The Visitor (39 page)

“How could we be in town when you arrived? How could we have missed your coach?”

“I don’t know, but I was dreadfully put out. I pouted until Morland arrived. Good thing you’ve had sense enough to keep him around, Lizzy.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she accused him. “Although you are tan. Was it dreadfully hot?”

“Yes. I did so enjoy the coolness of England’s clime as we drew near.”

“Henry’s away,” Cassandra informed him.

“Morland explained.”

Cassandra nodded, her smile becoming a bit more tentative.

“So, what plans do we have for the evening?” Edward asked. “Do tell me that we’re going to have a leisurely meal and play cards in quiet repose—Cassandra the Great as my partner, hmm?”

Both of his sisters laughed. He was always such a charming card. Lizzy was happy to tell him that they would do that very thing, and even happier to invite Morland to join them.

“At the end of the day,” Cassandra said from the corner of Lizzy’s bed, “diversions or not, I still ache to see Alexander Tate.”

“I’m sure you do.” Lizzy’s voice was filled with compassion. “It wasn’t my plan to distract you to forgetfulness, Cassie, but to make the day go by more swiftly.”

“And I’m thankful for your efforts, Lizzy. I had a lovely time. Edward’s arrival was the icing on top.”

Lizzy didn’t comment, even though she agreed. Her mind was still on Tate.

“What is it that troubles you the most, Cassie? Are you angry with Tate?”

“No, not at all. I’ve never seen Henry like he was. I almost pity Tate having to face him. He was fierce, Lizzy. But above all else, I don’t want Tate hurt again. He’s not been horseback riding or even ridden in a carriage much since the accident. I think how difficult it would be to lose his vision again after such a short time. I want him to be safe.”

“And that’s why you’re not angry with him,” Lizzy concluded.

“Yes. I will admit that I am hurt by the things he said, but even that is tempered by my compassion.”

“And what of your own heart? Have you care for that?”

Cassandra smiled a little and shook her head in wonder.

“What a funny creature I am, Lizzy. First I run to Bath out of fear for my heart, and then I forgive a man when he’s offered no apology out of regard for his heart.”

“What do you pray for him?” Lizzy wished to know.

“I pray for the things Henry wrote in his letter—mostly that Tate would remember that God is still in control and he can trust Him.”

“And for yourself?”

“The very same prayer.”

Cassandra leaned now and kissed Lizzy goodnight. She slipped out the door and to her own bedroom, ready for sleep.

Pembroke

“I was not aware that you were still in Collingbourne, Mrs Thorpe. Your note was a great surprise,” Cassandra told her after the older woman had given her a hug.

“Did you think I’d gone to London?”

“Yes.”

“Tate was not at his best,” Harriet stated simply. “I felt it wise to let him go alone.”

Cassandra nodded, realizing that this lady would have no idea how her last conversation with Tate had gone.

“Shall we go to the veranda? It’s such a nice day out.”

“That would be fine.”

Cassandra felt herself relaxing. She had arrived at Pembroke, dread filling her, until she understood that Harriet Thorpe was only continuing the friendship they had begun. She didn’t even ask if Tate had stopped to see her. In turn, Cassandra did not mention it.

“My brother Edward has arrived home.”

“He was in Africa?”

“Yes. It’s wonderful to see him.”

“Has he told you all about it?”

“Bits and pieces. He’s something of a character, so we have to do a little puzzling together. It sounds as though he had a marvelous time.”

“Does Morland know he’s home?”

“Yes. He was actually at the house ahead of Lizzy and me.”

“And have Lizzy and Morland made any plans?”

“No,” Cassandra told her, knowing she would be discreet.

“I would ask the same question of you and Tate, but I think I’ll know that even before either of you tell me.”

Cassandra only smiled and took a sip of water. That her heart felt like a strong hand was wrapped around it squeezing tightly did not show on her face. Cassandra was relieved to have Harriet change the subject.

They visited for a time, and Cassandra even ended up staying for lunch. She was attentive to all of Harriet’s comments on Tate, and Harriet took her lack of words on the man as shyness. When she left, her heart breathed another sigh of relief. She hadn’t broken down or been questioned by her hostess.

Harriet saw her off, thinking that shy girls were her favorites.
She didn’t even ask me about him,
Harriet thought, truly impressed.
Cassandra: a sweet wife who is at times a little shy. She is just what Tate needs.

London

Henry had not been to London in some time, but many of the sights and sounds were familiar. It was quite warm, and therefore not a popular time to be in the city, but the streets were still busy. Henry spent a good deal of time looking out the window at neighborhoods previously unknown to him. The instructions they had been given to Tate’s home, however, seemed to be leading them in the right direction.

As he’d been asking himself for many miles, Henry wondered again if he’d been too harsh on the man. He had only heard Cassandra’s side of the story—not that he didn’t trust her—but not until after he’d sent the letter did he put himself in Tate’s shoes.

It was Henry’s hope that he would never grow so agitated and overreact, but in truth the Steele family had never been dealt such a financial blow, and he could only surmise as to his response.

The coach lurched and moved on its way. Henry felt as though he’d been traveling for weeks. But at least they’d made it to town. The wait to see how Tate was doing would soon be over.

Preston Manor

Tate laid his head back against his desk chair and prayed for wisdom. With every inquiry he learned of more deception in Pierrepont’s dealings. It was starting to look as though he been planning things for a long time. The business manager could not have known that his employer was going to experience a fall and be confined to the country, but he had certainly wasted no time taking advantage when it happened.

And always in the back of his mind—no matter what he was facing at the moment—was Cassandra. Tate took a few minutes of luxury to fully think of her and pray for her, but Hastings interrupted him when he knocked softly on the door and entered. Tate sat up, his face showing the concern and fatigue that filled him.

“What is it, Hastings?” Even his voice sounded tired.

“Mr Steele is here, sir.”

“Bring him right in. Thank you.”

Tate was on his feet when Henry entered but had no energy to move around the desk. Henry, on the other hand, came right to him and shook his hand.

“How are things, Tate?” the older of the two asked.

“In my heart, things are all right—much better—but the situation is not good. Pierrepont has commandeered many of my holdings, selling them and secreting the money away. But I don’t wish to discuss that, Henry, until you read my letter.” Tate reached for an envelope that lay on his desk. “I was getting ready to send this to you when I received your missive.” This said, Tate handed him the letter. “Please read it now.”

A fine leather chair sat opposite Tate’s desk. Henry made himself comfortable and began to read.

My foolishness in leaving Collingbourne in such a state pains me deeply. Not for myself, but for Cassandra and my Aunt Harriet. I calmed down enough to realize what I’d done by the time I reached London, but you were so right; my actions have been reprehensible.

Please do not cut me off from your family, and most especially Cassandra. Please give the enclosed letter to her. I would even prefer that you read it before doing so. I love your sister. I lost sight of that for a few hours, but it’s true. If you and Cassandra are willing to give me another chance, I will not disappoint you again. My financial losses are great, but what are they compared to the loss of your friendship and Cassandra’s love?

I await your word on this matter. I await it prayerfully, in hope that you can forgive me.

Most sincerely,
                    

A. Tate
                                  

The moment Henry finished his letter, he opened his sister’s. He started to read, but stopped and folded it again.

“Thank you for your letter, Tate. I am very willing to continue our friendship, but I feel that your words to Cassie are private. Why don’t you give me the gist of the letter rather than my reading it.”

“Thank you,” Tate said, actually feeling emotionally spent. “I say some of the very things I speak of in your letter, and then I tell her I love her and ask her if she can forgive me. If she can, I ask that we continue our time of courtship and make plans for the future.

“Just so you know,” Tate went on in case Henry was tempted to speak, “my income
has
been affected by all of this, but I can still support your sister and see to her every need.”