The Visitor (26 page)

“I missed both of you,” she said. “Shall I go ahead to the library, or is he not expecting me?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

Harriet didn’t add that he’d waited every day. Harriet had waited every day as well. Her emotions almost overflowed as she watched Cassandra move across the foyer.

Cassandra was completely unaware of the other woman’s gaze. Pleased to be back, she made a beeline for the library and gave her usual greeting.

“Hello, Mr Tate.”

“Cassandra!” Tate exclaimed with pleasure. “I missed you,” he added, not wasting time at all. “Come, sit near. Are you certain you’re all right?”

“Yes. It was a rather nasty illness, but I am well over it.”

“I’m glad you are well, for your sake as well as my own,” he added wryly.

“How is that?”

“I found the days grew long.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.” Tate’s voice was serious, and Cassandra found herself watching him closely. “My aunt,” he continued, “said the Barringtons are here.”

“Yes.” Cassandra’s voice held a smile. “It’s been wonderful.”

“I hope you didn’t feel as though you had to come, Cassandra.”

“No, Mr Tate, indeed not,” Cassandra said, but she felt tentative. If the days had grown long for him, why did he sound uncertain about having her back?

“Are you positive you wish me to be back, Mr Tate?” Cassandra asked the question in her mind.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I had large amounts of time to think about things.”

When he didn’t say what, Cassandra asked, “Anything in particular?”

“Yes, things I wished I’d asked you before you grew ill.”

“Oh.” This word came out just before Cassandra felt her breath catch. His voice was serious again, and continued to be so.

“Things that I believe I now have the courage to voice, if you’ll allow me.”

“These questions,” Cassandra began swiftly, afraid he would go on. “You said they have been on your mind?”

“Yes, for some time.”

“Have they caused you distress?”

“At times.”

Cassandra licked her lips. Was she ready to hear what he had to say? Even as she asked this of herself, she hated the thought of his being in distress for any reason.

“You may ask me whatever you wish, Mr Tate.”

“Very well.”

“But I must warn you, if I’ve not given the idea much thought, I will have to return with my answer at another time.”

“I believe that to be very fair.”

Cassandra waited, her body tense, her eyes on the man across from her.

“You’re going to think me foolish, but I actually want to ask you if your skin is soft all the time.”

Cassandra laughed a little with relief, even as her cheeks grew pink.

“I don’t know. I guess it is.”

“And are you always so kind and easy to be with?”

“I’m not perfect, Mr Tate—you must realize that—but I do hope I’m kind.”

Tate too licked suddenly dry lips and plunged in, speaking faster than normal.

“Is there any chance, Cassandra, that you could care for a man whose vision was not perfect?”

“Well,” Cassandra said thoughtfully, “I don’t think a person’s looks or situation in life is all that important. Does that answer your question?”

“Somewhat,” Tate hesitated, asking himself how far he should push this. He decided not to live in this particular darkness any longer. “Have you ever considered marriage to someone who wasn’t as complete in frame as yourself?”

“I don’t very often picture myself married, so I’m not certain I can tell you that,” Cassandra answered quite honestly, so certain was she that he would never want her.

“If you did picture yourself married, what type of marriage would make you happy?”

“One that was centered on my belief in Christ.” Cassandra knew that answer right away. “One that was of love, I think.”

“Are there other things of import to you?”

“I don’t know. Let me think.”

Cassandra’s mind raced around a bit, and she even came to her feet and began to pace.

“Are you leaving?”

“No, just trying to think.”

“Have I upset you?”

“No, it’s a very good question, one that I probably should have considered before now. My parents,” she went on, her mind getting settled, “valued one another, yet my father had the final word on things. I can’t lead you to believe that my mother was always pleased about it—sometimes they disagreed—but if my father was firmly against something, it would not occur.”

“Was he firm about many things?”

“No. That was one of the sweetest things about him. He was only firm when he needed to be. He didn’t get into a muddle over things of little consequence, but big things—things involving people and relationships in our family or the church family—were important to him.”

Tate listened to her walk around. He would have smiled at the picture it presented in his mind, but he was afraid she would think him laughing at her.

“Respect!” Cassandra said suddenly, turning to Tate. “That’s the word I was looking for. My parents had great respect for one another. Even if they became upset about something, they tried to remain calm and talk it out as best they could.”

“Belief, love, and respect. Those are very important indeed.”

“And honesty,” Cassandra added. “I think it’s not always easy to be yourself with someone, and that’s a form of lying, but as much as we’re able, we need to be honest.”

“I think you must be very honest,” Tate said to Cassandra, believing it with all his heart.

“I hope I am,” Cassandra said, even as she worried about her looks, wishing he could see her right now. If his rejection of her was complete, she could move away, maybe to Bath, until she was over him or he moved back to London.

Was it lying not to tell him what she looked like? Cassandra pushed the thought away. With no answer, it only made her miserable. Instead, she asked, “Would you like me to read to you now?”

Tate could hear the need for rescue in her voice. Thinking that in all fairness, he’d found out even more than he asked, he was swift to agree. Still not certain if her own heart was becoming involved with him, he knew that subject might need to wait for another day.

So pleased and thankful just to have her near again, Tate settled back and listened to the sound of her voice, not letting himself worry about the future.

Newcomb Park

“You’re back, Cassie,” Charlotte said when she spotted her just before lunch. “How is Mr Tate today?”

“He’s doing well.”

“Are you reading a book to him?”

“No, just the newspaper.”

That Charlotte wanted to ask more was only too clear. Cassandra stood still, waiting for her to continue but not helping out in the least. She even let a small smile peek through, telling Charlotte she was on to her.

Lizzy’s right! She has grown up. Why did I never see it before?

“Do you mind if I ask you about Mr Tate, Cassie?” Charlotte tried speaking to Cassandra as she would Lizzy. “Or do you find me intrusive?”

“I don’t mind at all, Charlotte.”

The women moved to chairs in the small downstairs parlor. They grew comfortable and watched each other, Cassandra waiting again for Charlotte to lead.

“When you read to him, is it uncomfortable with him not being able to see you?”

“Not since the first days. He’s very at ease with his present situation, and that makes it easy for everyone else.”

“Is there a chance he’ll see again?”

“Yes. There’s already been some improvement to his sight. He’s waiting, allowing his body to continue to heal.”

“And he does that patiently—waiting, I mean?”

Cassandra smiled. “I rather admire his trust, Charlotte. He’s chosen to wait on God for this. It’s wonderful to watch him rest in God’s hand.”

“Lizzy has led me to believe that you might admire him for more than just that.”

Cassandra smiled again. “I will confess to you that I find him very special.”

“Do you love him?”

“I think I could love him very easily.”

Charlotte saw a bit of herself right now, Lizzy as well.

“You’re holding back, Cassie. Can you tell me why?”

“The obvious reason: He can’t see me.”

It was on Charlotte’s tongue to chide her sister, tell her that it didn’t matter, but in a flash she asked herself what it would be like if Barrington had never seen her. After a thoughtful moment, she told Cassandra what was on her heart.

“I’ve only just realized that I’ve taken for granted that Barrington and I can see each other. I’m sure I’ll be guilty of that again. But something else has also just occurred to me: Even though I think Barrington the most handsome man in England and he tells me daily that I’m beautiful, I can tell you that if we didn’t treat each other with kindness, if we didn’t love and care for each other, not all the physical beauty in the world would make up for that.”

Cassandra knew her sister spoke the truth. It made perfect sense. She thanked Charlotte, hugged her, and began to pray. She asked God to settle her heart on this issue and to help her to listen.

I am too often guilty of asking for Your help and then not taking it. Please help me, Lord. I don’t know if I can let Tate get close enough to love me, if ever he would. I think I might love him already, but I’m terrified.

Jasper announced at that moment that Pastor Hurst had come to visit. Cassandra was torn between frustration and relief. She knew it was time to talk this out with her heavenly Father but found it was a task she could easily put off.

Heading into the foyer to meet the pastor, Cassandra thought about the fact that her sisters thought her very grown-up of late.

If they knew how much I want to run and hide from Alexander Tate, they would realize that, at least in one sense, I’m still just a child.

Blackburn Manor

“I’m an emotional mess,” Henry said with disgust on Wednesday morning. “The closer I get to my family, the more I want to worry and be overly protective. Lizzy headed into the garden last week, and I stood at the window and watched her as though she were going to be captured by a band of marauders.”

Walker laughed, and Henry chuckled as well.

“We can laugh at this, Walker,” Henry went on, his voice still good-natured, “but in truth, I don’t know if I’m any better off than I was before.”

“How so?”

“Well, at one time it was the sin of keeping myself away from all others; now it’s the sin of worry.” Henry sat back, his head shaking in self-derision.

“I won’t tell you not to fight that sin, Henry, since God is in control and we have no cause for worry, but I’ll still say this: I’m very proud of you. You’re a changed man. It’s not every believer who hears of his sin and determines to do something about it. You could have fought me and told me to mind my own business. It felt as though I was asking the impossible of you, but you trusted God and began to change.

“Likewise, that will happen with this temptation to worry. We all have that tendency with our families. I came to Christ late in life, and two of my children have never believed. Their children don’t believe—my own dear grandchildren. I ache with that knowledge, but I can’t worry. I have to keep praying for them and leaving them in God’s hands.”