A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  Lost in his thoughts, Mark very nearly missed the Jameston address. He focused on the four-story mansion and wondered which of the ornate windows belonged to Sebastian.

  The lawn was well manicured with lovely flower beds and tall, majestic trees. The landscaping seemed to beckon him to come and share in its peaceful tranquillity. But Mark knew he’d find no peace there.

  He kept his gaze fixed on the house, watching for any sign of movement or occupants. There was nothing, however. He supposed he couldn’t be so lucky as to have Sebastian Jameston just happen to wander outside.

  He urged Portland forward, but all the while watched the property. It wasn’t until the horse whinnied and snorted that Mark put his attention back on the road. Only it was too late. His mistake played out in front of him as a young woman rounded the corner abruptly and screamed as Portland reared in uncharacteristic fear.

  CHAPTER 5

  The last conscious thought Cassie had was of being stomped to death by the reddish beast. She let the black calm take her and felt as though she were floating. Was this what death was like? Funny how there was no pain.

  “Miss?”

  The voice sounded faint at first. It held a warmth and concern that greatly appealed to Cassie’s senses. She felt the fog lift as he continued to call to her. Did the voice belong to God?

  “Miss. Open your eyes.”

  She tried to, but they felt ever so heavy. Surely God could just open them for her if He wanted them to be open. Little by little, the feeling was coming back to her. She felt something wrapped around her back. Had God given her angel wings?

  “Are you all right, miss? Please wake up.”

  Cassie opened her eyes and stared up into the handsomest face she’d ever known. God was certainly dashing. She chided herself. Of course God would be dashing. He was, after all, God.

  But what had happened? For a moment, she couldn’t remember anything, but the more she concentrated, the clearer it became that this was not heaven, and the handsome man was not God. The reality of it all was quite disappointing, for she wouldn’t have minded spending eternity in the presence of one so lovely to look upon. The man’s dark blue eyes held her captive, while his frown assured her that her injuries must have been grave.

  “Am I . . . how badly am I hurt?” she asked, trying to detect any pain in her body. The absence of it was almost unnerving. More disturbing still was the warmth of the stranger’s arms around her as he knelt beside her.

  He smiled, and Cassie felt mesmerized. “I don’t believe you have any injuries, miss. I’m afraid you fainted dead away when Portland began to fret.”

  Cassie tried to remember what had happened. The horse! She could see those horrible hooves coming down on top of her and gripped the man’s arm without meaning to. He pulled her closer.

  “I wasn’t thinking . . . I mean . . . I was, but not about where I was going.” She realized how intimately he held her and felt her heart skip a beat. “I was upset. It was silly. Oh bother.” Pushing away, she refocused on the moment. “Am I truly without injury?” She scrambled to her feet and smoothed out her skirt.

  The man chuckled and got to his feet as well. “I don’t know for certain. Perhaps you should tell me.”

  Cassie shrugged. “I suppose the only thing truly injured is my pride.”

  This caused the man to laugh all the more. “Well, I speak from experience when I say that such things mend quite quickly if left alone.”

  Cassie smiled. “I suppose you saved my life from that brute.”

  The man sobered. “Portland is not a brute. You startled him. That was all.”

  “He started it,” Cassie countered. “He startled me with his stomping and snorting. It was like some kind of demon possessed him.”

  “Now, stop. He’s just over there, and he might hear you. You’ll hurt his feelings.” The man’s teasing voice was not at all what Cassie had counted on.

  She watched as he walked to where the horse awaited him. He took up the reins and drew him toward Cassie. She immediately backed up until she was pinned against a large maple tree.

  “No. Get him away.” The terror in her voice was clear even to her own ears.

  “I don’t understand,” the man said. He seemed sympathetic enough and stopped in midstep. “My horse is quite friendly. He won’t hurt you.”

  “My father was killed in a riding accident. The horse threw him and then trampled him to death. I watched the entire thing,” Cassie said, drawing her arm up as if to shield herself.

  “I’m so sorry. No wonder you have such an irrational fear.”

  This bolstered Cassie a bit. “It’s not irrational. I have a very good rationale for my feelings.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. But they aren’t reasonable. Our entire society is dependent upon horses for transportation and work. You cannot merely go about being terrified of them the rest of your life.”

  Cassie relaxed a bit and shrugged. “It’s suited me well enough for ten years.”

  “But it would suit you better to overcome such fear. Now come here and make up with Portland.”

  Cassie felt her eyes widen as she caught the large brown eyes of the horse. “Sir, I do not know you, and I have no desire to know your mount.”

  He laughed. “I am Marcus Langford, but my friends call me Mark. And you are . . . ?”

  “Cassie. Cassandra Stover.”

  “And where do you live, Miss Stover?”

  “There,” she said, pointing to the Jameston mansion. She saw him frown and wondered why her response seemed so unappealing. “What’s wrong? It’s a wonderful house. I am Mrs. Jameston’s companion. She’s the older woman who owns this property.”

  “I see. And how long have you been her companion?”

  Cassie thought the question strange, but at least it kept him from forcing her to meet his horse. Goodness, but why did some men think they had to fix everything? “I’ve only just started. I’ve been there for about two weeks.”

  “And do you find it to your liking?” He reached up and stroked his horse casually.

  “I do. Well, I did until her son came back to stay. He was injured, though, and there was no putting him from the house. He’s caused all sorts of upset, however. No one likes him.” She clenched her jaw shut and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I should be more careful about speaking my mind.”

  Mark laughed. “I like a woman who speaks her mind. It makes her more honest and her company more enjoyable.”

  “I doubt that is true of me. I do try to refrain,” she said with a sigh, “but sometimes . . . like now . . . it just pours out of me.”

  Cassie eyed the horse again. She was surprised at how calm the animal had remained at Mark’s side. He appeared perfectly safe, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe that.

  “I see you are reconsidering Portland. He’s a fine gelding. And actually, he’s very mild-mannered. When you came running out around that shrubbery, he was taken by surprise. That’s all. He meant you no harm.”

  “You talk as if you understand what he’s thinking,” Cassie said, returning her gaze to the man. He was dressed well in a dark blue frock coat and trousers with a bit of a green striped waistcoat peeking out from against a nicely starched white shirt. His face was clean-shaven, and his wavy brown hair was cut close and combed back under his hat.

  He allowed her scrutiny for a moment. “I hope I pass inspection.”

  Cassie was slightly embarrassed but made the best of it. “I believe for a rescuer, you cut a fine figure.”

  He smiled and tipped his hat in her direction. “And for a damsel in distress, you could not play the role any better.”

  Giving him a curtsy, Cassie laughed. “I guess we now know that we’re both hopelessly silly.”

  “If we remain in the street much longer, the entire neighborhood will know that much. Now come here, Miss Stover, and meet Portland. You truly have nothing to fear.”

  Mark led the mount to the Jameston drive and waited for Cassi
e to react. She watched him for a moment, shuddered, and then pushed away from the tree.

  I might as well get it over with, she thought. He isn’t going to forget this nonsense. She walked very slowly toward the man and his horse.

  “What was that?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Sounded like something,” he teased. “I thought perhaps you were issuing a prayer.”

  “I should,” she agreed, stopping within a foot of the man. “I hardly believe this is necessary.”

  hardly believe this is necessary.”

  “Of course it is. Now give me your hand.”

  Cassie frowned and pulled her gloved hands together. Why?”

  Mark laughed. “So that you can pet Portland.”

  She looked at the horse. He seemed to tower over her. “I think not. He might decide he’s hungry instead.”

  With lightning-fast reflexes, Mark reached out and locked a hold on her wrist. “Stop being so ridiculous. Here, see for yourself. He’s not going to eat you.”

  Cassie closed her eyes, and Mark pulled her hand to the horse’s neck. She felt the firm-muscled animal beneath her hand and trembled.

  “He really won’t hurt you,” Mark whispered against her ear.

  Shivering all the more, Cassie’s eyes flew open. She was speechless as Mark maneuvered her hand to stroke the animal’s mane. She wasn’t exactly sure whose nearness was most disturbing—Mark’s or the horse’s.

  “See now? He’s perfectly calm. He likes you.”

  “I’m sorry that I cannot return the feelings,” Cassie barely managed to say.

  “You need to overcome your fear so that things like this won’t happen in the future.”

  Cassie knew he was probably right, but at the moment she couldn’t think clearly. A part of her longed to flee the presence of this intimidating beast, while an equally encouraging part wanted to remain and enjoy the company of this dashing young man.

  Mark finally released his hold on her, and Cassie reluctantly stepped away. Portland turned to nuzzle her, causing Cassie to jump.

  “I thought you said he wouldn’t eat me!” she said, closing her eyes tight.

  Mark watched the young woman with amazement. She was truly terrified of Portland. He’d never seen such a fear of horses prior to this.

  "He won't eat you. He's trying to see if you have a treat for him. Here." Mark reached into his pocket for a lump of sugar. "I shouldn't spoil him so, but give him this."

  Cassie looked at him hard. “And how do you propose I do that?”

  “Hold out your hand.” She did so and Mark placed the sugar on her gloved palm. “Now feed it to him.”

  “You can’t be serious. Look at the size of his mouth—his teeth. He could bite off my hand in one move.”

  “But he won’t,” Mark said with a grin. “Just open your hand flat and lift it to him. I promise he will not amputate any part of you.”

  Cassie did as she was told and nearly shrieked when Portland gobbled up the offering. He pushed against her for more, but Mark took charge.

  “That’s enough, you greedy old man.” He turned to Cassie. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Compared to battling lions in Africa, I suppose it was quite simple,” she answered.

  Mark couldn’t help but laugh. “And what would you know of battling lions in Africa?”

  “Only that it would terrify me and leave me without hope of survival. Come to think of it—that’s exactly how I feel about your horse.”

  Mark took her by the arm. “Come. Why don’t you let me escort you to the door? Just in case a lion . . . or another horse . . . jumps out.”

  She giggled and lowered her head as if embarrassed once again. “I suppose it would be the safe thing to do. But I’d rather you leave . . . him.” She motioned with her head toward Portland.

  Mark nodded and dropped his hold on her. He quickly tied Portland to the iron gate and walked casually at Cassie’s side. “So, you said that you had no liking of Mrs. Jameston’s son.”

  “No one but the cook does, as far as I can tell. Apparently, the man is quite exasperating.” man is quite exasperating.”

  “In what way?”

  Cassie shrugged. “In most, I suppose. Even his friends have a tendency to shoot him—or so it would seem.”

  “What do you mean?” Mark looked at her and was surprised to find her watching him.

  “Well, apparently there was some sort of play between him and his ruffian friend. A gun went off and the bullet went through Mr. Jameston’s thigh. It appears to be a very invasive wound, but he’s on the mend, according to his companion, Mr. McLaughlin.”

  “But what does the doctor say?”

  “Oh, he won’t allow for one. Said his friend was perfectly capable of treating the injury. He said it was just an accident amongst friends, but frankly, I think someone’s temptation got out of hand.”

  Mark nodded. “There are folks who incite that kind of thing.”

  “He was the reason I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. He had yelled at his mother and upset her just before I came out here for a walk. Mrs. Jameston is a wonderful woman whose gentle nature compels me to feel overly protective of her, I suppose. I’m afraid I was thinking ill thoughts as I stormed from the house. It serves me right to find myself in peril.” They had reached the front steps, and Cassie turned and gave him a smile. “Thank you again for saving me, fair knight.”

  He bowed. “I like rescuing damsels in distress. In fact, if you have no qualms about it, I would like to stop by tomorrow morning and inquire after your health. You might yet find yourself injured, and I would want to take responsibility for any cost you might endure.”

  She laughed. “Feel free to stop by, but I assure you I am fine.”

  He watched her walk up the steps and pause at the door. Something about her made him feel rather breathless. Her delicate features glowed when she smiled, and her dark brown eyes seemed to twinkle with delight or amusement.

  He stood there for a moment, even after she’d closed the door. Mark couldn’t help but wonder about the woman. She certainly had no lost love for Sebastian Jameston, and that might well work in Mark’s favor. At this point he had plans to see her in the morning. That would at least get him inside the house.

  Walking over to where Portland stood, Mark couldn’t help but glance back at the house. A figure looked down at him from the second-story window at the far end. Was this Jameston? Mark felt his pulse quicken. He pretended not to notice the man as he mounted his horse.

  Directing the animal down the street, Mark began to speculate. Sebastian Jameston was injured. Shot in the leg. The timing was right, and Mark couldn’t help but suspect that he’d been wounded in the fight with Richard. The police had stated that Richard managed to fire his own weapon before dying.

  “This just adds to the clues,” he said aloud. Sebastian had no doubt been the one to kill Richard. “But how do I prove it?”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning Mark knocked on the Jameston door and waited with a sense of excitement for the meeting to unfold. He had considered this moment throughout the night. Not only did he enjoy Cassie’s company, but he was hopeful to catch a glimpse of Mr. Jameston. This would give him an added advantage. He would have the ability to survey Jameston’s domain, perhaps even get a chance to meet the man himself. Surely under such circumstances Jameston would never suspect that Mark’s presence had anything to do with investigating Richard’s death and the fraudulent insurance claims.

  A stately older man opened the door. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning.” He handed the man his card. “I am Marcus Langford. Miss Stover is expecting me.”

  “Very good, sir. Please come this way.”

  Mark followed the man into the foyer, where the butler took his hat and gloves. “The ladies are awaiting you in here,” the man said, leading the way to an open door.

 
“Thank you.” Mark waited until the man announced him.

  “Mr. Marcus Langford has arrived.”

  Cassie got to her feet, but the older woman remained seated. “Mrs. Jameston, this is the man who saved my life yesterday. Mr. Langford, this is my employer and dear friend, Mrs. Jameston.”

  Mark bowed in greeting and Mrs. Jameston smiled and nodded. “We are quite grateful to you, young man. Cassie has become invaluable to me, and I would truly have hated for anything to cause her harm.”

  Smiling, Mark caught Cassie’s gaze. “I was glad to render service.”

  “Please be seated,” Mrs. Jameston instructed. Cassie returned to the red fan-backed chair beside the older woman and smoothed out her dark green skirt.

  “Thank you for allowing me to visit. I had worried that Miss Stover might have found injuries after further investigation.”

  “I’m happy to say there are none, with exception to a little soreness in my . . . on my . . .” Cassie blushed and muttered, “A little soreness.”

  Mark suppressed a laugh and caught Mrs. Jameston’s amused expression. Clearly the older woman wasn’t without a sense of humor.

  “Tell us about yourself, Mr. Langford. I know little outside of the fact that you rescued Cassie and ride a massive red beast that all but spits fire.”

  Mark did laugh out loud at this. “I would never want to contradict a lady’s recollection, but I assure you my mount is completely passive. As for me, I hail from Boston.”

  “Another city of liberty,” Mrs. Jameston commented. “I have been there several times. I found it quite enjoyable. What brings you here?”

  “Business. I’m here for a time on business.”

  “I see. Well, what is your line of business? What does your father do?”

  Mark was glad for the second question. He hadn’t really considered how he might reference his own line of work. Of course, he did dabble in investments. It was more of a hobby than anything. Then, too, he owned a part of his father’s hotel business.