The Visitor

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The Visitor Page 3

by Lori Wick


  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.”

  “Is my aunt nearby?” Tate asked, his voice dropping a bit.

  “No. Shall I find her?”

  “No,” Tate stopped him, barely hiding his smile. “I have something I wish for you to do.”

  Hastings had a smile of his own by the time Tate finished describing his scheme, and only just in time. Harriet came looking for Tate’s man a short while later with a question. When the three finally separated, Hastings and Tate for the haircut, and Aunt Harriet for town, Tate’s plan was in place.

  Tipton

  The entire family was gathered at the Palmer home for dinner. Palmer and Lydia’s brood of five were around the table, as were Jennings and Marianne’s four children. Mr and Mrs Walker—grandparents to the Jennings children—had also joined the party. Seven-month-old Catherine was on her grandfather’s knee, attempting to place the tablecloth in her mouth. Young Oliver Palmer, now nine months old, was in his sister’s lap, happy to smile at anyone who caught his eye. Conversation flowed freely, and it took a moment for Palmer to gather everyone’s attention so grace could be said.

  “I think we’ll pray now and get started, although it doesn’t seem as though anyone is lacking energy from not having eaten.”

  Those gathered about the table laughed at this light humor and then bowed their heads.

  “We have much to thank You for, heavenly Father. Thank You for the food, the hands that prepared it, and all who have gathered here. Help us to be wise and mindful of You as we enjoy this time. I ask these things in Christ’s holy name. Amen.”

  The conversation went back to full volume as food landed on every plate, and the feasting began.

  “What do you hear about Tate?” Lydia asked the table. “Any word on his sight?”

  “Harriet was over on Sunday,” Mr Walker answered. “She said he still needs to take it easy and keep his eyes covered.”

  “How long has it been now?” Marianne asked.

  “A while,” put in Lydia.

  “Since before Christmas,” added Mrs Walker.

  “Has it helped to be here in Collingbourne, taking things slower?” Jennings asked, having heard the reason for the move.

  “They won’t know for some time.”

  “He’s so shut off from everything. How is he handling it?”

  No one knew specific answers, so speculation abounded. Soon they moved on to the children’s schooling. The older children were asked to report on what they’d been learning, the adults questioning them at some length. By the time this was accomplished, the children were finished eating and were dismissed.

  The six adults enjoyed conversation of their own, and interestingly enough, the Hurst family came up. Palmer shocked everyone with his first statement.

  “I think Judith might be expecting.”

  “Who told you that?” his wife wished to know, her mouth opening in surprise.

  “No one. I just think it might be true.”

  There was no end of ribbing when he said this, and Palmer took it in stride. The group was right: He didn’t know for certain. Nevertheless, he was quite sure in his heart, and when the topic changed to a possible trip to London, he did nothing to dissuade it. He told himself that they would all know soon enough.

  Pembroke

  “Aunt Harriet, is that you?” Tate called from the library. It had taken two more days to execute his plan, but he was now situated casually in one of the deep chairs, a side table next to him.

  “Well, Tate,” his aunt said with pleasure, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in this room since we arrived.”

  Tate smiled to himself but said honestly, “I’d forgotten how good a library smells.”

  “It does at that,” Harriet agreed softly, her eyes caressing the beautiful book-lined shelves.

  “Are you in the mood to read for a time, Aunt Harriet?”

  “Why, Tate,” his aunt said with pleasure. “I’d love to read to you. What shall I read?”

  “Oh, anything will do.” His voice was a study in nonchalance. “I think there might be a book right here on the table.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Tate barely held his composure as Harriet took the book from his outstretched hand. He heard her settle in to read, turning the first few pages, but then everything stopped.

  “Oh, Tate, this book is in French. My French is terrible.”

  “Oh, all right. No problem. I think there’s another volume of some sort right here.”

  Tate took a second book from the table and held it out.

  “Wonderful,” Harriet said again, ready to do some serious reading this time, but again, all movement stopped.

  “Tate,” she said, her voice growing suspicious. “This book is written in Italian. I don’t know Italian.”

  “Don’t you?” he asked, as though this were breaking news.

  “Alexander Tate!” she explained sternly, even as laughter escaped. “Who helped you with this?”

  Tate’s head went back as he laughed, a full-bodied sound that Harriet hadn’t heard in far too long. She went over to hug him, and he squeezed her tightly, very pleased with the success of his joke.

  “You rascal!” she accused him, still laughing at his ploy. “Was Hastings in on this?”

  “Of course.”

  Harriet sighed before asking, “Would you like me to read to you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m happy just to sit here, but thank you.”

  “That was very naughty.”

  “Wasn’t it?” Tate agreed, doing nothing to hide his smile.

  Harriet began to rethink her plan. Maybe Tate didn’t need anything else right now. Then again…

  Tate was speaking to her, so Harriet attended as best she could, but her thoughts were running in a certain direction. It would be most intriguing to see what the future might bring.

  Newcomb Park

  “You’re pacing,” Henry said mildly, the second time he passed Lizzy in the large entryway. She turned to him, trying to look innocent but doing a dreadful job. Henry’s serious eyes caused her shoulders to droop.

  “I thought she would be here by now.”

  “As did I, but that doesn’t mean something is wrong.”

  “I wonder why I always assume it does.”

  Henry didn’t answer but did join her near the window, his own gaze going to the quiet driveway. He stood for several moments, his thoughts to himself, before touching Lizzy’s shoulder and moving on his way.

  Tempted as she was, Lizzy did not go back to pacing. Telling herself she would be too weary to enjoy Cassandra’s first day back if she didn’t settle down, she made herself stand still.

  “Lizzy,” Cassandra’s rather husky voice came to her in the night, and Lizzy wished it was more than a dream.

  “Wake up, Lizzy. I’m home.”

  “Cassie!” Lizzy gasped in surprise and delight
when she realized her younger sister was sitting on the side of her bed, shaking her awake.

  “It’s terribly late. We had one delay after another. But I wanted you to know that I’d made it.”

  Lizzy hugged her for all she was worth.

  “Are you all right?” Lizzy needed to know.

  “I’m fine, and I’m so glad to be home. We’ll have days to visit, but right now I’ve got to sleep.”

  Lizzy saw Cassandra to her room after she hugged Henry, who met them in the hallway, and then went back for her own sleep. She lay in the darkness a few moments, smiling up at the ceiling and thanking God for His protective hand that had brought her sister home.

  Brown Manor

  Anne did not know where her energy had gone. She had awakened that morning with such plans, but suddenly she had no will for any of them. Not even time in the garden sounded appealing.

  Weston had gone to his study to get some work done. Anne knew he liked to have quiet, but right now she felt a need to be near him. She made her way toward the stairs, planning to apologize for being such a baby, even knowing he would understand.

  Thankfully Weston had just left his desk to find Mansfield. He exited the study and saw his wife just as she reached the bottom of the stairs and collapsed into a small heap.

  Anne was in Weston’s arms just moments later, having missed his shouts for help and for a doctor, and when she awoke, his concerned face filled her gaze.

  “I fainted, didn’t I?”

  “The doctor’s on his way,” Weston told her, his voice breathless with fright.

  “Do you think I need a doctor?”

  “Well, even if you don’t, I do.”

  Anne smiled at his attempt to make her laugh, but she could see the distress in his gaze.

  “Maybe I’d best go to bed.”

  Weston lifted her without a word. Praying that he would accept whatever God had for them, he nonetheless asked his heavenly Father to spare his precious wife.

  Newcomb Park

  Heedless of their late night, Cassandra was at the breakfast table with Lizzy bright and early the next morning. Redheaded, brown-eyed, and covered with freckles, she was the baby of the family. Not that she acted as such, but the family did dote on her some.

  This morning, feeling as though she’d been gone for years instead of months, she was filled with questions for her sister. For Lizzy, Cassandra was so much herself, warm and caring, that it was as though she’d never left.

  “What do you hear from Morland and Edward, Lizzy?”

  “A letter from Edward last week.”

  “Nothing from Morland?”

  “No.”

  Cassandra stared at her.

  “I didn’t expect one, Cassie.”

  “Be that as it may, you were hoping.”

  Not having expected this, and not certain what to say, Lizzy stared rather helplessly at her.

  Cassandra looked slightly amused as she asked, “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

  “That’s precisely what I thought,” Lizzy confessed. “I didn’t think anyone knew. Did Charlotte tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t need to.”

  “Why didn’t she need to?”

  “Because I could see it in your eyes every time Morland was near you.”

  Lizzy felt slightly defeated. “Well, you must be the only one. Evidently Morland couldn’t see a thing.”

  “Of course not.” Cassandra’s tone was matter-of-fact. “He’s a man.”

  Laughter bubbled unexpectedly out of Lizzy’s throat. Her sister’s tone and expression were so utterly amusing that she couldn’t help herself.

  “Oh, there’s Henry,” Cassandra announced amid her sister’s laughter and before slipping out of her chair and meeting him at the edge of the room. “Are you riding tomorrow morning, Henry?”

  “Yes,” he answered with a note of hesitation.

  “May I accompany you?”

  “Must you?” he asked, not bothering to hide his longsuffering sigh.

  “Yes, but only if you don’t hate it. If you only dislike it, I’ll come. If you hate it, I won’t.”

  Henry couldn’t stop the smile that tugged up one corner of his mouth. There were few people who affected his heart more than his sister Cassandra.

  Shorter than his other two sisters, she looked quite a ways up at him, her pansy-brown eyes smiling, warm, and expectant.

  “I don’t hate it,” he was forced to admit.

  Cassandra’s smile went into full bloom.

  “What time shall I be ready?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  That matter settled, Cassandra declared that she had something in her room for both of them and sailed away to get it. Henry looked to Lizzy.

  “Isn’t it lovely that she’s home?” his sister asked.

  Henry couldn’t stop the smile that stretched his mouth, as he admitted, “Indeed it is, Lizzy.”

  Brown Manor

  “Oh, Lizzy,” Anne said the moment that woman appeared in the doorway to her bedroom. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I came as soon as I got word.” Lizzy moved close to the bed and took the prone woman’s hand. “How are you?”

  “Tired, all of a sudden. I don’t know what went wrong, but I actually fainted, and now there’s been some spotting. Dr Smith wants me to stay put until the baby comes.”

  “It’s sounds as though it’s for the best.”

  “I’m sure it is, but there was so much I wanted to get done.”

  Lizzy laughed a little.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “We are—women in general. We’re so busy planning, and usually with the best of intentions, but sometimes I think we get in God’s way.”

  Anne laughed too.

  “I’m not going to stay long and tire you out,” Lizzy continued, “but Cassandra and I are going into town tomorrow. What can we bring you?”

  “Cassandra’s home?”

  “Yes. She sends her love. Now, you’d best give me that list before someone comes along and shoos me out.”

  “You’re right! Let me think a moment,” Anne said, glad of the offer.

  Lizzy remained quiet until Anne began a list. Taking mental notes, Mrs Weston’s visitor waited only until she was done to give her a hug and then straighten to full height.

  “If you think of anything more, just send word. We’re not going before ten, and we shall simply stop on our way home. How does that sound?”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Wonderful?” Weston asked as he entered the room. “You must be speaking of me.”

  Both women laughed. Weston checked on his wife and then offered to see Lizzy out.

  Once on the drive, Lizzy asked directly, “Has she been told everything, Weston? Or is it graver than you’ve let on?”

  “No,” Weston shook his head firmly, “Dr Smith thinks she’s overdone. If she stays quiet, there is no reason why she shouldn’t deliver safely.”

  “Thank you for telling me. Anne’s given me a list for town in the morning, so I’ll be stopping again tomorrow when I’m finished.”

  “Thank you, Lizzy. You’re a good friend.”

  Lizzy only smiled and took the hand he offered to climb into the carriage. She prayed for her friend all the way home, thinking about how good her color and spirits had been. It was nice to arrive home and be able to give Cassandra such a good report.

  “What can we do to help?” her sister finally asked.

  Lizzy was pleased to relate that Anne had given her a list, and outside of that, she was in Weston’s and Dr Smith’s capable hands.

  Chapter Three

  Their breath fogged the morning air as they rode from the stables out across the fields. Henry’s mount was a larger animal but tame in his nature and steady in his gait. Cassandra’s horse tended to be more skittish, but she was easy to control and liked Cassandra’s light weight on her back.

  Cassandra knew that Henry didn’t care for superfl
uous conversation, so she kept her comments to a necessary minimum. She followed his lead, not wishing to interrupt his routine in any way, happy to do this until they came to the ridge. Not speaking or even expecting him to follow, Cassandra heeled Iris across the top of the ridge, giving her her head and hunching over the horse’s back as they flew through the early dew.

  Henry stayed with her, his own horse ready for the chase, until she pulled up and turned to him with a huge smile.

  “It’s official now, Henry,” she breathlessly exclaimed as she slapped Iris’ shoulder in reassurance, “I’m home.”

  Henry gave his lopsided grin. “Does it take riding the ridge to do that?”

  “Among other things,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll let you know as I go.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Henry teased, and then said not another word for the rest of their ride.

  “Do you have a list of your own, Lizzy, or are you browsing today?”

  “No, I have a list. Some of the crockery is beginning to wear, and I thought I might see what Benwick has.”

  “What’s on Anne’s list? Will Benwick have most of it?”

  “Yes, I’m certain. Do you have a list?”

  “A small one. My main concern is something for Henry’s birthday. I shopped all the time I was away but found nothing. If we’d come back to London as we talked about, I know I would have found something, but plans changed.”

  “Why was that, Cassie? I don’t think you said.”

  “Emma didn’t tell me when we left for her uncle’s that she was in an argument with her intended. She doesn’t think him attentive enough and hoped that by leaving Bath he would pine for her. That was utter nonsense of course, but as I said, I didn’t know about her plan until we were miles north.”

  “What does that have to do with London?”

  “Well, only that Emma was the one who did all the pining, so rather than go with the original plan of shopping in London before we parted company, she wanted to go directly back to Bath.”

  “And of course, you’ll never be that silly when you’re in love,” Lizzy teased her.

 

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