The Visitor (34 page)

Newcomb Park

Cassandra spotted him a moment too late. She was headed to the library and didn’t have to go through the parlor—and wouldn’t have if only she’d realized that her sister had a visitor. He’d spotted her as well.

“Hello, Morland.” Seeing no hope for it, Cassandra greeted him. Even as her face turned pink, she wished she’d gone the other way.

“Hello, Cassie. How are you?”

“Fine.” She knew she couldn’t leave now without being rude. “How are you?”

“I’m well. Cassie?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you embarrassed in front of me?”

Cassandra’s shoulders slumped.

“Oh, Morland, I caused everyone so much trouble. I feel ashamed.”

Morland was silent for a moment.

“Did you know your sister cared for me?”

Cassandra blinked at the change in subject but still said, “Yes.”

“Did Henry?”

“Yes.”

“And Charlotte? Edward?”

Cassandra nodded.

“Now, who should feel ashamed, Cassie? I went to Africa, having completely missed everything I now see in her eyes.”

Cassandra smiled at him.

“Thank you, Morland.”

“For what?”

“For being here—for coming as soon as you knew.”

Cassandra didn’t stay, but Morland didn’t need her to. After all, what else could he have done? He hadn’t known, but Cassandra was correct: As soon as he found out, he’d returned to England.

Chapter Sixteen

Blackburn Manor

“Hello, Mother.” Marianne greeted Mrs Walker warmly, receiving a kiss and an embrace.

“Don’t tell me,” her mother teased. “Have you actually come alone? Have you actually dared to visit without bringing any of my beautiful grandchildren?”

Marianne laughed as her mother looped an arm in hers and led her to the parlor.

It was a constant source of pleasure to Marianne that her parents never expressed second thoughts over their adopted grandchildren. Marianne had married a man who was a guardian to three of the sweetest children in England. Marianne had loved them from day one, and her parents had been no different.

“I wanted to come alone this time,” Marianne began when they were seated. “I have news for you and Father.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Mrs Walker answered, her smile kind. “I already know.”

“How could you? I found out only yesterday.”

Mrs Walker chuckled a little, even as she shook her head with the memory.

“Your sisters and brothers were all just here, dear. You grew weepy every time someone hugged you or one of the children wanted into your lap for a story. You even cried when you watched all the nieces and nephews grapple to hold Catherine.”

Remembering that it had been exactly that way, Marianne laughed at herself.

“Why is it like that, Mother? I have so much to be thankful for. I work hard to remember that, but then I end up crying all the time.”

“Tears don’t necessarily mean you’re not being thankful, Mari. People are emotional for all sorts of reasons. If you know your heart to be in line with God’s, then you must not worry. You’re also married to a godly man, who I know would be happy to help you in this. If you suspect you have things to work on, maybe sins you are unaware of, Jennings will help you.”

As might be expected, tears came to Marianne’s eyes. Her mother moved close to hug her. When Mr Walker joined them, she was just composing herself.

“Did you come to tell us your news?” her father teased, having listened to his wife’s wise words on the subject.

Marianne laughed, but the tears started again as well. Her parents laughed with her and at her, thinking her a most special daughter. Marianne thought they were special as well, but if she dwelt on that, she would be in tears all over again.

Richmond

“Good morning, Aunt Penelope.” Morland greeted the elderly aunt he lived with when in Collingbourne, kissing her cheek as he joined her at the breakfast table.

“Good morning, Morland. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Morland smiled at her teasing tone.

“Lizzy must have had plans this morning.”

Morland’s smile widened. “Indeed, she did.”

“When are you going to ask that girl to marry you and be done with it?”

Morland shook his head. “I find I don’t care to rush this. I never dreamed that Elizabeth Steele would want me for a husband. I want to enjoy this time, if you take my meaning.”

“Even if I didn’t, Lizzy needs to know that she’s getting the most wonderful man in the country.”

“You don’t speak with bias, do you, Auntie?”

“Of course not!” she blustered. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. I am never biased.”

Morland smiled at her.

“Don’t you dare give me that sassy look, Thomas Morland. I know enough about you to send Lizzy Steele running for her life.”

“Such as?”

“You never mind that!” She dismissed the subject with a wave of her thin, well-spotted hand. “Now, what day are you bringing Lizzy to lunch?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you select the day, and I’ll extend the invitation.”

“Very well. Tuesday! Tell Henry and Cassandra they are to come as well. And Edward.”

“I don’t believe Edward has returned yet.”

“Well, he must come soon.”

“Why is that?”

“He can’t miss the wedding,” Aunt Penelope explained as though Morland was a simpleton.

She continued on about what she would wear and how pretty Lizzy would look in her dress. Morland let her talk. It wasn’t at all hard to hear conversation about Lizzy, and as for picturing her in her wedding dress, Morland was all ears.

Newcomb Park

Cassandra was in the garden when Tate arrived Wednesday. They had both been home since Monday night, but Tate had not called on Tuesday. He’d shared with Cassandra how much he needed to be in touch with his business manager, so she wasn’t overly surprised not to hear from him.

In truth, Cassandra was rather eager to see Harriet Thorpe. The two women had shared something special all those weeks, and now it was over, at least in part. Cassandra didn’t want their relationship to be broken in any way, but she knew better than to call on her and possibly disturb Tate. Now this morning, not many hours after her ride with Henry, the man in question sought her out in the garden.

“Good morning, Miss Steele.” Tate bowed, his eyes smiling even before his mouth could join.

“Good morning, Mr Tate.” Cassandra did a small curtsy, flower basket hanging from her arm.

“You are busy this morning.”

“Not overly. Just gathering a few flowers for the dining room.” Cassandra suddenly felt shy and snipped another blossom so she could lower her eyes.

“Was your family pleased to see you?”

“Yes, very. Did your business correspondence go well?”

“Yes. I shall probably hear back from Pierrepont any day now.”

“He is the gentleman handling business affairs in your absence?”

“Yes.”

“You must have a great trust of him.”

“I do. We’ve known each other many years.”

“And do you have much property to manage?”

“A fair amount.”

Cassandra wondered if he was being modest but didn’t know how to ask.

“I think you have something on your mind.” Tate had been watching her very carefully.

Cassandra looked at him, understanding that his seeing her was going to add a new dimension to their relationship. She was still trying to decide how to reply when Tate pointed to a flower.

“Pick this one.”

“Why that one?”

“It’s the same color as your dress.”

Cassandra smiled and did as she was told, adding it to her basket, all the while asking herself why she was suddenly so shy. It felt as if the days of easy talk and camaraderie at Fairfax Hall were months in the past.

Tate could see that something was on her mind, but he didn’t press her to talk, at least not right then. He followed along and watched as she selected flowers, carefully collecting them for the basket.

“Where will these flowers go?” he asked, choosing a safe subject.

“To the dining room,” she answered with a smile, having already told him that.

“You said that, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why are we nervous with each other?” Tate asked quietly.

“There are probably several reasons,” Cassandra answered with her eyes on the garden, “but the one that comes to mind right now is how little we really know of each other.”

“I feel I know a lot about you.”

Cassandra looked at him.

“Why don’t you feel as though you know me?” he asked.

“Because of the way I came into your life. Your past was not my business. I didn’t visit Pembroke to question you. I came to read and give you rest.”

“And I felt free to ask more questions of you,” Tate guessed.

“Exactly.”

“Ask me something.”

“All right.” Cassandra was not about to let that pass. “Just now when we spoke of your holdings, you described them as a fair amount. Were you being modest?”

“Yes,” Tate answered without hesitation, going on to explain about his property. He was not as rich as a king, but his properties were substantial.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Does it matter so very much?”

“I think everything matters. When we were at Fairfax Hall, we spent all of our time telling Charlotte and Barrington how we’d met and gotten to know each other. Then you took time to relate your accident, and I realized it was the first time I’d heard all the details.

“Had you asked me in the garden that day to marry you, I would have said yes. I see now that God was protecting me. My heart would have rushed ahead when it was clearly wise that we go slowly and make sure of each other.”

“And that’s why you’re shy with me today?” Tate had to ask, as it was his idea to have a proper courtship in the first place.