business to Philadelphia as well?”

A knock on the door saved Mark from having to reply. They all looked up and Mrs. Jameston cocked her head. “What is it, Mrs. Dixon?”

“Your son would like to see you. He’s . . . asked . . . for you to come immediately.”

Mark saw the older woman clench her jaw as her brows drew together. She rose and so he quickly got to his feet. Seeing him do so, she turned to Cassie. “Why don’t you two go into the garden? I’ve arranged for us to have a light refreshment there. Hopefully I will not be gone long.”

Cassie got up and nodded. Mrs. Dixon turned to lead the way as Mrs. Jameston crossed the room. Cassie turned to Mark. “If you follow me, I’ll show you to the garden.”

He quickly drew alongside her and offered his arm. “I’d much rather escort you.”

Cassie smiled and took hold of him. “You are very kind, fair knight. I accept.”

He laughed and walked with her through the house. “So you truly are without injury?”

“Yes, I am fine. I did, however, have nightmares last night. I cannot say my experience was a pleasant one, but I have survived physically unharmed.”

“How old were you when your father died, if I might “How ask?”

Cassie seemed not to mind the question at all. “I was fifteen. It was ten years ago this June. My sister, Elida, was but a few weeks old.” Cassie led the way into the garden and smiled as the sun’s warmth touched her face. “It is so very pleasant here. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“How could I not?” He smiled at her and noted that Cassie’s face flushed.

“This is Mrs. Jameston’s favorite place, and it’s rapidly becoming mine as well. The air seems so sweet here.”

She led him to an iron settee and chairs. Beside this, a cloth-covered table stood with glasses of something that looked quite refreshing.

“Would you care for lemonade? Mrs. Jameston had it made special for your visit.”

“Thank you.” He took a glass from Cassie and followed her to the chairs. She sat and he followed suit by taking the chair directly across from her.

“Mrs. Jameston comes here every day the weather permits,” Cassie offered. “She says it won’t be long before the honeysuckle and hyacinths will be in full bloom. Already there are beautiful tulips. I don’t pretend to know much about it all, but Mrs. Jameston promises to teach me.”

“And what do you know much about?” Mark asked in a teasing tone.

Cassie thought for a moment. “Honestly, not a great deal.” She frowned. “I had to stop going to school when my father died. My mother found herself rather destitute. She sold off the extra property we had, as well as my father’s mercantile, but there were expenses to pay. Eventually we had the house and a small bit of money, but no hope of more income in the future. My mother turned to the one thing she knew she could do—laundry and mending.” Cassie offered him a bittersweet smile.

“And this saw you through?”

Cassie nodded and took a sip of the lemonade. “We worked together. Elida was just a baby. My mother and I took turns working with the laundry and caring for her. Little by little, we had enough business to support our needs.”

“Your mother sounds very brave. Many women would give up—or turn to male relatives to provide.”

“There were no other male relatives. I think my mother might have given up, except for Elida. With a baby so dependent upon her for everything, Mother had no choice but to go on.”

“Would she not also have wanted to continue for your sake?” he asked, watching her closely.

“Oh, to be certain. I do not mean to suggest she cared for me any less than my sister. However, because of my age and temperament, I believe she thought I could handle anything. Truth be told, I was still suffering greatly from what I’d seen, but I knew she needed me.”

“It must have been terrible to witness your father’s accident.”

“Yes. It haunts me even now.”

Mark couldn’t help but wonder at this remarkable young woman who harbored such horrible memories. Obviously she had a strength deep within that allowed her to press forward, but she also had a remarkable sense of humor. she also had a remarkable sense of humor.

“How did it happen?” he finally asked.

Cassie lowered her gaze to the glass in her hand. “I had gone with him to visit friends. There was a new horse he was thinking of buying from them. He wanted to try it out first. I sat and watched as he mounted the horrible animal and began to ride. At first nothing went amiss, but something happened to startle the beast. He reared and my father was thrown. Apparently, seeing my father on the ground caused the horse even greater distress. He assaulted my father, vigorously pounding down upon him before the groom could come and quiet the animal.”

Her voice had grown so quiet, Mark had to lean forward to hear her. Her golden brown hair fell in tendrils against her face and framed her sad features. “I am sorry,” Mark said in a hushed manner. “I cannot imagine anything more horrendous for a child than to witness her father’s death.”

“I fainted, and when I came to, I was certain it had all been a bad dream.” Cassie looked up and Mark could see the moisture around her eyes. “But of course, it wasn’t. I’ve been terrified of horses ever since. They had to sedate me even to transport me back home in the carriage.”

Essie emerged from the house with a tray of pastries and cakes. “Mrs. Jameston said I was to serve you.” She placed the tray on the table and took up a small plate. “What would you like?”