The Visitor Read online

  Still lying in her bed, Cassandra prayed quietly. She thanked God for His forgiveness, the type that came in abundant amounts, and lay thinking about how undeserving she was of such kindness.

  Thank You. Thank You for saving me. Thank You for putting me in this special family and this wonderful home.

  For the next hour, Cassandra thanked God for every blessing in her life, starting with Henry’s recent letter to her and Lizzy. By the time she went to breakfast, she wished she hadn’t waited for her birthday to take some extra time but started every morning of the year in such a manner.

  Blackburn Manor

  “How is Henry Steele?” Mrs Walker asked of her husband over the breakfast table.

  “He’s doing well. He’s tired, but that’s no surprise since all change takes work.”

  “I’m so glad the family is back in the area.”

  “As am I.”

  “Did he say if Charlotte and Barrington will come anytime soon?”

  “He did not. You could check with Lizzy or Cassandra on Sunday.”

  “I think I will. Why don’t we have them to lunch?”

  “Good idea.”

  Mrs Walker made notes on a small pad, deciding to send word immediately and not wait for Sunday. Her husband asked her something a moment later, but at first she didn’t hear him. She was too busy mentally working out Sunday’s menu.

  Pembroke

  “I have something to tell you,” Cassandra announced to Tate before she picked up the newspaper.

  “What’s that?” he asked, proud of how unknowledgeable his voice sounded.

  “It’s my birthday today.”

  “Congratulations! Will you be having a party?” Again, his voice gave nothing away.

  “No, just dinner with Henry and Lizzy. And presents!” she added with a smile.

  “I think you like presents.”

  “I confess I do. My brother Edward sent me a game from Africa.”

  “Have you already opened your gifts?”

  “The one from Edward, yes.”

  “Before you came this morning?”

  “No, it arrived yesterday,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “But yesterday wasn’t your birthday.”

  “That’s true, but there are different rules for gifts that arrive by post.”

  “Is that right?” He sounded thoroughly captivated.

  “Certainly. You must open those the moment they come.”

  Tate laughed in a way that Cassandra had not heard for a while. Watching him, she smiled in pleasure, thinking that spending time with him was a lovely start to the day.

  “Has anything else come that you had to open immediately?”

  “No, but I think Charlotte will send something. She never forgets.”

  “And your other siblings will have gifts for you tonight?”

  “Yes. Henry will have something little and nice, but I think Lizzy might be planning something a bit larger.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She’s acting a bit odd. She keeps smiling at me.”

  “She doesn’t usually smile at you?”

  “Not like this. You’d have to see to know what I mean.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  “Statements about your sight don’t offend you, do they, Mr Tate?”

  “Not usually.”

  “They fall from my tongue so easily and thoughtlessly.”

  “I never find you thoughtless.”

  “I think you are being kind.”

  “And I think you are overly harsh with yourself.”

  When Cassandra didn’t answer, Tate opted for another rescue. “Are you ready to read?”

  “Yes.”

  The personal conversation was put aside. Cassandra read for almost an hour, and other than wishing her another birthday greeting as she exited, Tate’s time with her did not stray to the personal.

  “Why must we go to town?” Cassandra asked again, but Lizzy, from her side of the carriage, didn’t reply. Lunch had barely been over when Lizzy ordered the coach, and her sister as well.

  “You’re being very mysterious, Elizabeth.”

  “It’s just something I wish to give myself,” she said at last.

  “On my birthday?”

  Lizzy laughed, completely unrepentant. “Yes. Now sit back and enjoy the day. We’ll be there very soon.”

  Cassandra knew she would get nothing else from her. She was enjoying the day, but a trip into Collingbourne did not figure into her plans.

  “Here we are,” Lizzy said gaily, the coach coming to a stop in town.

  “Where exactly?”

  “You shall see soon enough.”

  Lizzy led them to a small shop, opened the door, and entered. The moment they were inside, a man stood to his feet and came toward them.

  “Are you Mr Clay?” Lizzy inquired.

  “I am.”

  Lizzy bowed her head to his bowing acknowledgment.

  “I am Elizabeth Steele, and this is my sister. I would like a miniature done of her today.”

  “Certainly, ma’am. If Miss Steele will just have a seat.”

  “Lizzy!” Cassandra hissed at her, but the older woman only turned with huge, innocent eyes.

  “Sit down, Cassie. You heard the man.”

  Cassandra had all she could do not to laugh at her sister’s triumphant face. Instead she took a quick peek in the mirror that hung on the wall, adjusted two curls at her cheeks, and took the seat offered.

  Mr Clay smiled kindly at her and began. Several times Cassandra looked toward Lizzy, but she had moved to look at the frames displayed at the rear of the shop.

  In a remarkably short time, the tiny portrait was completed, framed, and paid for. Lizzy led the way to the carriage, only just holding her laughter.

  “You dreadful creature!” Cassandra accused, laughter filling every word. “That was terribly embarrassing!”

  “I wasn’t embarrassed.”

  Cassandra’s mouth opened with surprise over her sister’s impertinence.

  “I’ll take you to a lovely tea at Gray’s to make up for it,” Lizzy offered, still looking too pleased by half.

  “I shouldn’t let you. I should be terribly angry.”

  Lizzy held out the miniature, her face and voice all at once serious.

  “It’s lovely, Cassie, just as I knew it would be. And we’ll always remember that we got it on your birthday.”

  Cassandra gave in.

  “I’ll forgive you over tea.”

  Lizzy’s smile went right back in place. She was glad to have the picture—she would treasure it always—but getting Cassandra out of the house for a time would allow Mrs Jasper and Cook to do a few extra things for the party, a party that would allow Lizzy to finally meet Cassandra’s Mr Tate.

  Newcomb Park

  “Lizzy, are you in here?” Cassandra called to her as she opened the bedroom door. She found the room empty. She stood for a moment, trying to think where she hadn’t checked. All set for dinner and getting hungry, she was most determined to find her sister.

  “Henry,” she tried his office. “Have you seen Lizzy?”

  “No. Is dinner ready?”

  “I think soon.”

  Lizzy chose that moment to appear.

  “We’re set for five, Lizzy,” Cassandra stopped her, her voice suspicious. “Who did you invite?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Cassandra had never seen her sister like this. First the trip into town and now two mystery guests.

  “Is Anne Weston out of bed?” Cassandra began to guess. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “As a matter of fact, Anne will be up at the end of the month, but they are not coming to dinner.”

  “Are Charlotte and Barrington coming into town this evening?”

  “I wish they were, but no, they are still in the north of England.”

  Cassandra frowned at her older sister.

  “I don’t like surprises, Lizzy.�
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  “Don’t you?” Lizzy asked with maddening calm.

  Cassandra could only stare at her. Lizzy smiled and moved on her way. Cassandra followed, not even aware that Henry was bringing up the rear. She followed her sister directly to the front door, where Jasper was just opening it for their guests.

  Harriet Thorpe walked in, Mr Tate holding her arm as she led.

  “Mrs Thorpe,” Cassandra began in amazement. “Mr Tate.”

  “Hello, Cassandra.” Tate’s deep voice sent shivers up her arms and neck.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice betraying her uncertainty.

  “I am very well, thank you. I am planning on a very restful evening.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew it was my birthday all along.”

  “I confess I did. Your sister invited us over the weekend.”

  “You even knew what she was planning when I spoke of it this morning,” Cassandra accused, all the pieces falling together in her mind.

  “Guilty again.”

  Not until that moment did Cassandra realize that she and Mr Tate had gone to where they always went—a world of their own.

  “Please forgive me,” Cassandra began when she saw her sister’s bemused but smiling face. “Mr Tate, allow me to present you to my brother, Mr Henry Steele, and my sister, Miss Elizabeth Steele.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Tate said, bowing formally.

  “The pleasure is all ours,” Lizzy offered.

  “Please come and make yourself comfortable,” Henry invited, liking this tall gentleman very much.

  Conversation started the moment the five were at the table. Over beef Wellington they discussed the church family, news from town, Tate’s travels in Europe, and Edward’s trip to Africa. The time raced by, but Cassandra’s siblings were able to observe her with the man she visited each day.

  Cassandra was seated closer to Tate than his aunt, so it was the younger woman who, from time to time, directed their guest to things on his plate, or to his utensils or drink. Both Henry and Lizzy caught the ease of this action, as well as Mrs Thorpe’s apparent familiarity with the situation.

  “Did I just knock my glass over?” he asked Cassandra at one point.

  “No, it’s standing upright, but some dripped on the side. To your right,” Cassandra said quietly, letting Tate know that someone was coming to change his glass. Cassandra waited until he found the new goblet with his hand before going back to her own meal.

  “That was marvelous,” Harriet said sincerely, the meal coming to an end.

  “Thank you, Mrs Thorpe. I think we’ll have dessert after Cassandra opens a few gifts.”

  Harriet smiled at Cassandra’s look of excitement. “I love it, Cassandra, that you still enjoy presents.”

  “I probably should grow up someday, but not today.”

  Tate’s deep chuckle sounded beside her, and Cassandra turned for a moment to look at him. Having him in her home was something she never imagined. All she wanted to do was sit close beside him and watch his every move.

  “May I take your arm, Cassandra?” Tate asked when they’d come to their feet.

  “Certainly.”

  With little ceremony, the five moved to the largest sitting room, getting comfortable in the deep chairs, all with a good view of Cassandra and her gifts.

  Lizzy gave her a lovely silk shawl, Tate and Harriet had found a book of French poetry, and Henry gave her her own book of maps. Cassandra was delighted with each and every one, but nothing could compare to having Mr Tate at her birthday party. She knew it was a night she would never forget.

  “Come in,” Cassandra called when there was a knock on her door much later that evening. She should have been ready for bed, but instead she had only taken down her hair and sat before the mirror to study her reflection. She turned to see Lizzy put her head in.

  “Too tired to talk?”

  “No.”

  Lizzy went over to the bed. Cassandra was at her dressing table, so Lizzy sat on the end nearest her.

  “Thank you for a wonderful day and evening, Lizzy. I shall not forget it for a very long time.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Cassandra worked on her hair, able to see her sister in the reflection of the glass.

  “What’s wrong, Cassie?” Lizzy asked.

  Surprised by the question, she turned to look at her sister.

  “I don’t know that anything is wrong.”

  “Well, I do. I can read it in your eyes. I saw a change come over you at the end, when Mr Tate and his aunt were leaving.”

  Cassandra turned back to her mirror. She pulled the brush through her hair a few more times and then set it aside.

  “I’m starting to feel things for Mr Tate,” she confessed.

  “Why is that a problem?”

  Cassandra hesitated before saying, “He thinks I’m one of the beautiful Steele sisters.”

  “You are one of the beautiful Steele sisters.”

  Cassandra’s look was telling.

  “You know what I’m speaking of, Lizzy.”

  “I know how foolish people can be.”

  Cassandra sighed and turned back to the mirror.

  “I’m fine with my red hair, Lizzy; you know I am. My freckles are rather tiresome, but I don’t yearn to look like you or Charlotte. He can’t see me, Lizzy. I can’t have him falling for someone he imagines and then finding me.”

  Lizzy felt her breath catch in her throat. That someone would not find her sister lovely was so painful to her that she could hardly breathe. Cassandra Steele was beautiful, not just because she was her sister, and not just because her face was utterly lovely—freckles and all—but because her heart was humble and sweet, and her love for Christ was real and deep.

  “So you think he might have feelings for you?”

  “At times I gain that impression.”

  “And you do not think he’s asked his aunt how you appear?”

  “He probably has, but imagining and seeing are not the same.” Cassandra met Lizzy’s eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of seeing disappointment in his gaze. I think it would pull my heart from my chest.”

  “All right.” Lizzy had to get practical or cry. “Let’s just imagine that you are quite homely, nothing to look at at all. You don’t think him man enough to love your heart, to find you beautiful no matter what your actual appearance?”

  “Point well taken, Lizzy, but no less easier to live with. I would ask myself for years if he was disappointed. That’s no way to live.”

  “And it doesn’t help that I think you’re beautiful?”

  “You can see me, Lizzy. There are no surprises for you. In truth, he may find my looks very appealing, but it’s that first moment I dread, that first look when I see recognition in his eyes.”

  “And will you find me utterly cruel if I suggest that he may never see you, that all of this won’t matter in the least?”

  “I’ve thought of that, Lizzy. I’ve even been so selfish as to think how easy that would be, but something in my heart tells me he will see again, and when that day happens, I will want to do nothing but hide.”

  Lizzy could see that no number of words were going to bring comfort. She hugged and kissed her sister goodnight, exiting to her own room and telling the Lord that she was going to have to leave this with Him.

  I want to fix it. I want to erase the pain in her eyes, but I can’t do that. Only You can give her lasting peace, Father. Help me to trust You to that end.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pembroke

  “Do you think she enjoyed her gift?” Tate asked Harriet the moment they met at the breakfast table Saturday morning.

  “Without a doubt, dear.”

  “It sounded as if she did.”

  “Your ears did not lie. She was delighted.”

  “And our being there? Was she as pleased as she sounded?”

  “Very much so. Did you doubt?”

&
nbsp; “No, I just wish I could have experienced it with my eyes, so I’m trying to imagine all I can.”

  “What did you think of her family?”

  “They were very kind. I can tell they love each other very much.”

  “I think Henry enjoyed you. He’s not overly talkative, but he made some efforts on your account.”

  “Yes, he did. Cassandra has told me that he’s close to James Walker. I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

  Food was served in the midst of their conversation. Harriet fixed Tate’s tea the way he liked it and waited for him to pray.

  “Did you tell Cassandra about the doctor’s visit?” she asked after they began to eat.

  “Yes.”

  Tate’s voice had gone rather soft, so Harriet did not press him. That her nephew was falling for Cassandra Steele was only too clear. That his vision was on his mind, and how that might impact his future with her, was clear also.

  Much as Harriet wanted to make suggestions about managing a romance, she knew Tate would have to handle this on his own. Just before Tate continued with his questions for her, she had a moment to wonder if he’d ever asked Cassandra whether she could love a man who was nearly blind.

  “What did you think of Mr Tate?” Cassandra asked Henry the moment they were on horseback the following morning.

  “He seems a fine man.”

  “So you approve of my knowing him?”

  Henry turned to look at her and found her eyes anxious for his approval.

  “Yes, Cassie, I do. I would wish you not to rush into anything should a proposal present itself, but from what I know of Mr Tate, I approve of your friendship.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Will you be going to read today?”

  “No. I’m taking a day off.”

  Henry didn’t question her but nodded, his eyes speaking agreement.

  Nothing else was said on the subject, or any subject, for that matter. On this particular morning ride, words were unnecessary.

  Blackburn Manor

  “I must show you something, Mr Walker,” Cassandra announced as soon as they arrived at the house Sunday after church. “Henry has given me a gift.”