A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  Mark, however, seemed to have his own ideas. “I am worried about you and Mrs. Jameston. I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I wonder if it might be possible to hire an additional man or two to work at the house in order to act as guards.”

  Cassie met Mark’s gaze and forgot what she was going to say. “An additional man or two?”

  “Yes. I know I heard Mrs. Jameston mention at one time that she often hired additional workers for the summer. I would like very much to send a couple of trustworthy men to you. You could let Mrs. Jameston know that I vouched for them and that they needed the work. Do you think that would be acceptable to her?”

  “I suppose it might, but she only hires help for outdoors during the summer. From what I’ve been told, they don’t usually live at the house, but rather come to work each day from their own homes.” Just then, she remembered that Mrs. Jameston wanted to improve the garden. Cassie felt flushed at the reminder of Mrs. Jameston’s suggestion for an outdoor wedding.

  “Well, perhaps you could convince her to hire them to actually live on the estate. The men I have in mind will be very capable and will treat both her and you with the utmost respect.”

  The carriage slowed, and Cassie could see the station come into view. A feeling of desperation poured over her. “Mark, I wanted to talk to you.”

  “We’re here already,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I suppose our conversation will have to wait for another time. My mother’s party is tonight. I will hopefully catch a late train back tomorrow. That should still allow me to be with you on the Fourth of July.”

  Wills stopped the carriage, and Mark immediately got out. Cassie surprised him by exiting as well. He barely realized she’d followed him in time to offer her assistance.

  “You needn’t see me to the train.”

  “But I want to,” she said softly. Wills handed Mark his valise. “Would you wait for me here, Wills? I will be right back.”

  “Of course, Miss Stover.” Wills climbed back up onto the driver’s seat and smiled down at her.

  Mark shrugged and offered his arm. “I feel privileged to have your attention. Even if it is for just a few minutes. The train will leave shortly, you know.”

  “I do know, but I felt it important to come with you. Mark, I need you to know something. It’s troubled me now for a while.”

  He looked at her oddly. “Go on.”

  They moved among the other travelers to the depot platform. The warmth of the day was already making Cassie warm in her stylish plum-colored suit. She felt tongue-tied at the prospect of confessing her love for Mark.

  “It’s about our arrangement.” She swallowed hard.

  “Miss Stover, is it not?” a woman called out. She swarmed around Cassie and Mark with a brood of children and offered a smile. “My, but in that beautiful gown, I scarcely recognized you.”

  Cassie recognized Mrs. Blanchard and at least half a dozen of her children. “Mrs. Blanchard, how very nice to see you again.”

  “Are you traveling today?”

  Cassie shook her head. “No. I escorted Mr. Langford. He is traveling to New York.”

  “Oh, how nice. We are meeting Mr. Blanchard. His train is overdue, however.” She looked to Mark as if for an explanation or introduction.

  “Mrs. Blanchard, this is Mr. Langford. His family is in the hotel business in Boston.”

  “How very nice to meet you, Mr. Langford.”

  “All aboard!” the conductor called.

  “That’s my train,” Mark declared. “I suppose we will have to continue our conversation another time.” He tipped his hat at the ladies. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Blanchard.”

  “And you,” she said with a smiling nod.

  Cassie met Mark’s eyes and watched as he turned to head to the train. She couldn’t let him go without explaining her heart. “Excuse me, Mrs. Blanchard. I forgot to tell Mr. Langford something important.”

  She pressed through the crowd, momentarily losing sight of Mark. Just as she was about to give up, she saw him on the steps of the train.

  The whistle blew as the train jerked forward the tiniest bit. Cassie pushed her way past the last of the onlookers and called out, “Mark!”

  He looked down and shook his head. “What’s wrong?”

  The train began to inch forward as the train whistle sounded again.

  “I’m not pretending anymore,” she called. She saw the confusion on his face.

  “What?”

  “I’m not pretending about how I feel. I’ve come to care for you.” She had to walk down the platform to keep pace with Mark’s car. “In fact,” she added, “I love you.”

  She came to the end of the platform as the train pulled away. Mark’s expression was one of surprise. He said nothing as the car moved away from the station. He was nearly gone from her view when a smile crossed his face. He waved, but he was too far away for her to hear the words he called back, since the train engineer chose that moment to blast the whistle one last time.

  Cassie didn’t know what to think. Had she offended him?

  Had he smiled at the silly notion of Cassie actually loving him? Or could she dare to dream he shared her affection? She watched the train disappear from view and sighed. She would find out what he thought the day after tomorrow. There was little else to do about the matter but wait. Wait and wonder if her boldness had driven away the only man she truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

  Mark felt exhilarated as the train made its way toward New York. The hours passed by in joyous contemplation for him.

  Cassie’s words had warmed his heart and given him hope for his future. She loved him. She loved him, and he loved her.

  How he wished they’d had time to discuss their feelings more thoroughly.

  Despite the heat and noise of the car, the rocking of the train was making Mark drowsy. Given that he was in a car for men only, he took off his coat, as most of the men had done, and loosened his tie. He checked the timetable one more time, then tucked it along with his ticket and wallet into the coat pocket. There were still another four hours or so before he’d reach New York. He began to think of what he would do and say when he returned to Cassie. She needed to know that he felt the same way, and he knew she hadn’t heard his declaration from the train steps.

  He smiled and thought of how pleased his mother would be. Telling her that he planned to marry Cassandra Stover would be the best possible birthday present he could offer her.

  The train suddenly lurched to the right and then to the left. Mark’s eyes flew open as he looked outside to see what had happened. The entire world seemed to be rushing up to meet him, however, as the car turned sidewise and flew off the tracks.

  Men cried out as they were hurled through the air. Mark tried to hold on to his seat for support, but the momentum of the train derailing was too much for him. Without warning, he felt himself thrown against the seat in front of him—hitting his head hard against the metal bracing. After that, his world went black.

  CHAPTER 19

  Cassie looked at the clock on the mantel and realized that yet another day was half gone without word from Mark. He’d been gone for nearly three weeks now. Three weeks and not a single word.

  A million thoughts ran through her mind, and none of them were good. Mark had said he’d only be gone until the third of July, yet here it was the twentieth. Had her declaration scared him off? Had he been so baffled by her actions that he’d abandoned the investigation—perhaps given it over to someone else? Cassie opened and closed her book several times before heaving a sigh.

  “I suppose your moping around has something to do with Mr. Langford’s absence,” Sebastian Jameston said as he stood in the doorway of the sitting room, watching her intently.

  “I’m hardly moping,” Cassie countered. She picked up her book and headed to the door. The last thing she wanted was an encounter with Sebastian. “Good day, Mr. Jameston.” She tried to pass, but he put out his arm and
held her back.

  “I have only just arrived home. Surely you can spare a short time of conversation with me.”

  She looked into his icy blue eyes. “I’m sorry, but I need to go check on your mother.”

  He smiled. “Mother will wait. I’m glad Mr. Langford is gone. It gives us a chance to get to know each other better, and this would be a perfect opportunity.”

  “I have no desire to know you better, Mr. Jameston.”

  “I suppose I have been a bit overbearing at times,” he said, stepping back. “But you must understand, most of the women I’ve known appreciate having the man take the lead. I suppose you are among those women seeking to be free of such things—even vote in public affairs and elections.”

  “I have no such affiliation,” Cassie replied, “but I do not like to be handled or forced into any situation. I also have very little respect for someone who shows no concern for the feelings of others. Especially his own mother.”

  She hadn’t known how Jameston would react to such a bold statement, but she was surprised when he merely crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back against the wall. “It is easy for you to suppose you know the situation, but you were not here for my upbringing. My mother mourned the death of my brothers as if she had no other child.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Cassie said, meeting his gaze.

  “Believe it or not, but the truth is what it is.”

  “Even if she made mistakes,” Cassie said, remembering Mrs. Jameston’s confessions, “that’s hardly any reason to believe she didn’t care for you.”

  He seemed to consider her words for a moment. “Do you see her treating me with a regard that would suggest she cares?”

  “She allows you to live here. She gives you practically anything you ask for.”

  “And that proves love to you?” He gave a shake of his head. “Tsk, tsk, Miss Stover. I would have thought you, the devoted Christian, would suggest otherwise. After all, isn’t God supposed to be love? I have yet to have Him offer me a sum of money.”

  “God is love, Mr. Jameston. But I do not believe you to be familiar enough with that to understand it.”

  “Then why not explain it?” he challenged.

  “You wish only to engage me in an argument. I do not suppose that your mother was a perfect woman. The pain she must have endured upon losing her children most likely did affect the manner in which she dealt with you. For that I am sorry, and you have my sympathy.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “I do not want your sympathy, Miss Stover.”

  “No, you want her consumed by guilt. That serves you better. You speak of God being love, yet you know nothing of forgiveness or compassion. If your mother made mistakes in your upbringing, if she failed to give you the attention you felt you deserved, then why not forgive her and strike out to have an honest relationship with her now?”

  “I would not give her the satisfaction,” he replied. “It would serve no purpose.” The mocking sarcasm in his tone was clear.

  “It would offer her comfort. She spoke of your being that for her when you were younger.”

  “Well, it was certainly no comfort for me. But that is unimportant right now. I certainly have no desire to discuss my mother when there are other issues at hand. I’ve never meant to offend you. I’m simply used to having to go after what I want—to fight for it, if you will. You are a beautiful woman living right under my roof. It’s only natural that I would be attracted to you.”

  “Well, do not feel the need to fight for me, and do not be attracted to me. I love Mr. Langford and have no interest in any other relationship. You would be wasting your time to try and convince me otherwise.”

  “But I can be most persuasive,” he said. “And Mr. Langford is hardly here to defend his place.”

  The grin on his face seemed to mask something far more sinister, and Cassie couldn’t help but shiver. She could only pray that he would tire of this game and leave her be. Her salvation, however, came when someone knocked on the front door. Cassie prayed it might be Mark and hurried to answer it before Brumley could even appear.

  To her surprise her mother and sister stood outside.

  “Mother! Elida! How very nice to see you both. Come in.”

  She turned to find Sebastian had already gone.

  “We wanted to inquire as to how Mrs. Jameston was feeling. And of course to see you,” Cassie’s mother said, smiling.

  “I want to see Posie,” Elida declared. “May I please?”

  “Of course. Wills is in the stable. Just run out and ask him to help you,” Cassie replied. She hugged her mother. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Her mother looked at her oddly. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Cassie said with a sigh. “I was just a bit—well . . .” She looked at her mother, then lowered her voice as Brumley appeared and then quickly went about his business. “I’ve heard nothing from Mark. I don’t know where he is or even if he’s all right.”

  “I have been praying. Ever since you told me of your declaration to him. Do you know where his family lives in Boston? Might you send them a letter? Surely they haven’t been in New York all this time.”

  “I don’t know an address. I know of his boardinghouse here in Philadelphia; I had thought to go there and inquire.”

  Her mother nodded. “Perhaps that would afford you some comfort, if not information. The housekeeper might know an address in Boston.”

  “I know he works for”—Cassie lowered her voice before continuing—“an insurance company. I think I know the name and had considered writing to them, but I hardly know if that would be fitting. I mean, what if Mark simply wants nothing more to do with me? What if my declaration was not to his liking?”

  “He hardly seemed like the kind of man who would act in such a manner,” her mother said in an equally lowered voice. “Besides, even if he doesn’t return your feelings, he would definitely want to see the investigation through to completion.

  He has a purpose here besides your courtship.”

  “You are right, of course. I know he wouldn’t just give up on investigating his friend’s death, which makes me worry even more that something has happened to him. Something very bad.”

  “Now open the other eye,” the doctor told Mark. He held up a candle and moved it back and forth in front of Mark’s face. “Follow the movement with your eyes only.”

  Doing as he was told, Mark completed the exam and waited for the doctor to raise the heavy green window shade that had been lowered to darken the room.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “The good news is that you have fully recovered from your concussion, and I see no lingering effects. The lacerations you suffered have healed nicely, and your headaches are of a less severe nature than they were even days ago. I would say you’re nearly whole again.”

  “Then why can I not remember anything, Dr. Shoemaker?

  Why can I not remember my own name?”

  The man offered Mark a sympathetic shake of his head.

  “I know this is difficult for you, Mr. Smith. No one wishes to be without their identity. But you might have been killed in that train derailment. Others died, and you were fortunate to live.”

  “It’s hardly fortunate if I have no idea who I am or where I am supposed to be.”

  “But you said that images were coming back to you. What of the young woman you keep dreaming about? Could she be the one you were calling for when you were brought to us?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” He put his hands to his head. “Will I ever be able to remember?”

  The doctor moved to his desk and sat down. He was a kind man who had taken Mark in after the train accident. So many people had been injured that Mark felt fortunate to have the doctor’s continued care.

  “I believe you will regain your memory, Mr. Smith.” The doctor and his wife had chosen the surname to call Mark, but it always sounded hollow to him.

  “But how long will it
take?” Mark questioned. “I cannot go on indefinitely accepting your hospitality. I have a debt to pay you and no idea of how to do so.”

  “I am hardly worried,” the man said. “God brought you to us to care for, and we will see to the task until it is complete. We have plenty of room.”

  Mark shook his head. “I feel hopeless.”

  “Son, there is no hope only where there is no God. You cannot allow the devil to get the best of you. Why don’t you spend some time in prayer and the Bible? It will comfort you.”

  “But is there nothing else we can do to help my memory return?”

  Dr. Shoemaker took up a book and considered it for a moment. “I have read all that I could on your condition. This book offers as much authority on abrupt memory loss as is available to me, but in all of my searching, I come to the same conclusions. Most situations of amnesia are reversed in time. The swelling of the brain takes time to reduce and as the brain heals, your memory should return.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” Mark asked bitterly. “Then what?”

  “I cannot say. I suppose we shall have to simply take it one day at a time, and see to that matter when there is no other choice. You must maintain your faith.”

  “But I don’t know that I had any to begin with,” Mark said, getting to his feet. “I find the Bible comforting and familiar. I find myself feeling quite at ease with the things you have shared with me. But still, I cannot say I have a faith to fall back on. I cannot say that I was a man who put his trust in God.”

  “I feel confident that you were.” Dr. Shoemaker put the book down and leaned forward. “Mr. Smith, you have endured a tremendous ordeal. You have suffered injury and overcome great obstacles. If you were not already a man of God prior to this event, I believe that you are one now. Surely no one can face such a brush with death and not desire to know what lies on the other side.”

  Mark nodded. “I know that much. I feel certain that things you’ve shared with me are nothing new. Even as I read the Bible, I find passages familiar. Bits and pieces of stories that come back to me.”