A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  “Robbie went to the kitchen to create one of his concoctions. But I don’t mind. Look what it’s merited me.” His hand stroked her waist. “You are a trim but strong little thing.”

  He pressed his face toward hers, but the bonnet prevented contact. Cassie tried to maneuver Sebastian toward the bed, but he refused to move.

  “Just let me regain my feet for a moment,” he suggested in a husky whisper. “You needn’t flee like a scared rabbit.”

  “I’m not afraid; I’m late. Your mother is waiting for me to join her for the ride to church. It is Sunday, after all.”

  “She’ll wait. She’s a very patient woman.” Sebastian trailed his fingers against Cassie’s neck. “You, on the other hand, don’t seem very patient at all.”

  “I’m not,” Cassie declared. She pulled away, hoping he would stand on his own, but instead Sebastian began to slip to the floor again. Putting her arm around him once more, Cassie bore his touch as best she could. “You must help me get you back to bed.”

  “I would certainly go there if you were to join me,” he said with a suggestive laugh.

  “Your comments are completely inappropriate, Mr. Jameston.”

  “I know,” he said with a grin. “I’m a bit of a rogue.”

  “To say the least.” Cassie forced him to move by pressing her hip and shoulder against him.

  Sebastian allowed her help but did nothing to assist. He slumped against her as though he had no strength whatsoever. His legs seemed to be made of rubber.

  “You could be my companion,” he said, smiling. “I’m really pleasant company when you get to know me.”

  “But I do not wish to know you.”

  “You feel so good in my arms,” he murmured. “I could remain like this for some time.”

  “And if you did so, you would probably lose that leg,” she chided. “You are very sick, Mr. Jameston. You’re lucky your limb has not had to be removed altogether.”

  “Please call me Sebastian. Better yet, call me Sebbie. That’s what my intimate friends call me.”

  “Intimate friends like your mistress?” Cassie immediately regretted her comment but tried not to let Sebastian see it in her expression or tone.

  He laughed and straightened ever so slightly. “I see my mother has already spoiled your good opinion of me.”

  “I had no good opinion to spoil, Mr. Jameston.”

  They were finally to the bed, and Cassie turned without warning to position Sebastian so he would fall back against the mattress. What she hadn’t counted on was having him pull her down with him.

  Without thinking, she slapped him hard against the face and scurried back onto her feet just as Robbie entered the room.

  “What’s going on?”

  “She couldn’t resist me,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “I told her I was much too weak to fend her off, but she didn’t care.”

  Robbie laughed. “You do have a way with women.”

  “He has no such thing. He fell, and you were not here to help him. Now you are, and I will no longer bear his abuse nor allow any ridicule from you.” She marched to the door, then turned. “The next time you fall, I’ll leave you to your curses and moans.”

  The men laughed as she hurried from the room. Cassie slammed the door closed behind her and muttered under her breath, “Mrs. Jameston was right. He is a scallywag.”

  Cassie tried to compose herself as she walked slowly down the stairs. Sebastian’s actions had unnerved her. No man had ever taken such liberties with her. She felt her face grow hot remembering the way he’d touched her. She found herself longing for another bath to wash off any reminders.

  “Goodness, child, I thought I’d have to send Ada in search of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cassie said, her gaze fixed on the floor.

  “Are you all right?”

  Mrs. Jameston’s concern was comforting. Cassie didn’t want to upset her, so she went to where Brumley held her shawl. “I’m fine.” She pulled the light wrap around her shoulders. “I’m sorry to have delayed us. I hope we won’t be late.”

  The older woman eyed her questioningly but said nothing. It was only after they were settled in the carriage that Mrs. Jameston spoke again.

  “You might as well tell me what’s wrong. I can read in your expression that something has greatly upset you.”

  Cassie knew it was senseless to try and keep it from her. “Sebastian fell, and I went to assist him when I realized no one else was coming to his aid.”

  “Oh dear, what did he do?”

  “Well, he was on the floor so I helped him back up. He mauled me all the way as I helped him back to bed.” She looked away, feeling her cheeks grow quite warm. “Then I pushed him back onto the bed, hoping to free myself from his clutches, but he dragged me down with him.”

  “I am so very sorry,” Mrs. Jameston said quietly.

  “You warned me, but I thought with his injury he would be less of a threat. It was my mistake. I should have called for someone. But little harm was done. It merely shook me. I’ve never been touched by a man in such a forward manner.”

  “I will speak to him. In fact, I will pay for him to move into a hotel. I won’t have you threatened with his behavior.”

  Cassie held up her gloved hand. “Please do nothing on my account. My pride is smarting once again, but nothing else has been damaged. I couldn’t bear to be the reason you sent your only child away.”

  Mrs. Jameston sighed and leaned back against the leather upholstery. “I thought things would be so different. I thought Sebastian would be a comfort in my old age. I had two other sons who died, and I always worried that Sebastian would follow suit. Instead, he lived, but he became a complete abomination in light of everything I believe and hoped he would learn.”

  “Tell me about your other children. Tell me about your husband,” Cassie said, hoping it would cause Mrs. Jameston to focus on something other than the incident.

  “I was given in an arranged marriage to a man nearly twenty years my senior,” the woman began. “I thought it a tragedy, but in time I came to truly love Worther Jameston. Bristol was born two years after we wed, and I’d never known greater joy. We moved to the Federal City—Washington—where my husband worked as an aide to the president.”

  “How exciting. You must have enjoyed that a great deal.”

  Mrs. Jameston nodded. “For a time. Plymouth was born in 1808. They were two of the sweetest boys. So loving. When Bristol was seven he fell from a tree and broke his arm. The break was quite severe and he developed a blood infection. He died in my arms a few weeks later.” She turned to stare at the passing houses. “I was devastated, as was my poor husband.”

  Cassie patted her hand lovingly. “I cannot imagine how awful it would be to lose a son.”

  The older woman drew a deep breath. “When the British invaded the capital, I had to flee with Plymouth on my own. My husband was elsewhere, and although we had a plan for escape, I was terrified. It was a night unlike any other. People were hysterical and the terror was contagious.

  “I took Plymouth and went to where Mr. Jameston had arranged for us to cross the Potomac under the guard of Federal soldiers. Halfway out, however, Plymouth fell from the ferry and nearly drowned. A soldier jumped in after him and saved his life. The irony of the entire matter was that Plymouth developed a deep love of swimming and boating after that.” She smiled sadly. “He was always in or around the water. He loved it so, but it took his life the summer after he turned twenty-one.”

  “What happened?” Cassie asked softly.

  “He was lost at sea. Drowned during a fierce storm. Sebastian wasn’t yet two years old, otherwise I might have walked into the ocean and drowned myself. I was beyond grief. I felt that nothing could ever comfort me again. Mr. Jameston tried, but he was grief-stricken as well. He focused on his work, and I tried to put my attention on Sebastian. Unfortunately, I either ignored or overindulged him, depending on the state of my mind. When I was so deep in sorr
ow, I couldn’t even bear to be with him. I feared loving him, only to lose him. Mr. Jameston was much the same. In time, as our grief subsided, we wanted to make up for our mistakes and indifference. We were somehow convinced that if we showered Sebastian with enough gifts and indulged his desires, he would equate it all with our love for him.”

  Cassie could understand the older woman’s reasoning. People were strange in the ways they chose to deal with grief. She easily remembered the way she and her mother had possessively doted on Elida after their father had died.

  “You’ve certainly had to endure more than your share of tragedy and injustice,” Cassie finally said.

  “But despite all of that,” Mrs. Jameston replied, “I learned to trust God. There seemed no other alternative. At first I wanted nothing to do with Him, but in time, I felt such emptiness that I could not bear my sorrow.”

  “I know how that is. I was so angry with God when my father died. I thought He had abandoned us. My poor mother sat there with her new baby and didn’t speak for days. I thought she might go completely to pieces, but she had to stay strong for Elida.”

  Mrs. Jameston nodded. “In time, I came to see that I needed to be strong for Sebastian, but by then, I suppose it was too late.” She sighed. “He hasn’t always been the person you see now. He was a good child. Loving and kind—at least for a time.”

  The carriage pulled to a stop at Christ Church. Cassie spied Mark Langford waiting for them. He came over quickly and opened the carriage door before the driver could move.

  “Good morning, ladies.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Langford,” Mrs. Jameston replied. “Forgive our tardiness.” She allowed Mark to help her down, then turned. “Does not our Miss Stover look absolutely charming this morning?”

  Mark smiled as he met Cassie’s gaze. She felt her cheeks flush once again as he spoke. “She does indeed. That gown is lovely, but surely no more beautiful than the occupant.”

  Cassie allowed him to assist her from the carriage. “You are both quite kind. However, I believe the gown has far more to do with the beauty of my appearance than you give it credit. I’m certain I have never known anything so lovely. The seamstress outdid herself.”

  “Pshaw,” Mrs. Jameston said with a chuckle. “She makes my clothes, as well, and I do not look half so good.” She immediately turned to Mark. “Mr. Langford, I am pleased to see that you have joined us. I do hope you will accompany us home for luncheon after services.”

  Mark nodded and held out his arm for her to take. “I would be honored. Thank you very much.”

  Cassie seemed greatly preoccupied as the sermon concluded, and Mark couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. As he escorted the ladies from church, he contemplated how he might approach the matter.

  “Mr. Langford, I’d like you to meet my mother, Mrs. Dora Stover.” Cassie pulled her mother forward. A young girl was quick to follow. Cassie smiled and hugged her close. “And this is my little sister, Elida.”

  Elida gave a deep curtsy. “I am charmed to the depths of my being.”

  Cassie laughed. “My sister tends to be a bit eccentric with her language at times.”

  Mark smiled at the little girl. She was very much like Cassie in appearance—same broad smile and big eyes. “I am charmed to meet you as well, Miss Elida.” He gave her a little bow, then turned to her mother. “And you, Mrs. Stover.” His bow was a little more formal as Cassie’s mother curtsied. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Dora, would you and Elida care to join us for luncheon?

  Mr. Langford has already agreed to come,” Mrs. Jameston interjected.

  “Oh, may we please, Mother?” Elida pleaded. “I’ll simply languish away if we have to eat pork roast again.”

  Cassie elbowed her sister. “I thought it was chicken and dumplings you had tired of.”

  Elida smiled up in an innocent manner. “You can languish away from more than one thing.”

  Mrs. Stover rolled her eyes heavenward. “I am certain no one is in jeopardy of languishing. I also cannot think of anything more pleasurable than sharing a Sunday dinner with friends.”

  “Nor can I,” Mark said with a grin. “I counted myself blessed to have the company of two lovely ladies, but now I’m doubly blessed to have four such companions.”

  “Why don’t you ride with us, Dora? I know you walked to church, but it’s a considerable distance to my house. We’d love to have you and Elida with us.”

  Elida clutched her gloved hands together under her chin. “Oh, that would be divine!”

  “I think so too,” Cassie’s mother replied, shaking her head at Elida’s melodramatics. “We shall be happy to join you, Mrs. Jameston.”

  As they journeyed to the Jameston residence, Mark on his mount and the ladies in the carriage, Mark hoped he might have time to speak privately with Cassie and approach the subject of Sebastian and his dealings. He wanted to discover whatever details Cassie might share, but at the same time, he didn’t want to push her into a place that would ruin any chance he might have of furthering the relationship. After all, as long as he could continue to see Cassie, he would have the ability to be close to Sebastian.

  He felt a twinge of guilt as they reached the house and the women were helped from the carriage. Cassie deserved to know the truth. He didn’t want to simply use her for whatever information she could give. Still, what if he told her the truth and she revealed it to Mrs. Jameston? Or worse, told Sebastian what he was up to?

  Portland snorted out a puff of air as if he could read Mark’s thoughts. Dismounting, Mark gave the gelding a gentle pat on the neck. “I know, boy. I know.” He tied off the horse, then followed the women into the house. Mr. Brumley awaited him and quickly took charge of his hat and gloves.

  “Cassie, why don’t you take everyone out into the garden? I’ll see to our dinner and join you very soon.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Cassie said. “Mother, you will love Mrs. Jameston’s garden.”

  “I love her house,” Elida said in complete awe. “Look at that beautiful staircase!” She stood gape-mouthed as she gently stroked the polished wood.

  “Close your mouth, Elida,” Mrs. Stover said, laughing. “Mrs. Jameston will believe you were raised to have no manners.”

  Mark followed behind the women, amused at the animated way Elida danced down the hall. Her imagination seemed to run wild in the face of such luxury.

  “Imagine living here, Mama. It would be like you were royalty. Oh, Cassie, is it just wonderful? I would swoon every day if I lived here.”

  Cassie laughed and gave her sister a hug. “Then it’s good that you do not live here. But you are right. It is quite wonderful. I’ve never known such beauty and elegance. Mrs. Jameston bought me new gowns, like this one, and all new shoes and hats. I cannot even begin to tell you how amazingly generous she is.”

  Cassie opened the French doors leading out onto the beautiful cobblestone walkway. “Mrs. Jameston told me this was her favorite place, and I believe it has become mine as well,” Cassie told them. “The trees offer such restful shade in the afternoon. Mrs. Jameston said that when everything is in full bloom, it’s like a little sanctuary back here.”

  “Little? But it’s so big,” Elida said as she ran out into the grass and began to spin, her arms flapping up and down like a bird. She stopped and laughed as if amused by some private joke. “And look at the flowers! They’re so beautiful.”

  Mrs. Stover followed her daughter and chuckled. “Yes, this is a lovely garden. Why don’t we go and explore?”

  As the twosome walked away, Mark said to Cassie, “While they are occupied, I wanted to ask if you are well. You looked upset this morning.”

  Cassie frowned. “I was upset, but truly, I am fine. I had a bit of . . . an imposition forced upon me.”

  It was Mark’s turn to frown. “What kind of imposition, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

  “Well, I hate to say this, but I had some unsavory interaction with
my employer’s son. I went to help Mr. Jameston after he fell in his room. There was no one else around, and when I went to him, he was . . . well . . . overly friendly.” She flushed. “I can’t believe I just told you this.”

  “Someone should speak to him,” Mark said gruffly. “That’s hardly something to be allowed.”

  “Oh, I know. I spoke to his mother, and she offered to send him to a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. She already struggles with her feelings for him. He’s her son, and he’s sick.”

  “He’s well enough to molest helpless young women.”

  “I’m hardly helpless. When he pulled me into bed, I slapped him quite vigorously.”

  “He pulled you into bed?” Mark felt his anger stirred.

  Cassie bit her lip and shook her head. “That sounded so awful—which it was, but nothing happened.” She smiled. “Let’s just forget about it. It was upsetting, but I shall know better than to assist him next time.”

  Mark nodded. “I hope you will stay away from him.”

  “I will. And what of you and your business in Philadelphia? Will you be with us much longer?”

  “Why don’t we sit? I would very much like to explain something.” Mark offered his arm and they walked to where the iron settee and chairs were positioned.

  Cassie took a seat on the settee, but Mark found it served his purpose to stand. “I don’t know quite where to begin, but it has to do with the loss of my best friend.”

  “I’m so sorry. When did this happen?” Cassie questioned.

  He heard the sincere concern and sympathy in her voice and smiled. “A few weeks back. We had been friends for many years, and losing him has been most difficult to bear.”

  “I know how that can be.” She held his gaze and smiled. “I’m sure he must have been quite a wonderful person, if he was your best friend.”

  Mark smiled. “Richard was a good man. We were working together and he came here to Philadelphia to investigate a problem.” Mark chose his words carefully. He was still uncertain how much he could share. “Richard . . . was killed. Murdered.”

  “How awful.” Cassie put her hand to her throat. “I cannot even fathom such a horrific thing. Who did it?”