The Visitor (4 page)

Lizzy and Mrs Walker also enjoyed one another’s company, but today there was an added bonus. After going home to check on Tate, Harriet Thorpe arrived for lunch as well.

“Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy greeted her warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m very well, Elizabeth.” The two had met in January. “How are you?”

“I’m well. I was thinking about your nephew this morning when I saw you come in alone. Has there been any improvement?”

“Not yet. The doctor still wants him to take it very slowly.”

Mrs Walker invited the women into the sitting room to get comfortable; the men were still in the study looking at elaborate plans for a plumbing system, something Mr Walker had picked up at the town market.

“When does Cassandra arrive?” Mrs Walker asked Lizzy as soon as the women were settled.

“This week.”

Lizzy went on to tell her hostess something about a recent letter, but Harriet barely heard her. As on the first occasion they had met, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with such a beautiful young woman. She couldn’t help but wonder if Tate had ever met her.

“I can’t remember, Elizabeth,” Harriet began when there was a lull. “Where were you moving from when you came to Collingbourne?”

“We have a home outside of Bath. We haven’t lived or visited here for some time, but it’s still like coming home.”

“Tell her about Pembroke, Harriet,” Mrs Walker put in. “It’s such a fun story.”

Harriet smiled. “Pembroke was built in 1755. It has a large ballroom, very ornate, and grounds of more than 600 acres. Twenty years after it was built, an observatory was added. Garden windows sit all along the first floor, and the sweeping view from the rear windows is nothing short of breathtaking.”

Harriet smiled again before adding, “I honeymooned at Pembroke. When Thorpe and I were married, the house belonged to his father. We spent six months here, roaming about and falling deeper in love. When it was time to return to London, I cried. When my father-in-law died and everything came to Thorpe, I cried again, knowing we could visit whenever we wished. We didn’t come nearly as often as I dreamed, but it was lovely knowing it waited here for us.”

“How wonderful,” Lizzy said, her voice betraying a tinge of envy.

“When Tate is feeling more the thing, you’ll have to come to visit.”

“I would enjoy that.”

“Still no visitors?” Mrs Walker questioned her friend.

“No. Tate still needs to take things quite slowly. Dr Tilney and I have thought of something that might work, but it’s a rather delicate matter. If you could pray that I’ll have wisdom in the days and weeks to come, I would much appreciate it.”

Harriet feared she might have said too much. She didn’t wish to be questioned at this time, and she was relieved that the men joined them before the conversation could proceed further. The five acquaintances moved to the dining room to eat, and Harriet was able to keep her plan private.

She surreptitiously watched Lizzy Steele the rest of the afternoon, wondering in her heart if she might be the person Tate needed. Lizzy was certainly lovely enough—not that looks mattered at a time like this. Still, Harriet’s heart was uncertain, so she kept her mouth shut.
It’s one of two things, Harriet, old girl,
she said to herself.
Either the whole idea is an ill-fated one, or Elizabeth Steele is not the person needed at this time.

For a moment, Harriet’s gaze shifted to Henry Steele, only just realizing he’d been rather quiet during the meal. However, she didn’t completely count him out, either.
It could be anyone, Lord, anyone at all. If the idea will work, You’ll show me somehow. Help me to be wise and aware.

Almost with a start, she realized she’d done little but think of Tate since arriving. Knowing enough was enough, Harriet settled in to enjoy the rest of lunch and her visit.

Chapter Two

Pembroke

Harriet wasted no time. She had checked on Tate before going to lunch but had then been gone for hours. The mansion was full of servants, and Tate was by no means helpless, but as soon as she arrived home she sought him out in order to check on him.

“How was lunch?” he asked kindly.

“It was lovely. Henry and Elizabeth Steele were there. Have you met Elizabeth, Tate?”

His brow furrowed. “Is she a blonde?”

“No, dark.”

“Then I must have met Charlotte. A remarkably beautiful woman, I might add.”

“As is Elizabeth. It isn’t just her mahogany-colored hair; she also has spectacular green eyes. I couldn’t stop staring at her.”

“Did she notice?” Tate asked with a smile.

“I hope not.” Harried laughed a little.

“How are the Walkers?”

“They are both very well. They asked after you.”

“That was kind of them. Do you have time to go over your sermon notes with me now?”

“I can do better than that. Pastor Hurst has begun writing a summary for you. If I read it to you each week, you’ll be right up to date when you’re up to going on your own. He even reiterated his offer to visit as soon as you would like.”

“I’ll have to dictate a thank-you note to him. Do you have time to read now?” Tate asked again, clearly ready for the day’s sermon.

“Yes. I’ll get the papers directly.”

When Harriet returned, Tate made himself comfortable and concentrated on the words his aunt read. He asked God to heal his eyes. He asked God to help him with patience during the process. Then he thanked God for the fact that even if he never saw again, his ears would let him hear the Word.

Newcomb Park

On Monday morning after breakfast, Lizzy began a letter to Edward. She hadn’t planned to write him so soon, but her heart woke with a lightness that came from peace with God, and she found herself wanting to talk to her younger brother about it.

“Cassandra will be back soon, and I’m very much looking forward to that,”
she wrote shortly after greeting him and asking about his health.

Henry is as ever, quiet and to himself, but genuinely kind. I am thankful for his presence. We lunched with Walkers yesterday. Henry very much enjoys Mr Walker. I think they could spend hours alone in the study with maps, plans, and such.

The sermon from the book of Jonah was challenging yesterday morning. I’m too like that stubborn prophet in the way I complain to God. It was a good reminder for me. I was in the midst of confessing my sin when Mrs Walker invited us to join them for lunch. I felt as though I’d been rescued because it helped take my mind from my selfish thoughts. Harriet Thorpe was also there, but her nephew, Tate, is still not well enough to be out.

My thoughts are often with you and Morland. I can only imagine a place as foreign as Africa, so you’ll have to be more descriptive in your letters. How is the food and their tea? Do you eat your meals at the same times we do? And your bed? What are you sleeping in? As you can see, I’m full of wonder about the whole experience, even as I’m very glad to be in England.

Just yesterday I came to great peace about the two of you leaving, but out of curiosity, Edward, does Morland ever speak of me or ask after me? I know you won’t say anything to him, and he can’t see my red face from Africa, but I do wonder.

Have you word from Charlotte? I think she and Barrington will be stopping in Collingbourne at some point, but I’m not sure when. I asked her in my last letter, but because they’re on the move, I’m not sure when she’ll receive it.

Lizzy sat back and thought about how life had changed in the last few months. So often these days she was on her own. It had seemed to her that a bit of peace and quiet around Newcomb Park would be lovely, but she missed her siblings terribly—more than she had expected.

Write soon, Edward, and tell me if you are well. You know you are always in my prayers. Don’t forget to send along any unusual maps or charts for Henry. His birthday is coming soon, and you know how pleased he would be. Tell Morland I said hello, and please take care of yourself.

My love to you,
              

Lizzy
                               

Lizzy addressed the letter and gave it to Kitty for the post. She realized when she was alone once again that her heart still yearned for Morland, but not with the angry ache that had been present for so many days.

I know I will fall again, Lord, but I ask You to help me. I ask for Your strength to go on, to be the woman You would have me be.

Lizzy didn’t ask the Lord to send her a husband in His time. Her heart simply wasn’t ready for that. Everything within her believed that she would never love anyone but Thomas Morland.

Pembroke

Tate’s shin collided in an unforgiving manner with the drawer he’d left out, and for a moment the tall, blind man stood still and winced as pain radiated up and down his leg. He’d done the exact thing a week before on the other leg and wondered when he was going to learn.

Hastings heard the bump and wasn’t long in checking on his employer.

“Did you need me, sir?”

Tate shut the drawer.

“Have I left anything else in my way, Hastings?”

“Yes. I’ll just get this other drawer.”

“Thank you.”

“I think, sir,” the faithful servant went on, shutting the dresser drawer and turning back to Tate, “if today is good for you, I’d like to trim your hair.”

Tate’s hand went to the back of his thick, dark hair. It was long at the nape and shaggy, even where the straps from his eye patches crossed the back of his head.

“Today will be fine. Right now even.”

“Very good, sir. Would you like to sit outside this time?”

“Yes. I shall be down directly.”

Hastings had helped him downstairs the first weeks they lived at Pembroke, but since the house and property were not entirely unfamiliar to Tate, it wasn’t long before he was moving about on his own.

“Hastings?” Tate called to his man before he could leave. “Are you still here?”

“Yes, sir.”