A Lady of Secret Devotion

by Tracie Peterson

  “Dr. Riley,” Cassie stated breathlessly.

  “Miss Stover. I hear our patient has taken a bad turn.”

  “Yes. I’m so glad you could come. I’ll take you right upstairs to her.” She paused only a moment to meet Brumley’s sober expression. “Thank you so much, Mr. Brumley.”

  He nodded solemnly before turning to go. Cassie hurried to the stairs. “Mrs. Jameston had a spell this morning, about an hour and a half past. She was at the carriage house and fainted dead away.”

  They climbed the stairs together as Cassie continued to explain. “Her son had demanded she go with him to town. We told him she was not up to the trip, but he insisted.”

  “I’ve always known Sebastian Jameston to be a selfish man, but this truly surpasses my expectations of him,” Dr. Riley said in a gruff manner. “I may need to have a discussion with him after I see Mrs. Jameston.”

  “I think that would be very helpful. Perhaps he’s thought us all rather silly, suggesting Mrs. Jameston remain in bed. If it comes from her doctor, surely he will listen.”

  They reached Mrs. Jameston’s bedroom and found her in bed with Ada at her side. Mrs. Dixon hovered nearby, as if uncertain how to best help.

  “I see you have given us all a scare, Mrs. Jameston,” Dr.

  Riley said as he came to her bedside.

  “Oh, this is just stuff and nonsense. I suppose I overdid things a bit.”

  “If you were preparing to go into town, then I can guarantee that you were overdoing things by quite a lot.” He began his examination by questioning her. “Do you have pain?”

  “Some,” she admitted. “My stomach mostly, and my head. It grieves me at times.”

  The doctor looked into her eyes, then listened to her heart. He continued to ask her a bevy of questions while Cassie paced the rug at the foot of the bed.

  “Mrs. Jameston, I cannot say for certain what ails you. You may well have an ulcerated stomach, but I cannot be sure at this point. I want you to eat only the mildest of foods for at least a week.” He turned to Cassie. “See that she has nothing stronger than mild broth or simple soup, and diluted oatmeal. If she seems to be hungry for something more, then a bit of milk toast would be acceptable, but only in a small portion.”

  Cassie nodded. “We’ll see to it.”

  “I hate to be such a bother,” Mrs. Jameston declared. She grimaced, and Cassie knew she was in pain.

  “Is there anything we can give her for the pain?”

  “I have a small bottle here that might help.” He popped the cork and poured a small amount. “It’s a mixture I’ve created myself. It’s potent, however, and should be given in very small doses. No more than a spoonful every six hours.” He gave Mrs. Jameston the liquid then passed the medicine to Cassie. “It should help with her pain, but it will make her sleep more.”

  Cassie handed the bottle to Ada. “Since you’ll be caring for her during the day, you should keep this.”

  Ada tucked the bottle into her apron pocket. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

  “I’ll let Silas know what to prepare,” Mrs. Dixon announced as she followed the doctor to the door.

  Ada and Cassie crossed the room to join the others in the hall. Even Miriam and Essie had come to hear the news. Dr.

  Riley looked quite grave as he spoke in a hushed tone.

  “I do not know why she remains so sick. She was the picture of health only a few months ago, and while she is advanced in years, there is no reason for this onset of symptoms. I will speak with my colleagues and see if they might offer some thought on the matter. In the meanwhile, give her the medicine and keep her in bed. I will come back tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see the doctor out,” Mrs. Dixon offered. “I’m heading to the kitchen anyway.”

  Cassie waited until the others were gone before pulling Ada to her room. Closing the door, Cassie threw a side glance at the open adjoining door. She went to close it quietly before speaking.

  “Ada, I do not know what is happening here, but I fear for Mrs. Jameston’s life. Her son made grave threats yesterday, and I think he means her harm.”

  “Do you believe he’s made her ill?” Ada asked in disbelief.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me, though the doctor has not said such a thing. Still, Sebastian holds such contempt for her. He has continuously implied that he’s just waiting for her to die.”

  Cassie wanted to say more—to let Ada know about Mark’s investigation—but she supposed it only fair to speak to Mark about the matter first.

  “Ada, I think we need to make sure Mrs. Jameston is never alone. During the day, I want you to lock her bedroom door— and mine—when you sit with her. I will do the same at night.

  We should let the other ladies know to do the same. If we all take turns sitting with Mrs. Jameston, her son won’t be able to do her harm. At least, I hope he might not be able to.”

  The maid nodded. “I know we will all do our part. Mrs. Jameston has been so very good to us. No one here would want to lose her.”

  “No one, save her son.”

  Later that night, Cassie sat beside Mrs. Jameston and attempted to spoon-feed her some soup. Having known her mother to make a wonderful healing concoction that never failed to rally the sick, Cassie had sent Wills to request that her mother make a batch. He had come back an hour later with the mixture fresh from the fire and the promise that her mother would deliver an additional batch on the morrow.

  “I have no appetite for soup or anything else,” Mrs. Jameston said apologetically. “I suppose the end of my time has come.”

  “Nonsense. Do not speak of such things. The doctor said there was really no reason for you to be ill. He was quite baffled, but he believes if you do as you are told, you will make a full recovery.”

  “But in time, I will die,” Mrs. Jameston declared in a barely audible voice. “I am not afraid of that fact, and neither should you fear for me.”

  Cassie put the soup aside. “I’m not afraid. I simply do not believe it’s your time.”

  Mrs. Jameston smiled and closed her eyes. “Only the good Lord knows that day and hour, I’m sure. Still, there is a weariness to my soul and body that I cannot deny. I fear leaving my staff to fend for themselves. I need to arrange something in my will to see to their needs.”

  “Then you must remain strong and get well,” Cassie said.

  “Now why don’t you try to sleep? The medicine is obviously working, and you should rest. I will leave our adjoining door open. You have only to call for me or to ring this bell,” she said, putting the bell in Mrs. Jameston’s hand. “I will come to you immediately.”

  The night air was heavy and hot, but Mrs. Jameston had requested a fire be built in her hearth. Cassie thought the added heat quite oppressive but knew that it benefited the older woman and said nothing.

  Getting to her feet, Cassie felt compelled to kiss Mrs.

  Jameston on the forehead. She bent and did so as a dutiful granddaughter might do. The older woman’s eyes opened for a moment, and she smiled.

  “Thank you. I’ve not had such tenderness from anyone since my beloved Worther was alive. I cherish you, Cassie. You are like a daughter to me. I have grown to love you dearly.”

  “As have I you, Mrs. Jameston,” Cassie admitted. “You are family to me, as certainly as my mother and sister.”

  She left the woman smiling. Cassie felt she had done very little for Mrs. Jameston, yet she knew that this last offering had been more precious than anything else she might have given. The woman was starved for love, and no wonder. Her own son—the only child still living—would give nothing of himself to his mother. He couldn’t forgive his mother’s mistakes and had made it his ambition to see her paid back in kind. Of this, Cassie was certain. She supposed in Sebastian’s mind, it was somehow all very justified. His mother clearly admitted her wrongdoing—the ways she had failed him. But in turn, Sebastian refused forgiveness in lieu of retribution.

  Ada came to help Cassie disrob
e for the night. Neither one spoke for some time, but when Ada reached for the brush and began to comb out Cassie’s long brown hair, the maid finally offered some news.

  “I have told the others of your concerns. We all agree that Mr. Jameston is not to be trusted. He has caused so many of us grief, as you well know. We will endeavor to do our best to keep him from Mrs. Jameston—even if we must defy him.”

  Cassie nodded and got to her feet. “It will most likely come to that. I do not see Sebastian Jameston giving us an easy time of it. I will also speak to Mark and see what help he might offer.”

  Ada put the brush down and took the bottle of medicine from her pocket. “I’ll leave this with you. She might have need of it in the night.”

  “I’ll lock the doors when you leave,” Cassie said as she took the bottle. “If you need me, knock three times on my door, then pause and knock three more.”

  “I will come and relieve you in the morning.”

  Cassie went to the door with Ada and waited until the maid was down the hall and headed for the servants’ stairs before retiring to her room. She locked the door, grateful for the latches that secured the door at the top and bottom. She slid the bars into place, feeling confident that it would be difficult to break down such a door.

  She knelt by the bed and murmured her prayers before blowing out the lamp. Her room felt much too warm for covers, so she merely stretched out on top and tried to relax. Sweat trickled down her forehead and neck, making Cassie miserable.

  She promised herself a tepid bath in the morning, but it did little to comfort her at the moment.

  Little by little, however, exhaustion claimed her, and Cassie felt herself slipping away. She found Mark’s image before her as a dreamlike state took over. She reached out for him, but he only laughed and stepped away. Pressing toward him, Cassie soon found herself running.

  The dream faded and Cassie awoke suddenly. She couldn’t have been asleep for long. She tiptoed to Mrs. Jameston’s room and found the woman sleeping peacefully. The fire had died out, so the room was somewhat cooler. Cassie thought about stoking the embers, then decided against it.

  She heard the doorknob rattle on Mrs. Jameston’s door and froze in place. Ada had not given their agreed-upon knock, so it couldn’t be her. Cassie felt her breathing quicken as the door was tried again.

  Without seeing him, Cassie felt certain that Sebastian was on the other side of the door. Her fear mounted with every passing moment. Backing away, she edged toward her room when the doorknob went still. She was just starting to breathe normally when she heard the same attempt on her own bedroom door.

  Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Cassie prayed that the door would hold. She prayed that God would intercede on her behalf and on the behalf of her employer. God was their only hope, Cassie knew. For only God could battle evil and win.

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. Miss Stover was proving to be more difficult and cunning than he had planned. He headed back to his room, only to be intercepted by Silas.

  “Are you quite all right, young master?” the older man asked.

  “As well as can be expected. What has you prowling about at this late hour?”

  Silas smiled and held out a plate of cookies. “I heard you return and thought you might need a snack. You’ve put in far too many late nights, Sebbie.”

  He smiled at the man’s kindness and took the plate. “I have indeed, but soon that will be behind me. You were good to think of me.”

  The man seemed pleased at Sebastian’s praise. “If you should need anything more substantial, I could open the kitchen.”

  “No. I’m perfectly fine. I will make my way to bed shortly.” He glanced back down the hall. “How did my mother fare today?”

  “I hardly know. Miss Stover decided against serving her anything from my kitchen,” Silas said in an obviously offended tone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had her mother create some kind of soup, I believe. She told me that the doctor insisted Mrs. Jameston eat nothing but the simplest of broths and that her mother had a special recipe to help with such matters.”

  “I’m sorry, Silas. I know that must have deeply grieved you. Especially given that you’ve cooked for Mother all these years.” Sebastian eyed the man sternly. “I suppose next thing you know, Miss Stover will try to take over your kitchen altogether. It seems to be her plan for this household.”

  Silas nodded. “I have wondered as much myself, Sebbie.”

  Sebastian reached out and patted the man’s shoulder. “You have been like a father to me. Better than my own, to be sure. I will not forget that point when I come into my inheritance.”

  “No one could see the good in you but my Jeannette and me. You have suffered much.”

  “Yes, but we all must suffer from time to time,” Sebastian said. “Now please get some sleep. Whether Mother will eat from your kitchen or not, I plan to, and to do so first thing. I have an important meeting in the morning.”

  “I will have your breakfast ready and waiting.”

  Sebastian slipped into his room without waiting to see whether Silas took himself upstairs to bed or back down to the kitchen. He put down the plate of cookies and shrugged out of his outer coat. Retrieving a map from behind his dresser, Sebastian spread it out on the table and picked up a cookie.

  The layout of the dock seemed simple enough. It was an area Sebastian wasn’t that familiar with, but he’d been assured it could provide a good source of income. The police force in this particular town would be quite open to bribes—perhaps even more so than he’d found to be the case in Philadelphia.

  “There is always someone of a corrupt nature who is willing to see things my way,” he said with a smile. “So long as the benefit exceeds the risk.”

  It was no different for him there at home. There were challenges to be had at every turn. Obstacles that threatened his livelihood and happiness. Still, he was willing to press forward and do whatever was necessary to have things his way. In the long run, it was a benefit he could not ignore—no matter the price.

  CHAPTER 17

  Mama!” Cassie declared in surprise. She had been so caught up in her care of Mrs. Jameston that she’d not even taken the opportunity to visit her family. It blessed Cassie more than she could say to see that her mother had taken the time to come to her.

  “I was worried about you,” her mother said. She gave her bonnet to Brumley, who waited in anticipation. “I’ve also brought some more soup.” She held up the basket.

  “Brumley, would you please retrieve Mother’s clean jars to take back with her?”

  “Certainly, miss.” Brumley seemed only too happy to be involved in anything that might aid and assist his infirmed employer.

  “How is Mrs. Jameston faring?” Mother asked.

  “Better. Your soup has definitely done the trick. She’s not only able to keep it down, but her stomach pains have subsided, as well as the headaches. I believe she is on the mend.”

  “That is good news. I’ll be sure and make some additional soup for her and bring it to church tomorrow. That way, you can take it home with you.”

  Cassie shook her head. “I doubt I’ll be there. I feel that I should be here for Mrs. Jameston.” Cassie glanced around to see if anyone could overhear their conversation. “Why don’t we step into the garden?”

  She headed through the French doors. “Mother, how did you know you were in love with Father?” Cassie asked, the words springing unexpectedly from her lips.

  Her mother smiled in surprise. “I just knew. Everything about him was exactly what I had hoped for in a husband. He was industrious and yet knew the importance of family. He always made me feel as if I were the most important person in his world. His thoughtfulness touched my heart. He never forgot my birthday or yours. No matter what else was happening, he would see to it that we celebrated the occasion.”

  “I remember,” Cassie said thoughtfully as they sat on the settee. “He was probably the
most considerate man I knew.”

  Her mother turned and raised a quizzical brow.“Why do you ask? Have things gotten serious with your Mr. Langford?”

  Cassie shook her head. She wasn’t sure what to make of their relationship. It had started out to be more of a business deal than anything. Still, she felt her mother might offer insight, so Cassie began to whisper the entire story to her.

  “I wanted to help. I suppose in part because Mr. Jameston caused me such grief and frustration. I’ve never met a man so cold and unfeeling. Mark assures me that once he is able to get proof that Mr. Jameston killed his friend, he’ll have the man arrested. I pray the truth is learned sooner than later, however. I fear for poor Mrs. Jameston.”

  “I thought things seemed a bit awkward. Still, I think you did the right thing, Cassie. I cannot imagine what a burden Mrs. Jameston has had to bear. What she must suffer.”

  “I worry that she won’t be safe here,” Cassie said. “I worry that Mr. Jameston will seek to do her harm.”

  “Have you told this to Mr. Langford?”

  “He’s not been around since the day he kissed me in the garden.” Cassie got up, wringing her hands. “Mama, I don’t know what to do. In the midst of all this intrigue, I’ve really begun to care for him.”

  Her mother offered a gentle smile. “He’s a good man. I sense a great deal of respect and quality in his character. I do not think he would want to lead you on in matters of the heart. Perhaps if you explained things to him, you might be able to come to some agreement.”

  “But what if that agreement is that my feelings are wrong and should be changed to fit our original purpose of merely pretending? I don’t know how I would be able to handle the situation if that was his comment.”

  “Cassie, no one can force another person to love them, but if this man has won your heart, he should know that you are no longer playing a game. To do otherwise would show you to be false with him.”

  “I know you’re right. I simply do not know how to tell him. I’ve had so much to occupy my mind with these past few days, yet his absence has been uppermost in my thoughts.”