by Lori Wick
Cassandra only grinned. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’m in love.”
The women got down to some serious shopping as soon as the coach arrived in town. They started in Benwick’s and began on Anne’s baby list. As though shopping for their own child, they delighted over some of the things they found and even added purchases Anne hadn’t listed.
They were in the midst of this endeavor when Harriet Thorpe came down the aisle toward them, an odd look on her face.
“Well, Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy began. “How are you?”
“I’m very well, Lizzy,” she said softly, her gaze straying to Cassandra. “I heard your voices and assumed your sister had arrived. Am I correct?”
“Indeed, you are. Mrs Thorpe, please meet Cassandra, the youngest of the Steele clan.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cassandra.”
“How do you do, Mrs Thorpe?”
“I’m well, thank you. Did you have a good trip?”
“It was very nice.” Cassandra dimpled at her. “Almost as nice as coming home.”
Harriet Thorpe smiled. I like her. I like her very much, and I think she’s just who I need right now.
“You’re going to find me absurd, Cassandra, but I actually have a favor to ask of you.”
“All right,” Cassandra said willingly, knowing that hearing her out wouldn’t mean she had to agree.
“Could I possibly impose upon your time to explain in, say, an hour?”
“That would be fine. Where would you like to meet?”
“Gray’s?”
“Gray’s it is. I shall be there.”
Harriet smiled at both younger women, bid them good shopping, and moved on her way. Lizzy looked at her sister.
“Cassie dear, I do believe I’ve been bored without you here and didn’t even know it.”
This sent Cassandra into gales of laughter that she was forced to stifle or be guilty of making a scene in the store.
Both women worked to control themselves and get back to the task at hand, Cassandra with a reminder to herself that she had to be at Gray’s in an hour.
Brown Manor
“Oh, it’s all so lovely,” Anne exclaimed as Lizzy and Cassandra held up each tiny item. The bed was strewn with small caps and buntings, blankets and soft fabric for nappies and bath times.
“We got a bit of everything in all colors, even though we both think you’ll have a boy.”
“Is this based on science, or are you prescient?” Anne wished to know.
“Well, I hadn’t seen you yet, so I guess that makes me prescient,” Cassandra decided, but Lizzy had to admit to opinion only.
“We can’t stay, Anne,” Lizzy told her after a very short time. “We would love to, but we mustn’t tax your strength at all.”
“I understand. Judith was here this morning and said the same thing. Do tell me you’ll come back, however.”
“We certainly will.”
The Steele women did a swift cleanup job, embraced Anne before they exited, and met Weston in the hall.
“I could tell she was pleased,” he said without hesitation. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s our pleasure, Weston. Just send word if we can do anything else.”
“We will probably be fine, but I won’t forget your offer.”
Weston saw them down to their coach and waved as the horses pulled away. Lizzy turned to her sister the moment the coach was in motion and stared for several seconds.
“Tell me again what Mrs Thorpe asked you to do.”
Cassandra laughed and willingly obliged, causing Lizzy to shake her head in wonder all over again.
Pembroke
It couldn’t have been more perfect. Harriet had all she could do not to dance when she realized that Tate had gone back to sit in the library just before Cassandra arrived on Saturday afternoon.
“Is this a good time?” Cassandra asked.
“This is perfect. I’ll just bring you into the room and let you take it from there.”
Cassandra smiled at the delight in the other woman’s eyes, trusting her to know what was best for her nephew.
“Tate,” Harriet began as she stepped into the library, “you have a visitor.”
“A visitor?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Tate listened as his aunt walked from the room. The moment her footsteps died away, a woman’s husky voice spoke.
“Hello, Mr Tate. I’m Cassandra. Your aunt asked me to come and read to you.”
“Did she now?” he asked with a bit of humor in his voice, needing no time to catch on.
“Yes. Is there something in particular you’d like me to read?”
“Why, thank you for asking. Why don’t we start with this book right here?”
“Very well.”
Tate felt the book leave his hand, not entirely certain his aunt hadn’t tiptoed back to watch. If she had, she’d know soon enough that he was about to turn the joke back to her.
It was with a great deal of admiration and some chagrin that he heard this Cassandra woman begin reading to him in perfectly accented French. Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, as she stopped after just a few paragraphs.
“Is this where you were in the story, Mr Tate? I found a slip of paper and assumed.”
Willing to listen for a time, and hoping that his aunt was in fact nearby, he responded, “That’s fine.”
Cassandra didn’t know if Mrs Thorpe had remained in the vicinity or not. She had been given instructions and was just doing as she was told. She was to stay for less than an hour and to leave sooner if she was asked.
“Excuse me,” Tate cut in after only five pages. “Would you mind terribly if we changed books?”
“Not at all.”
Tate had all he could do not to snap his fingers in defeat when her Italian was as well versed as her French. He would never have dreamed he would need more languages, or he’d have put Hastings to work.
And then to his surprise, somewhere in the story, the joke faded away. Tate found himself relaxing, his mind willingly following the plot and her deep, soothing voice. She corrected a few of her pronunciations from time to time, but it wasn’t distracting in the least. Tate was nothing short of amazed when she stopped and closed the book.
“Well, Mr Tate. We made it through the first four chapters, but now I must be off.”
“Thank you,” Tate said automatically, realizing she was moving out of the room before he could frame any more of a reply. Not long after, he heard a door close and knew she had gone. He wasted no time coming to his feet. He found the door out of the library and hollered like a fishwife.
“Harriet Thorpe, where are you? Harriet Thorpe, you come here this instant!”
Her laughter gave her away as she came from the foyer, so satisfied with herself that she danced a little jig.
“Come here,” Tate commanded, holding his arms out to hug her.
Harriet went into his embrace and hugged him right back, both of them laughing until they felt weak.
Still holding his aunt close, Tate’s voice became serious. “Have I told you how much I appreciate all you’ve done?”
“I think you just did.”
Tate found her forehead and kissed it. Harriet, still very pleased with herself, told him that tea would be in an hour and that she was going to change.
Tate sat in his bedroom on Sunday morning—although the whole house was quiet—to pray and think on the Word. He had been studying the life of Moses when the accident occurred, and he worked every day to recall what he’d learned about that man and God’s work in his life, asking Hastings or his aunt to read to him about things he couldn’t remember.
This morning, however, he just wished to pray. Prayer had become an integral part of his life since the accident. He’d always wanted to be stronger in that area, and having been plunged into darkness had certainly accomplished that.
Please bless Pastor Hurst and all those listening to him toda
y. Prepare hearts and change lives, Lord. Thank You that Harriet could meet with the church family this morning. Thank You for her love for You. Bless her, Lord. Help her ears to be open to Your Word this morning and to listen keenly for things she needs to learn. And please help her, Lord, to be aware of others around her.
Tate stopped. This was not so much a prayer request for his aunt but one that he would be praying for himself should he ever see again. He had not been an uncaring man, just a busy one.
“Of course,” he said quietly in his room, “that’s probably the same thing.”
Tate spent the next two hours in his room. At times his heart was quiet, just thinking about the great God who loved him. At other moments, he lifted up all he could think of, friends and family alike, asking God to protect and save.
Not until it was almost time for Harriet to return did Tate remember Cassandra. She had such a nice voice—deep and soothing. He wondered if she was going to come again.
“I’m fascinated with Jonah,” Pastor Hurst admitted during his sermon. “I think I would choose to do better. I think in the same situation I would act differently, but then something comes up in my life that reminds me I am not thinking as God thinks, and I have to suspect that I would have done no better than Jonah.
“He’s doing the right thing one minute and completely rebelling the next. Can you imagine being one of the sailors on that ship? They begged God not to hold them accountable for the murder of Jonah, but what else could they do but throw him overboard? The ship was being torn to pieces. Murder or not, they had to try it or all drown.
“Rebelling against God is exhausting work. The sea and wind are about to break this ship to pieces, but Jonah is sleeping somewhere below deck. I personally would be so seasick that I would wish for death, but he’s run from God and is now worn out.
“Do you ever run from God? I don’t mean literally, although that might be the case. I’m talking about the times you ignore what you’re supposed to do. That’s a form of running from God. How about the sin you know it’s time to give up? Guarding that sin and pretending you’re not is running from God.
“But as we talked about last week, in God there is always hope. Even when we run, God is planning for our return. Even Jonah understood this. He’s been cast into the sea and swallowed whole, but look at what he says in chapter 2, verse 4. ‘I am cast out of thy sight; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.’ Verse 7 goes on to say, ‘When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple.’
“Hope, my friends. It’s a precious thing. The hope we can have in our saving God is huge. There is no sin that He can’t forgive. There is no need that He can’t supply. Even if you’ve run. Even if you’re running right now. Our saving God is waiting for you to turn to Him.”
Cassandra felt tears in her eyes. She hadn’t run from God in sin, but she’d been gone so long. She had let Emma talk her into staying away much longer than she had wished. It was simply wonderful to be back with Henry and Lizzy in her home church.
The sermon ended a short time later. Cassandra always managed to miss notes, but she still sang out with all her heart, giving praise to the God who had brought her to this place.
When they exited the church, Henry ended up beside her in the aisle. She turned to him, her eyes still a bit wet, and waited for him to look down.
“It’s definitely official, Henry. I’m home.”
Henry smiled his kind smile, the one he usually had for her, the one that didn’t need words.
“How is Anne today, Weston?” Lydia Palmer asked, snagging Weston as he walked from church.
“She’s doing well but wishing she could be here.”
“I can well imagine. Please tell her that I’m going to visit this week. Is any day not good for you?”
“Judith is coming Tuesday. Will another day work?”
“Yes, I’ll come Thursday. Send word if that isn’t convenient. Is morning or afternoon best?”
“She tends to sleep off and on. Come whenever you like.”
“All right. I have something for the baby that I was going to give to her later, but perhaps it will cheer her up.”
Weston smiled. “Thank you, Lydia. I know she’ll appreciate your visit.”
Lydia had no more than finished when several other people stopped to ask after Anne. That she was loved by the church family was more than evident. Weston smiled as he rode home, knowing such a report would do her heart a world of good.
Pembroke
“I have new notes for you.”
“More on Jonah?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to hearing them.”
“And Anne Weston has been put on bed rest,” Harriet said. Home from church and sitting down to lunch, she was filling Tate in on all the news. “I don’t think you’ve met the Westons, but things have suddenly gotten a bit rocky with Anne’s first pregnancy.”
“Is Weston’s first name Robert?”
“I believe it is, yes.”
“I think I know him from London.”
“Now that you mention it,” Harriet’s brow creased with thought, “I think he said that very thing to me when we met.”
“I didn’t know he had married.”
“I believe it’s recent—just last year.”
Tate brought his glass to his lips, having become practiced with the effort, and took a drink. When he set his glass back down, careful to miss the edge of his plate, he had a question for his aunt. This time there was no joke in his mind.
“Is Cassandra coming back tomorrow?”
“Coming back?”
“Yes, to read to me.”
In her surprise, Harriet took a moment to say, “I didn’t know you wanted her to.”
“I thought that might be the plan.”
“Not exactly, Tate,” Harriet began, her mind scrambling with how to explain. “You seemed to be getting down, Tate. I began to worry. I even talked to Dr Tilney about having someone come in each day and read to you.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said if we could find the right person, one who wouldn’t overtax you, then it might be helpful. But then you played that joke on me, and I decided to tease you back, thinking you didn’t really need a daily diversion after all.”
“That all makes perfect sense, but I ended up enjoying Cassandra’s reading, Aunt Harriet. I wish her to come back.”
“And what of your rest?”
“She’s very restful. When I got over the joke, I simply listened to her read and found it most soothing.”
Harriet was stunned. Her silence told Tate as much, but he was quite serious.
“Will you ask her, or should I dictate a note to Hastings?”
“I’ll certainly ask her for you, but I don’t know what she’ll say.”
“Well, that’s up to her,” Tate responded pragmatically. “At least you’ll be able to say you tried.”
Still a little shocked by this turn of events, Harriet was quiet for a time, but then she remembered how much she liked Cassandra Steele and how willing the young woman had been to help out and go along with the joke.
Maybe she’s what we all need right now, Lord. I asked You to help me know, and Tate is now requesting her return. I don’t think You can make it any clearer than that.
Newcomb Park
“Why, Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy said with pleasure on seeing her. “Please come in.”
“I’m sorry to come unannounced, Elizabeth. It’s most rude of me.”
“Not at all. Cassie and I were about to enjoy a midmorning cup of tea. Can you join us?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you. Hello, Cassandra.”
“Hello, Mrs Thorpe,” the younger Steele sister greeted her as she entered the room. “Are you joining us for tea?”
“Your sister just invited me, yes.”
“I’m glad. You can tell us how your joke worked.”
&nbs
p; “A little too well,” Mrs Thorpe said with a laugh while the three made themselves comfortable. “Mr Tate wants you to come back.”
The looks on Cassandra’s and Lizzy’s faces were comical. Harriet laughed a little and waited while they exchanged a look.
“Do tell, Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy put in. “We beg of you.”
Harriet gave them every detail, and they laughed at how well she pulled it off.
“But then,” she went on, “Tate asked in complete seriousness if Cassandra was going to keep coming. I worried that it might be too much for him, but he said he found it very soothing.” The older woman shrugged, looking as helpless as she felt. “I told him I would ask.”
“Well, of course I will, Mrs Thorpe. I don’t think I can come every day, but I would be happy to help in any way possible.”
Harriet stared at her, gratitude in every line of her being. “I liked you the moment I met you, Cassandra Steele. I can’t thank you enough for this. Tate has done remarkably well, but it will be weeks before the doctor allows the patches off. I fear he feels completely cut off from everything.”
“He was very kind,” Cassandra said, thinking back. “I could tell he was amused, but he handled himself very well. Not an easy task when you can’t see.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Certainly. Is tomorrow soon enough to start?”
“Tomorrow is wonderful.”
The Steele sisters smiled at her. Harriet had done nothing to disguise the relief in her voice, and both Lizzy and Cassandra found this highly amusing.
The three of them enjoyed a cup of tea together and talked about the different people they knew in common. Before Harriet left, however, she made sure that Cassandra understood what she’d first told her about Tate’s need for rest.
“He’s been very careful, but should you ever sense that Tate has overtaxed himself with your presence, err to the side of caution and leave.”
“I’ll plan on that.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Cassandra.”
The youngest Steele smiled sweetly, not needing to be thanked again.