A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  Cassie laughed. “Me too.”

  “What are you girls giggling about over there?” Mrs. Jameston asked with a smile. “We were talking about princesses,” Cassie admitted.

  “Did I ever tell you that I once attended a party where Princess Victoria, now Queen Victoria, was also present?” Mrs. Jameston questioned. “Her mother kept her very secluded, but on this rare occasion she was allowed to attend. I cannot even remember what the party was all about, but I do remember her. She was so elegant and stately. A finer monarch England has never had.”

  “You met a real princess?” Elida said in awe. “Did she wear a crown?”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Jameston said with a smile.

  Just then, Mr. Brumley appeared at the door. “Mr. Lang-ford,” he announced.

  Cassie looked up to see Mark in his dark brown suit. He looked so handsome, and Cassie couldn’t help but feel her heart skip a beat. He made her feel special, and no other man had done that since her father was alive.

  “Mr. Langford, we’re very honored you could attend the party,” Mrs. Jameston declared. She stepped forward, and Mark gave her a bow.

  “The honor is all mine. I feel quite blessed to have been included. It’s hard to be a stranger so far from home.” He smiled and met Cassie’s gaze.

  For a moment, she felt embarrassed that he’d caught her staring but realized that it was only natural. Everyone was looking at him. She calmed her nerves and returned his smile.

  “Happy birthday, Miss Stover.”

  “Thank you. I must say this is such a treat. Mrs. Jameston has been most generous. I’m very glad you could attend.” She didn’t dare say more, or she might ramble on and on about how she couldn’t think of anything but seeing him again.

  “Cassie got a new princess dress,” Elida stated as if Mark couldn’t see for himself. “Isn’t she grand?”

  “She is quite pretty.” He held Cassie’s gaze.

  Elida sidled up to him as if they’d been the best of friends for years. “I always think Cassie is pretty,” she said rather conspiratorially, “but today, she is incomparable.”

  Cassie felt her face grow hot even as she wanted to laugh at her sister’s choice of words.

  “I would have to agree,” Mark said, giving Cassie a wink.

  She could only pray that they would change the subject or that perhaps the floor would open up and swallow her whole. It seemed so awkward to be embarrassed so completely by the attention of a handsome man. Of course, it had never happened to her before. She remembered the glances and affections of young men when she’d been but a girl, but those men seemed to rapidly vanish from her circle after her father died and their social status dropped considerably.

  “I believe I’ll go check on the meal,” Cassie’s mother announced. “Your cook seemed upset at having me in his kitchen, and I would hate to add further insult to him by ignoring the meal.”

  “I have something to see to as well,” Mrs. Jameston added. “I’m certain Cassie will keep you amply entertained.” She looked at Mark with a grin. She seemed to enjoy the discomfort that all this attention was causing Cassie.

  “I am certain she will.” Mark’s tone betrayed amusement.

  Once the women had left the room, Elida surprised Cassie by taking hold of Mark’s hand and dragging him toward one of the settees. “Cassie said you are going to teach her not to be afraid of horses. Can you teach me about horses too? I’ve always wanted to ride, but Cassie and Mama are too afraid of them. I’m not afraid, but I need someone to show me how. I’ll positively expire if I do not learn how to ride.” Her brown ringlets danced down her back as she whirled and plopped down on the seat.

  Mark sat beside her and replied seriously, “We cannot have that, Miss Elida. If your mother agrees, I will do what I can to see the task done.”

  “Can you come every day?” she asked with great enthusiasm.

  “Elida, Mr. Langford also has work to do. He is here, after all, on business.” Cassie took a seat in the chair nearest her sister.

  “I can easily divide my time,” Mark said. “Oh, I nearly forgot.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown paper–wrapped parcel. “This is for you. Happy birthday.”

  Cassie took the package and shook her head. “But you shouldn’t have.”

  “And why not? It is your birthday, and it seems perfectly appropriate to give a gift.”

  “Open it, Cassie. Let’s see what he got you,” Elida demanded.

  “It isn’t much, but it has special meaning to me,” Mark told her.

  Cassie unwrapped the paper and turned over a burgundy book. Embossed in gold letters were the words Poetry for the Ages. “It’s lovely.” She opened the volume and perused several pages before she looked up to meet Mark’s eyes. “Thank you so much. I know I’ll enjoy this.”

  “My wife gifted me with a copy years ago. I always enjoyed the poems there.”

  Cassie felt her heart sink. “You have a wife?” she blurted. How stupid she felt. She thought he had come here out of interest for her. But instead he was married. Her mind began to race.

  Mark frowned. “She died years ago. I thought I had mentioned her before. I’m sorry.”

  Cassie calmed and refocused her attention on the book. “I’m the one who is sorry. Might I ask how she died?”

  “Cholera,” Mark replied. “She was just twenty-five.”

  “That’s how old Cassie is today,” Elida said, jumping up. “And I’m going to be ten on May the second.” Cassie looked up to reprimand her sister, but she had no chance. The fact was, she was glad Elida had changed the subject.

  “You are? How very exciting,” Mark said, seeming to shake the sadness from his voice as he smiled at the child. “That’s a perfect age to learn about horses. By the time I was ten, I could ride nearly as well as my older brothers.”

  “Dinner is nearly ready,” Cassie’s mother announced.

  Mrs. Jameston was on her heels as they returned to the sitting room.

  “Look what Mr. Langford gave Cassie,” Elida said, pointing to the book of poetry.

  “How very kind. What a thoughtful gift,” Cassie’s mother commented.

  “Since we are giving gifts, I’d like to share my gift with Cassie,” Mrs. Jameston announced.

  “But you’ve already given me this gown and so much more,” Cassie protested.

  “Nevertheless, there is more. Come to the garden.”

  Mrs. Jameston led the way and didn’t wait for anyone else to respond. “Mr. Langford, you bring Cassie.”

  Elida danced down the hall after her mother and Mrs. Jameston, while Mark assisted Cassie to her feet and took the book from her hands. “We can leave this here for now. There’s no telling what Mrs. Jameston has in mind.”

  Cassie liked the way Mark took hold of her arm and tucked it against his side. But Cassie found herself longing to know more about his wife. Without thinking, she said, “Will you tell me more about your wife sometime?”

  He stopped and looked at her oddly. For a moment, Cassie thought that once again she’d made the mistake of speaking without thinking. To her surprise, however, Mark smiled.

  “I’d love to. Ruth was a wonderful woman.”

  Cassie nodded. “I’m sure she was. You must miss her very much.”

  “I do at times, but it’s been seven years, and I find that my heart has mended. I am surprised, I must admit, that you make such a request. Most women do not like to hear stories of other women—even wives dead and gone. It seems strange that you would want to know more.”

  It was hard to explain why she wanted to hear more. Cassie supposed it was because she longed to know Mark better. Still, she could hardly say that without having to explain herself.

  “I . . . well . . . I enjoy people,” Cassie began. At least that much was true. “I find stories about people to be fascinating. That’s why I love to read.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m a bit of a bore.”

  Mark laughed and pulled her along t
o the garden. “Not at all. You care about people and what is important to them. That makes you special. Not a bore at all.”

  Once they were in the garden, Mrs. Jameston motioned to Mark. “Cover Cassie’s eyes. I don’t want her to see her gift before the time is right.”

  Cassie looked at Mark, who raised a brow and gave her an impish grin. He dropped his hold and moved to stand behind her. He stood so close that the skirt of Cassie’s gown billowed forward a bit.

  “This could be great fun,” he murmured against her ear. “I feel like it’s my birthday.”

  Cassie trembled when he put his warm hand over her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to lean back against him, and for a moment she pretended to do just that. How wonderful it would be if she were married to Mark and had the right to let him hold her so intimately.

  “All right, Wills. You may bring the gift out,” Mrs. Jameston called.

  A gasp from her mother drew Cassie’s attention. “Oh dear,” her mother said, causing Cassie to stiffen.

  “There might be a problem,” Mark said as he put a hand on Cassie’s arm. He whispered against her ear, “Don’t be afraid.”

  “Whyever would there be a problem?” Mrs. Jameston questioned.

  “Because Cassie doesn’t—”

  “Hush, Elida!” their mother commanded.

  This was Cassie’s undoing. She was already trembling from Mark’s whispered breath on her skin. The nearness of him was overwhelming her. She pulled his hand down and found a dapple-gray horse standing not three feet away.

  She couldn’t halt the scream that escaped her mouth, causing the horse to start. The groomsman fought to keep the beast under control while Cassie turned quickly to bury her face against Mark’s shoulder.

  “Whatever is the matter?” asked Mrs. Jameston.

  “Cassie is afraid of horses,” Mrs. Stover told their hostess.

  Cassie hated the way her heart pounded in fear, but she found Mark’s hold soothing. He patted her back while whispering words of comfort.

  “You’re all right. The horse will not harm you. Look, she’s calmed now.”

  “Cassie witnessed her father’s death,” her mother began to explain to the confused Mrs. Jameston. “He was thrown from a horse and trampled to death. She’s been afraid of horses ever since.”

  “Oh, my dear. I am sorry,” Mrs. Jameston declared. “Wills, take the mare back to the stable. Cassie, I wish I had known. I feel so bad. I could not have chosen a worse gift.”

  “On the contrary, Mrs. Jameston,” Mark stated. “Miss Stover had already agreed to let me help her get over her fear. This will be perfect. I can come here and work with her, and eventually take her out riding. It is the perfect gift.”

  “And if Mama agrees, he’s going to teach me to ride too,” Elida announced.

  Cassie drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders as the groomsman led the animal away. She could see the worried expression on Mrs. Jameston’s face and knew she would have to put her fear aside.

  “Mr. Langford is right. I do plan to overcome my fear. Your gift is not only thoughtful and overly generous, but perfectly appropriate.” She went to Mrs. Jameston and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you so very much.”

  “It hardly seems like something you should thank me for.”

  “Miss Stover is right,” Mark offered. “It is very appropriate, and she’s quite a handsome mare. She’ll suit very well, I’m sure.”

  Mrs. Jameston still didn’t look convinced, but said nothing more. She moved quickly toward the house. “Why don’t we go back inside and have our dinner. Later, you may want to see the horse again. Perhaps with the animal in its pen, you will feel less fear.”

  “Perhaps,” Cassie said, forcing a smile. She glanced at Mark, who gave her a wink. “Perhaps the horse will also sprout wings and fly away.”

  Mark gave a hearty chuckle, causing everyone to turn and stare. Cassie merely shrugged her shoulders. “He’s a very happy fellow, is he not?”

  Mark couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a day as much as he had this day. Watching Cassie with her sister, he was touched by her patience and genuine affection for the child.

  “Your daughters seem quite fond of each other,” he told Mrs. Stover as they relaxed in the garden.

  “Oh goodness, but they are. Cassie has been a second mother to Elida. They love each other dearly. Don’t tell Cassie, but Elida cried almost every night for over a week when Cassie moved here to live with Mrs. Jameston.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of mentioning it,” Mark promised. Mrs. Jameston had taken leave of them to attend to her son’s demands, and Mark was quite glad for the time to speak privately with Cassie’s mother.

  “When I lost their father, the girls were all I had to keep me going. Sorrow nearly swallowed me whole.”

  Mark nodded. “When my wife died, I felt the same way. My friend Richard helped pull me through, but it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  “You must have been quite young.” Mrs. Stover offered him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, to my eyes, you seem young even now.”

  “I feel as if I’ve aged a decade of years past my thirty-two. I only recently lost my friend Richard as well. It has been most difficult to endure, but I find Cassie has been a pleasant diversion.” He smiled as she played tag with her sister.

  “Cassie is a dear girl,” her mother agreed. “I hope you will be kind to her. She’s never allowed herself to be courted.” Mrs. Stover looked hard at Mark. “She’s never allowed herself much fun at all. Not since her father’s death.”

  “I can well imagine. She seems to take responsibility very seriously.”

  “Yes—even responsibility that doesn’t belong to her.”

  “If it comforts you, I have only the best intentions. I would never purposely hurt her.” But even as he spoke, Mark felt a twinge of guilt. While he found Cassie fascinating, even special, he was also here because of Sebastian. He reminded himself that Mr. Jameston had to remain the focus of his attention.

  Mrs. Stover smiled. “I didn’t believe you would. But she is rather naïve about matters of the heart. I only ask you to treat her kindly and with great respect.”

  “I give you my word,” Mark declared.

  Cassie came to join them just then. Elida seemed to have endless energy, but Cassie made it clear that she was spent. “I have to catch my breath. You’ve worn me out.”

  Mrs. Stover laughed. “We must make our way home, Cassie. Mrs. Jameston has offered her carriage for us, and I told her we would be ready to leave by four.”

  “Oh, do we have to go?” Elida moaned. “I love it here. It’s so cheery. Not dark and gloomy like our house.”

  “Elida!” Cassie waggled her finger. “That is unkind. Our little house is quite nice.”

  “We don’t have a garden like this,” Elida muttered. “And the roof leaks.”

  “We’ll soon set the roof right, and perhaps if you were willing to do the work, you could have a very pleasant garden too,” Cassie chided. “Gardens are very time consuming. Wills spends a good deal of time out here trimming and planting. His wife, Miriam, helps as well. Later in the summer, Mrs. Jameston even hires a couple of other young men to come and help. It takes a great deal of effort to develop something like this.”

  “Come, Elida. We need to get home.” Her mother stood and smiled down at Cassie. “I left your birthday gift in your room. Mrs. Jameston took me there earlier.”

  “You shouldn’t have brought me a present. You made us lunch, after all.”

  “And a wonderful lunch it was,” Mark added, getting to his feet as well.

  Mrs. Stover smiled and pulled on her bonnet. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  Cassie kissed her mother good-bye. “I will see you at church tomorrow.”

  “Can’t I stay?” Elida begged.

  “Perhaps sometime you may,” Cassie replied, “but for now I think you should accompany Mother, or she might grow too lonely
.”

  Elida reluctantly sighed and nodded. “Good-bye, Cassie. It hasn’t been any fun at all without you at home. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, but everything will work out. You’ll see.” Cassie gave her sister a hug and then kissed the top of her head. “Come on, I’ll see you to the carriage.”

  “Nonsense,” her mother said, waving her off. “I know the way, and you have a guest to entertain. Please give Mrs. Jameston my regards.”

  “I’m sure she will be sorry to have missed your departure. Her son has taken up a great deal of her time of late.”

  Mrs. Stover nodded. “It is no bother to me. Just let her know what a wonderful time we had.”

  “I will.”

  Mark waited until they were gone before speaking. “Maybe we could visit your mare for a few moments. She really did seem gentle.”

  Cassie looked at him and rolled her eyes heavenward. “So do rabid dogs—until they decide to attack.”

  Mark laughed. “And how many rabid dogs have you encountered of late?”

  “Well . . . I suppose to be honest . . . none.”

  “And I have never dealt with one either, so I believe that to be a rather poor analogy.”

  “Perhaps, but you understood my position nevertheless.”

  He took hold of her arm. “Indeed I did. But, for the sake of pleasing Mrs. Jameston, why don’t we pretend that you adore her gift and have never wanted anything as much as you do that dapple gray.”

  “I’m good at pretending,” Cassie told him. “I just don’t know if I’m that good.”

  “Well, you’ll never know if you don’t at least give it a try.”

  By the time Cassie fell into bed that evening it was quite late. Her mother’s gift of a new handmade shawl lay neatly across the end of the bed, while Mark’s book of poetry was tucked beneath her pillow. She supposed it was silly, but she’d thought to put it there much like a piece of wedding cake—to encourage dreams of the one she might one day marry.

  Her fingers touched the binding as she closed her eyes. “I know I’m being silly,” she whispered into the night, but she left the book there nevertheless.