A Lady of Secret Devotion (27 page)

Cassie stirred the boiling oats and hummed to herself. It hadn’t been easy to get Silas to allow her to fix the concoction in his kitchen, but she had finally won out. She wanted to prepare a special treat to share with Mrs. Jameston for lunch.

The woman had been feeling poorly again and thought oatmeal might settle her stomach. Cassie wasn’t at all sure it would, but she hoped that she might make an appealing surprise with cinnamon and sugar, knowing that the older woman had a sweet tooth. Meanwhile, Silas was in the pantry taking inventory and sulking.

Unable to find the cinnamon, Cassie wondered if she dared to ask Silas. He was a sweet old man, but he was highly possessive of his role in the Jameston kitchen.

“Silas?” she called as she made her way to the back pantry.

He pretended not to hear her, or so Cassie surmised, as he studied a list in his hands. He made an unintelligible grunt as he wrote something down.

“Silas?”

He turned and raised a bushy white eyebrow. “Yes.”

Cassie smiled. “I wondered if you might show me where the cinnamon is. I want to add it to the oats while they’re boiling.”

He gave her a disapproving look. “Very well. I’ll show you.”

He walked from the pantry into the kitchen with Cassie close on his heels. She was so close in fact that when Silas stopped short, she nearly ran into his back.

“See, this is exactly what I feared would happen. You let one person come into your kitchen and then everyone thinks they have to join in.”

Cassie peered around to find Sebastian Jameston stirring the oats. “Now, now, Silas, you know you don’t mind my being in here. Besides, the oats were boiling over,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t want you to have a mess on your hands.”

His demeanor suggested something else, however. He gave Cassie a leering smile before dropping his hold on the spoon. “I suppose you are making this for my mother? I heard her say something about oatmeal for lunch. Seems like a rather strange request.”

“Not when you’re sick,” Cassie countered.

Silas brought her some ground cinnamon. “If you want more than this, you’ll have to grind your own.”

“Thank you, Silas. I know it will mean so much to Mrs. Jameston.”

He muttered something and stomped off to the pantry, but Cassie could see in his expression that he wasn’t really all that mad anymore.

She went to the pot of oats and started to sprinkle the cinnamon into the mixture. Spying something at the edge of the pan that looked like a white powder, she nearly said something but held back. For some time now, she’d worried that Sebastian was doing something to cause his mother’s illness.

A shiver went over her. Had Sebastian poisoned the oats? She had to remain calm. She forced her hand to steady and prayed that God would give her the strength to pretend just a little longer. Cassie couldn’t allow Jameston to suspect that she thought him planning his mother’s murder.

Stirring the cereal, Cassie wondered what he’d put into the mixture. She put the cinnamon aside and dropped the spoon back on its holder. Sebastian watched her with great intensity.

She could feel his gaze on her even before she turned to find him watching her.

“What do you want, Sebastian?”

“I want what I’ve always wanted: you. I’m trying to figure out how much longer you intend to play this game with me.”

Cassie felt the wind go out from her. Did he know what she was up to? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m speaking of us. Of living day in and day out, under the same roof. I’m speaking of Langford being gone now for a month. I believe he has deserted you. At least I hope that’s the case, for, Cassie, I still desire to see us together.”

“I used to desire to be a princess,” Cassie said rather flatly. “But alas, there are few royal family members living in Philadelphia.”

He laughed. “I will treat you like a queen.”

“And how will you do that? You have to beg your mother for money,” Cassie said, a plan forming in her mind. Jameston was always talking about how he would be lord of the manor once his mother was dead. No doubt he was seeking to hurry that matter along.

As if reading her mind, he sneered. “I won’t have to beg anyone for anything after she dies.”

“And how do you figure that, Mr. Jameston?”

“I don’t understand.” He seemed genuinely puzzled.

Cassie rolled her eyes and moved to retrieve the sugar. “I fail to understand how you will benefit from her death, now that she has changed her will.”

She didn’t dare look at Jameston for fear he would recognize her trepidation. Mrs. Jameston had decided to make changes in her will, but she hadn’t told Cassie what those changes amounted to. Cassie personally hoped that the older woman had disinherited her horrible son, but she had no proof of that. Still, if Jameston thought he’d been stripped of his future fortune, perhaps he’d stop trying to kill his mother long enough for Cassie to ensure her safety.

For several minutes the kitchen held a deadly silence. Cassie knew she would have to face Jameston. She drew a deep breath and turned to find him standing not a foot away.

“What did you say?” he questioned through clenched teeth.

Cassie clutched the sugar bowl even more tightly to keep Jameston from seeing that her hands were shaking. She could see the rage in his blue eyes. What was normally a handsome face had now contorted into something that looked rather demonic.

“I said,” Cassie began, trying hard to breathe evenly, “that you won’t benefit from your mother’s death, as she has changed her will.”

Sebastian remained calm. He backed away with closed fists at his sides and paced the length of the kitchen. “Are you certain of this? She’s said nothing to me. Surely if she were that angry with me, she would have threatened me or told me.”

“And why should she? You’ve done nothing but threaten her and treat her abominably since you arrived here with your leg injury. You even implied that you would burn the house down around us. Why should any mother tolerate such things, much less reward them?”

Jameston stopped and looked at her hard. “This is your doing. You caused this.”

“I had nothing to do with it. I did accompany her to the lawyer’s office, but I didn’t even meet Mr. Daniels.” She hoped the name reference would add credence to her story.

Apparently it did the trick, because Sebastian paled and began to pace again. Cassie decided enough time had been spent in explanation. She went to the stove with the sugar and poured a small amount into the mixture. There was no possibility that this would be served to anyone, save perhaps rats in the cellar, but she had to make it appear that all was well.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asked, coming to the stove.

“I’m finishing the preparations for the oatmeal I promised your mother.” She put aside the sugar bowl and went to the cupboard for a bowl. “Now I plan to dish it up and take some to her.”

Sebastian seemed to panic. Cassie paid no attention. She hoped that he was notably upset and concerned about what would happen next. He’d already caused so much trouble, and if Cassie was right and he’d been poisoning his mother all along, she couldn’t imagine what lengths he might go to in order to finish the job. However, if she’d convinced him about the will, he couldn’t possibly want to carry on. At least not until he assured himself that Cassie was wrong or that the will was changed back to his favor.

“I’ll carry it to the table for you,” he announced, eyeing the pot on the stove.

Cassie wondered what he planned to do, but it was only another moment before she knew, as he pretended to trip and sent the pot and all of the oatmeal flying across the floor.

“Oh, look what you’ve done. Now I shall have to make another batch,” Cassie said, pretending to be upset.

“I suppose you will,” he said, straightening. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment in town.”

“But what of the mess you’ve made?” Cassie questioned, not at all sorry to see him go.

“Get one of the servants to see to it.” He hurried from the kitchen and disappeared.

Cassie met Silas’s disapproving glare as he came to see what had caused the commotion. She shrugged.

“Silas, it seems I’ve made a bit of a mess.”

As soon as the oatmeal was cleaned up, Cassie knew that she would have to tell Mrs. Jameston the truth about everything. It would break the woman’s heart to know her own child had been responsible for her months of illness. Of course, Cassie couldn’t know for sure that all of her sickness had come at the hands of Sebastian, but it seemed awfully coincidental that she hadn’t really taken a turn for the worse until after he’d appeared in the house.

She couldn’t imagine what went through the mind of someone like Sebastian Jameston. How could he want to end the life of the woman who’d given life to him? Mrs. Jameston had done nothing but indulge her son, and he hated her for it. How ironic.

The thought of Jameston returning to somehow force a confrontation between him and his mother caused Cassie to feel a sense of panic. What if he returned with a gun and forced his mother to accompany him to the lawyer’s office?

Oh, Mark, where are you? Why are you not here?
Cassie fought back the urge to cry as she made her way up the grand staircase. They were in such danger now. Cassie could feel it. Once Sebastian found out the truth, one way or another, she and Mrs. Jameston would be in for more trouble.

“We need to get out of here,” she told herself as she paused at the top of the stairs. “We must leave. But where should we go?”

She looked down the long hall and considered her dilemma.

No matter where she took Mrs. Jameston, once they left, it would leave no doubt in Sebastian’s mind that she perceived him as a grave threat.

“O Father, help me. Help me to know what to do.”

A thought came to mind. She didn’t know if it would work or even be safe, but Jameston didn’t know where her family lived. He could probably find out eventually, but it would take a little time. She could take Mrs. Jameston to her mother’s house. From there, she and her mother could figure something else out. Once the old woman knew the details of what was happening, perhaps she could even advise Cassie as to where they might go for safety.

She looked back at the door to her employer’s bedchambers and sighed. There was no time to waste and no easy way to deliver such bad news.

CHAPTER 22

M
rs. Jameston sat in a chair before the fireplace and listened as Cassie explained the details of what had transpired.

“I feel quite certain that this is the reason you have been sick,” Cassie told her. “I hate to be the one to bear such unimaginable news, but your son’s actions seem to affirm my suspicions.”

The older woman had tears in her eyes as she nodded. “I’ve no doubt it is true. I have wondered as much myself. Sebastian has come several times with tea for me, as well as sliced fruit, which he knows I love.” She drew a ragged breath and faced Cassie. “I wish I had died rather than come to the place in life where my own child was trying to kill me.”

Cassie reached out and took hold of her hand. “It is a terrible thing, but I will see you safe. I will not allow him to hurt you any longer.”

“He wasn’t always like this,” she said, gazing into the empty hearth. “I should have given more of myself to him. It is because of my misery and pain that he is this way. I tried to make it up to him, but I did a poor job of it. I’m afraid I gave of my possessions but not of my heart. Now it is too late . . . and the damage is done.”

“The damage might well be done, but healing is always possible as long as we draw breath. We make our own choices as we grow up. Even if you had neglected him, and later overindulged him, Sebastian knew right from wrong. Which brings me, sadly, to another aspect of this situation.”

Mrs. Jameston cocked her head to one side. “There is more?”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t know quite how to explain, but you must know the truth. Mark is an investigator for an insurance company that Sebastian has been defrauding. Mark’s dear friend Richard was investigating the matter first, but unfortunately your son . . . he . . .” Cassie dropped her hold on Mrs.

Jameston and looked away. “Mark believes that Sebastian killed Richard.”

“Oh no.” Mrs. Jameston shook her head. “Oh, this is terrible news. I cannot even begin to bear the thought.” She put her hand to her chest, and Cassie feared the worst. “To ply his hatred against me is one thing, but to wrong others . . . oh . . .

I can scarcely bear it.”

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you. But there is a reason for my declaration.” She patted the woman’s arm. “Are you in pain?”

“My heart is broken,” Mrs. Jameston admitted. “The pain, however, is not physical.” She began to cry and drew her lace-edged handkerchief to her face. “Oh, Cassie, I cannot even begin to understand my son’s actions.”

“I know. Mark approached me to help him get enough information and evidence on Sebastian that he could put him in jail for good. I feel horrible for not having told you sooner. Mark and I have only been pretending to care for each other so that he could get closer to Sebastian. Please, please forgive me.”

Mrs. Jameston dried her eyes and looked at Cassie. She gripped the younger woman’s wrist and shook her head. “There is nothing to forgive. You did the right thing. I would not lie to protect my son. I would not wish for anyone to let a murderer go unpunished. Oh, my dear Cassie, what you must have suffered. I am so very sorry.”

“No. I am fine. You are the one who has endured more than you should have had to.”

“But I am his mother.” She released Cassie’s arm and looked away again. “I should have seen him jailed long ago. After he attacked Essie and after so many other inappropriate incidents, I shouldn’t have fought to keep him from his punishment— but I felt so responsible. I thought if I interceded on his behalf he would be grateful and change his ways. How could he so completely abandon the truth he was taught?” She met Cassie’s gaze. “What are we to do now?”