A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  Cassie looked at Mark with a sense of panic. “I can’t dance with you.”

  He laughed. “But why not? I dance fairly well. I promise not to step on your toes.”

  “But I cannot offer you the same pledge.” Cassie moved away from the dancing and music and made her way outside onto the lawn, where dozens of people strolled and talked.

  Mark was at her side immediately. He took hold of her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  Cassie twisted her gloved hands together. “I cannot dance.

  I’ve never learned.”

  “Is that all? I could easily teach you. No one will ever know.”

  She laughed nervously. “I doubt you could keep that secret for long. I’m not at all graceful. In fact, I’m rather clumsy at times. You would be completely aghast.”

  He shook his head. “I could never be aghast at anything you did. Come along, let me show you how easy it is.” He drew her to the side lawn, where there were no people.

  “Here?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Why not? I can show you some simple moves. Before you know it, we’ll be in perfect step together.” He tightened his hold on her arm and turned her to face him. “There’s really nothing to be afraid of.”

  “That’s what you said about horses.” She met his eyes and felt as though he were pleading with her to trust him.

  “You haven’t suffered from your time with Posie. In fact,” he drew her right hand in his as he positioned her left on his upper arm, “you’ve truly done well. I think the horse is quite fond of you.”

  “I suppose you’ll want me to dance with her next.”

  Mark chuckled. “Let’s see how you do with me first. Keep your arms fixed. Resistance is important so that you can feel the direction I’m taking you.”

  She felt his hand pressing on her back. “It seems you’re always taking me directions that I’d rather not go,” Cassie said as Mark pushed her backward. She stumbled slightly, but he held her fast.

  “The waltz is a wonderful dance. It allows the couple to remain close, face-to-face, so that they can talk all the while.”

  “I’ll do well to breathe and not step on your feet, much less talk,” Cassie declared, trying to look over her shoulder as Mark continued to move her backward.

  “Don’t worry about what’s behind you. That’s my job. Your job is to relax in my arms and enjoy yourself.”

  Cassie laughed nervously. “Sounds dangerous.”

  Mark winked. “It could be.” His voice was husky and bordering on seductive.

  She trembled from his nearness. This is just a game, she reminded herself. We’re just doing this in order to get information on Sebastian Jameston.

  “See there, you’re doing very well. Now as I turn you, lessen the tension in your arms. That’s the way,” he said as he maneuvered her. “You’re a natural. Soon you’ll be an accomplished horsewoman and dance partner.”

  “And then what will you teach me, Mr. Langford?” Cassie questioned, feeling rather breathless.

  He laughed and brought their dance to a stop. “I suppose we shall just have to wait and see, Miss Stover. But whatever it is, I am certain it will be pleasurable.”

  Cassie felt as if she were floating with the clouds. The evening with Mark and Mrs. Jameston had proven to be so much fun. She had learned to dance, and Mark had been so very gracious about her missteps. He seemed to enjoy himself, but Cassie knew it was all a game.

  “But for tonight,” she told herself as she brushed out her long hair, “I can pretend that it was all real. That the way he looked at me was more than just a game.” She looked in the mirror and saw the flush on her cheeks. Her eyes were bright with the joy she felt. No matter what happened in the future, she would always have this one very magical night.

  “Cassie?”

  She turned from where she sat and found Mrs. Jameston standing in the adjoining doorway. Offering the woman a smile, Cassie put her brush down and got to her feet.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  Mrs. Jameston smiled. “No. I just wanted to thank you for accompanying me tonight. You seemed to have a very good time, and that was as much a blessing to me as anything else.”

  “I did have a good time,” Cassie agreed. “I must say it turned out to be more fun than I had ever imagined.”

  “I would say your young man also had a good time. He seems quite smitten.”

  Her comment caused Cassie to sober. Mark had lavished her with attention, but that was all in keeping with their agreement.

  “Did you check on your son? Is he all right?” Cassie asked, quickly changing the subject.

  “I did, but he’s not here. Silas told me that Robbie took him out for the evening but an hour ago. He isn’t expected back very soon. I’m not at all certain that was such a good idea, but it’s out of my hands.” She grimaced and held her hand to her stomach. “I believe I’ll retire early. I’m still suffering from whatever malady has my stomach on edge.”

  “Would you like me to come and read to you?”

  “No. I think not. You might just as well enjoy some time to yourself. I pray you have the sweetest of dreams.” Mrs. Jameston turned to go and then called over her shoulder, “No doubt Mr. Langford will be having very pleasant dreams of you.”

  Cassie was glad that Mrs. Jameston couldn’t see her expression, for surely it was not very complimentary. She’d scrunched up her nose, as if smelling something rotten.

  Thinking of what Mrs. Jameston had said about her son, Cassie wondered if she might have time to do a little bit of snooping. Mark had asked her to try and get into Jameston’s room when he was absent and see if he’d left behind any papers or information that might help the case. Cassie didn’t like the idea of having anything to do with Jameston or his room, but if the man was out for the evening, it might work to at least attempt a bit of investigation.

  She tightened the ties on her robe, then lit a candle. Drawing a deep breath, Cassie headed for the hallway. There wasn’t a single sound in the house as she made her way toward Sebastian’s room.

  Pausing at the staircase, Cassie glanced down to the first floor. Seeing no one there, she hurried past and made her way to Jameston’s bedroom. The last time she’d been in his room . . . Cassie knocked lightly on the door, deciding that if anyone called back, she’d merely make a run for the servants’ stairs.

  She shuddered as she remembered his hands on her.

  But no one called to her and so she gingerly turned the knob on the door.

  The silence seemed overwhelming as she peered into the darkness of the room. She held the candle high and watched as it cast eerie shadows on the walls. Stepping inside, Cassie nearly jumped out of her skin at her own reflection in the window. The drapes hadn’t been pulled and the glass seemed to create a perfect mirrored image of her frightened face.

  She pulled the drapes quickly, fearing that someone might already have seen the light from the street below.

  “I’m not very good at this,” she whispered. As soon as the windows were covered, Cassie turned her attention to the nightstand beside the bed. A pair of scissors, some bandages, and a bottle of ointment stood as reminders of Jameston’s wounded leg. Otherwise, there was nothing worthy of her attention.

  The small round table near the end of the bed drew her attention. There were several pieces of paper on it, and Cassie hurried to view them. One looked to be an invoice for a new suit. A rather expensive new suit, Cassie noted. Another piece of paper appeared to be hastily written notes, but they made no sense.

  “Baltimore—six weeks. See Davis about the pier.” There were several other scribbled comments, which Cassie quickly committed to memory.

  She had just turned to investigate a large trunk that stood beside the door when she heard the unmistakable sound of men talking. Blowing out the candle, she hurried into the hallway and tried to figure out which way she should go.

  “It doesn’t seem to me,” Robbie was saying, “that the me
n would need all that much time to learn the job.”

  “If they are smart men—eager men—then no,” Sebastian agreed.

  Cassie realized they were coming up the main staircase. She could see the golden glow of their lamp as they drew near. She hurried to the servants’ stairs and hid in the passageway. The conversation between Jameston and McLaughlin might well be important to Mark, and she didn’t want to risk leaving too soon.

  “I’ve seen too many men who were quick to volunteer for good pay but were unable to satisfy my desired level of performance. I need men who are unafraid of the law and what might happen if they’re caught. I also need men who can keep their mouths shut.”

  “I think you’ll find these men are trustworthy,” Robbie replied.

  Cassie clung to the stair rail and tried to slow her panting breath. She prayed the men wouldn’t hear her on the stairs; otherwise she would have to face them and make up some sort of story as to why she’d come this way.

  “Do you smell smoke?” Sebastian asked.

  The candle felt like a dead weight in Cassie’s hand. How could she have been so stupid as to have blown it out in Jameston’s room?

  “The lamp is smoking, that’s all,” Robbie assured.

  Cassie didn’t even feel she could draw a breath until she heard the bedroom door close behind the men. Their conversation, now muffled, continued as if nothing were amiss.

  She tiptoed past the room and hurried as fast as she could down the hall until she was safely inside the walls of her own room. Breathing heavily, Cassie leaned back against the bedroom door.

  “I am about as good at this as I am in dealing with horses,” she said, shaking her head. “And about as brave.”

  CHAPTER 13

  A crash of thunder caused Cassie to sit straight up in bed. She held a light coverlet to her neck and waited for yet another flash of lightning. It wasn’t but a few seconds before it appeared again, and the thunder followed suit.

  B-O-O-M!

  The windows rattled ominously, leaving Cassie completely shaken. She eased back against the pillow and tried to slow her rapidly beating heart, but it was no use. The storm outside, however, was minor compared to the one raging deep within. During every waking moment of her life these days her mind and heart were centered on one thing—one man. For more than three weeks, she had been pretending to be completely enamored with Mark Langford. There was only one problem: She knew without a doubt that she was no longer merely role-playing.

  “What am I to do?” she asked the emptiness of her room.

  Throwing back her cover and tossing the pillow aside, Cassie got out of bed without even bothering to put on her slippers. She walked to the window and stared out for several minutes as rivulets of water streamed down the glass.

  “O God, what am I to do? Is this punishment for pretending to be in love?” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I care so much about him. I’ve never known these feelings before, and now they’re supposed to be nothing more than a game. A game to catch a criminal.”

  She hugged her arms to her body. The lightweight lawn gown was more luxurious than anything Cassie had ever worn for sleeping. It was just one more reminder of Mrs. Jameston’s generosity.

  “She’s been so good to me, Lord. Am I doing the wrong thing by trying to see her son put in jail?”

  Even though she’d asked the question, Cassie knew the answer. She was doing the right thing. Sebastian Jameston had become increasingly ugly with his mother. He’d made it quite clear that he wasn’t in a hurry to leave her home. He shamed her daily as he heaped one comment upon another, trying to make her feel guilty about the way she had failed him. It was taking its toll on Mrs. Jameston’s health, and frankly, Cassie had begun to worry.

  “He can’t be put behind bars soon enough,” she muttered.

  Cassie left the window and sat back down on the edge of her bed. Mrs. Jameston’s health seemed to be failing a little more every day. She’d grown quite weak, not even desiring her afternoon carriage ride or stroll in the garden. No one seemed to know what to do. Even Ada was concerned.

  “Lord, please show me what I can do to help Mrs. Jameston. I hate to see her—”

  The sound of another crash came to Cassie’s ears, but it wasn’t from the thundering storm. Jumping to her feet, she ran for the door that adjoined her room to Mrs. Jameston’s. Opening it only a crack, Cassie called out, “Mrs. Jameston? Are you all right?”

  There was no response.

  Cassie opened the door fully and entered the room. “Mrs. Jameston?” She looked at the bed, but the older woman was not there.

  As Cassie drew closer, it was clear why the bed was empty. Mrs. Jameston was on the floor. Unconscious.

  With a presence of mind that Cassie hadn’t thought possible, she rang for the servants, then hurried back to Mrs. Jameston’s side. She couldn’t see well enough to tell whether the woman was injured and quickly went to light Mrs. Jameston’s bedside lamp.

  Cassie brought the lamp to where Mrs. Jameston had fallen. Relief coursed through Cassie when she didn’t find any blood or obvious wound. Mrs. Jameston’s fragile form was so completely still, however, that Cassie knew things were not right.

  Kneeling, Cassie felt the woman’s forehead and called to her once again. “Please wake up, Mrs. Jameston. It’s Cassie. I’m here to help you.”

  She didn’t so much as stir and Cassie shuddered. What if she were dead? Cassie quickly bent her head to the woman’s chest and listened for a heartbeat. A very faint thud-thud could be heard, but it did little to ease Cassie’s worries. The beat was slow and very weak.

  A knock sounded on the outer door. “Come in!” She knew the urgency in her voice would send someone to her aid.

  “Miss Stover?” It was Brumley. He appeared disheveled and confused.

  “Mrs. Jameston has fallen, and she’s unconscious. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but please help me get her back into bed.”

  The man came quickly to her side. He was clothed in a dark blue robe, but his nightshirt was clearly evident beneath.

  Cassie realized she hadn’t even bothered to don a robe and immediately became self-conscious. She hurried to put the lamp on the nightstand and then went back to help Brumley as he scooped up his employer and placed her on the bed.

  “We need a doctor,” she told the man. “Can you send someone immediately?”

  “I will see to it, miss.” He exited the room more rapidly than Cassie had ever seen him move.

  In his absence, Cassie went quickly back to her room and retrieved her dressing gown and slippers. She had just returned to Mrs. Jameston’s bed and was securing the ties to her robe when Mrs. Dixon showed up. With her mobcap askew, she came to Cassie’s side.

  “What has happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I heard a crash and came to investigate. I found Mrs. Jameston on the floor.” Mrs. Dixon gasped. “Brumley helped me get her back into bed and then went to send someone for the doctor.”

  “I’ll get more light in here,” Mrs. Dixon offered. “Poor dear. I knew she wasn’t well. She didn’t eat a thing for supper. Said her stomach pained her too much.”

  “I know,” Cassie said, unable to keep the worry from her voice.

  “Miss, I’ve sent Wills for the doctor. It shouldn’t be long now,” Brumley said as he returned. “What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassie admitted. She sat down beside Mrs. Jameston and took hold of her hand. “I feel completely useless. I am living here so that I can help her, and I have no idea how to make this right.”

  “You found her, miss,” Brumley said in a sympathetic manner. “You have done exactly what needed to be done.”

  Cassie met his gaze and saw the support in his expression. “Thank you, Brumley.” She drew Mrs. Jameston’s hand to her breast. “I just wish we could do more.”

  It was another twenty minutes before the doctor showed up with an anxious Wills following
close behind. The doctor entered the room with authority, and just seeing his familiar face gave Cassie a feeling of hope. This man was Mrs. Jameston’s regular physician. He knew her better than anyone—at least in regard to her physical health. Surely he would know what was wrong.

  “Dr. Riley, I found her unconscious on the floor,” she told him as she got up off the bed.

  “She hasn’t been feeling well for several weeks,” Mrs. Dixon offered as she placed two lamps on the nearby dresser. “We tried to get her to come see you, but she thought it nothing more than a summer complaint.”

  “What were her symptoms prior to the fall?” he asked as he took out some of his instruments from a well-worn bag.

  “She complained of pain in her head earlier in the day, and her stomach has bothered her for some time,” Cassie told him.

  Mrs. Dixon nodded, wringing her hands. “Yes, and she’s also been tired. She takes more naps now.”

  Dr. Riley immediately began to examine her, and as he did, Mrs. Jameston moaned softly and began to regain consciousness. She looked rather startled at the gathering, then turned her attention to the doctor.

  “Goodness . . . what . . . whatever has happened?”

  “You might well tell me that, Mrs. Jameston,” the doctor replied. He listened to her heart and breathing, then straightened to examine her eyes. “Do you remember falling?”

  She considered the question for a moment as the storm once again rattled the windows. “I remember the thunder. I got up to make certain my window was closed, as I feared the rain would ruin my draperies. I just felt so weak. I don’t know anything else.”

  “Your heartbeat is very weak. I believe you may have damaged your heart.”

  Mrs. Jameston shook her head very slowly. “I am an old woman. Such things shouldn’t surprise either one of us. I think this is much ado about nothing.”

  Cassie came around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge. Reaching out, she took hold of the woman’s hand. “Mrs. Jameston, you gave me quite a start. I hope you will listen to the doctor and do as he says. You hired me to be your companion and help take care of you, but I cannot do that if you will not cooperate.”