The Visitor

by Lori Wick

  “You must stop reading my mind!” Cassandra demanded, meaning it.

  Tate laughed, not able to help himself.

  “Trust me, Cassandra, there’s plenty I can’t read.”

  “What does that mean?” Her tears were now completely forgotten, the handkerchief balled in her hand.

  “Only that you’re not all that simple to figure out.”

  “What is it you wish to know?”

  Tate mentally stopped in his tracks and wisely said, “I think those questions might need to wait for another day.”

  Cassandra fell silent.

  “I was rude just now,” the redhead confessed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t find you rude at all.”

  Again Cassandra was quiet.

  “Do you feel like reading?”

  “I would be happy to read to you, but not if you would rather I leave.”

  “Why would I want that?”

  “Because I haven’t been restful for you. I would never forgive myself if I lost sight of that and hindered your healing.”

  “That’s very good of you, but I find that your presence alone is restful.”

  “Do you really, Mr Tate?” Cassandra asked in some amazement.

  “Yes, and don’t you think you know me well enough to drop the Mr from my name?”

  “I don’t know about that,” Cassandra told him. She never thought of him as Mr Tate. She mentally called him Alexander, but she was careful never to say it.

  “Well, you let me know when you do.”

  “All right. I’ll finish this article now.”

  Tate agreed with just a nod, thinking it wise not to say another word. He thought that if he couldn’t someday tell this woman that he loved her, he would slowly lose what was left of his mind.

  Newcomb Park

  Lizzy had no idea what she was doing in the garden, only that it had gotten to be something of a habit.

  “When you can’t help yourself, and Morland comes to mind,” she whispered the horrible routine to herself, “go to the garden. Make yourself pick flowers in an effort to dispel him from your mind.”

  Lizzy shook her head at the foolishness of it all and determined not to cry. No easy task with Charlotte and Barrington’s departure still so fresh in her mind.

  With a complete lack of interest, Lizzy chose another bloom, an ugly one in her estimation, and added it to the basket. Not until she shooed a fly away did she look up to see him standing some 20 yards off. The moment they had eye contact, he came forward.

  “Morland!” Lizzy said, her breath coming fast. “You’re back.”

  “Hello, Lizzy.”

  “Hello.” She worked to compose herself and think fast. “Is Edward with you?”

  “No, he decided to stay on.”

  “Are you back because someone is ill? Is your aunt well?”

  “She’s very well. I was ready to come home.”

  Morland stopped himself from smiling over how flustered she was. Seeing her with more knowledge gave new meaning to everything she did. The calm face she presented to him covered feelings he’d never read in her eyes before. The way she clasped her hands was not a sign of a quiet heart but an effort to stop their shaking.

  “Did you enjoy Africa?” she finally asked, nearly smiling in triumph that she came up with a question at all.

  “It was marvelous. I’ll look forward to telling you about it.”

  “Is Edward coming anytime soon?”

  “In another month to six weeks, I imagine.”

  “Where did you leave him?”

  “He’s with the Middletons.”

  Lizzy nodded. Her brother had written about that. She glanced around, her mind searching for something witty or even intelligent to say.

  “Have you seen Henry or Cassie?”

  “No, I wished to see you first. Jasper told me you were out here.”

  Lizzy didn’t know what to say to this, and Morland stopped fighting the smile that wanted to break through.

  “If memory serves me, Lizzy, you’re not overly fond of picking flowers and arranging them.” He paused, their eyes meeting and not looking away. “It causes a man to wonder what a woman might have on her mind.”

  Lizzy couldn’t say a word. Indeed, she could barely breathe.

  Morland stepped forward, picked a perfect rose on his way, and held it out to her.

  “Add this to the basket. It’s almost as lovely as you are.”

  Lizzy took it without a word and watched as Morland turned and walked toward the house. She waited, expecting to see his carriage exiting the drive, but that didn’t happen.

  “He’s inside!” It occurred to her very suddenly, causing her to almost dump her basket. Forcing herself to move slowly, to hold the basket still and not trip, Lizzy walked to the house, certain that her heart was going to beat through the wall of her chest.

  He’s back, she said to herself, wondering at this mixture of terror and excitement that filled her.

  For an instant she wondered if her brother might have spoken to him about her feelings but dismissed the idea almost immediately.

  Edward wouldn’t do that. I know he wouldn’t. Don’t read something into this, Lizzy, that’s simply not there.

  Knowing she wouldn’t take a word of her own advice, she finished the walk toward the house, willing herself to be as normal as she could be if they again came face-to-face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Henry listened with genuine interest as Morland described his trip with Edward, the sights they had seen and the people they’d met, but it didn’t leave his mind for a moment that this man was back in England for a specific reason.

  “Will you go back, do you think?” Henry asked after some time.

  “Someday, I hope, but not anytime soon.”

  “Why is that?”

  Morland smiled. In the past Henry always seemed to be distracted when they talked. Not today. Today he was taking in every word.

  “I have some unfinished business here, Henry. It involves your sister. Not until that is settled will I plan to go anywhere or do anything.”

  “Does Lizzy know that?”

  “No. I believed Edward when he told me of her feelings, but I guess I need to see it for myself, not to mention gain your approval.”

  “You have that, Morland. You always have.”

  “Thank you.”

  The men continued to discuss Africa, but now it was Morland’s turn to be distracted. Now knowing that Henry approved of his suit, he wanted to do little but see Lizzy. While still traveling it seemed that all he needed to do was return and everything would fall into place. Now he realized that getting close to the lady herself might not prove that easy.

  “Jasper just told me Morland is here!” Cassandra whispered furiously the moment she arrived back from Pembroke and found her sister in the library.

  “He’s in with Henry.” Lizzy sounded much calmer than she felt.

  “Did Edward come?”

  “No, he’s here alone.”

  Cassandra smiled a smug, complacent smile that caused Lizzy to shake her head.

  “Stop that this instant.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know what I’m speaking of. He’s come back to England for his own reasons; that’s all there is to it.”

  “You may believe that all you want, Lizzy, but I’m going to remind you on the day you become Mrs Thomas Morland that I knew the real reason.”

  “Don’t you have something to do right now?”

  Cassandra took a seat.

  “Not at all. I have all day to myself. In fact, I’m going to knock on Henry’s door very soon and make sure that Morland knows he’s invited to lunch.”

  “Don’t you do that, Cassandra Steele!”

  “Henry probably already has.”

  Lizzy couldn’t take her sister’s satisfied eyes. She positioned her book in front of her face to hide her anxiety. She lowered the book just a heartbeat later, knowing she ne
eded more of a distraction.

  “How did it go with Mr Tate today?”

  Cassandra rolled her eyes.

  “He could tell I’d been crying. I was so embarrassed. I think he reads my mind.”

  “Well, he’s had to. I think you must give off many unseen signals that Mr Tate has learned to read.”

  Cassandra gawked at her. “When did you come up with this?”

  “A long time ago. Picturing the two of you married has been an interesting pastime. If Tate doesn’t regain his eyesight, I don’t think you’ll miss it in the least.”

  “Why do you say that?” Cassandra asked, forgetting to be outraged that her sister had already figured them as a husband and wife.

  “Because your relationship has never included that. He’s always had to go beyond his sight to get to know you, and he’ll go on doing that.”

  Cassandra had to think on this. Her sister had a very good point, but she didn’t want to talk about Tate right now. She wanted to see Morland. Cassandra stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see Morland.”

  “Sit down,” Lizzy told her, but Cassandra only shook her head, looking like the older of the two.

  “Dear Lizzy. You wanted him here, but now you’re afraid to see him.”

  Not until the words were out of her mouth did Cassandra realize how closely they paralleled her own feelings for Tate. She left the library without another word and went to her brother’s study.

  Morland greeted her with a hug, and she learned in the first minute that she had been right. Henry had asked him to stay for lunch.

  Henry and Cassandra exited the carriage ahead of Lizzy. For this reason, she had no idea that Morland had come forward to give her a hand. Not until her hand was in his did she realize who it was.

  “Good morning, Lizzy,” he greeted her quietly in the church courtyard.

  “Good morning, Morland.”

  “Did you find any more flowers?” he asked, his eyes giving away a slight gleam of teasing.

  Lizzy smiled a little.

  “I believe Cassie chose a few more. I left it to her.”

  “Maybe the item that was on your mind is now settled?”

  Lizzy looked into his eyes but couldn’t answer. Her heart was too full of questions and a certain measure of panic.

  Morland did not torment her. He walked beside the family as they went into church, greeting those who welcomed him back and then taking a seat next to Henry. Lizzy, very aware of how close he’d sat, forced her attention on the service. Her thoughts strayed on occasion, but for the most part she listened.

  She would have been struck dumb to learn that Morland was in the very same state. Having Lizzy one person away from him in a church pew was not unusual. He’d sat with the Steele family on countless occasions, but this was not just any Lizzy. This was the woman he knew would be open to his attention. This was the woman whom he’d never allowed himself to imagine as his wife but now had the freedom to do so.

  It was nothing short of God’s intervention that he heard any part of the service.

  Pembroke

  “We were in Jonah again,” Harriet told Tate over lunch. “I’ve certainly learned a lot from that small book.”

  “I enjoy the notes Pastor sends.”

  “He apologized to me several times about not getting those done this week, but he said several unexpected events popped up, making it impossible.”

  “No matter. Maybe you can tell me what you remember.”

  “I would love to,” Harriet said with great enthusiasm, having taken in every word, but thinking on one point in particular. “I was especially struck by Pastor’s explanation of verse 10 of chapter 3. That’s the one that says God repented of the evil that He said He would do. I’ve struggled with that verse for years because it’s so hard for me to picture God ever needing to repent, but Pastor said this word is used in every sense except the sense that God was doing something wrong.

  “It still means a complete change of mind, a change in the way He would treat these people. God was delighted with the way the citizens of Nineveh turned from their evil ways and had a complete change of mind.”

  Harriet suddenly laughed. “And then, even when I was asking myself if it’s possible for an almighty, all-knowing God to change His mind, Pastor cautioned us to remember that God does respond to us. He responds to our prayers. He said we should not detract from God’s eternality in any way, but that Scripture is written in a way that helps us understand God and who He is.

  “Terms like ‘delight,’ ‘approve,’ ‘joy,’ and ‘grieved’ are used all through the Old Testament. That’s not because God is surprised by anything but because He does respond to us. Pastor said the word ‘repent’ in that verse is better described as ‘respond.’ He explained the repentance of the people caused God to delight in them and respond by not destroying them.”

  Tate laughed with her. He’d had some of those very thoughts.

  Harriet went on, sharing what came to mind and making the meal pass swiftly. In fact, she did such a fine job of keeping Tate’s interest that that man actually forgot to ask about a certain woman, one who was usually on his mind.

  Newcomb Park

  “It was nice that Morland could join us for lunch,” Henry remarked from his place on the drive. He and his sisters had walked out to see him off.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “He seems to be around quite a bit,” Henry commented, his eyes on Lizzy. Cassandra scooted into the house, leaving them alone.

  “Well, it’s only normal that he should be, Henry,” Lizzy replied, using some logic. “He’s been a friend of the family for years.”

  When Henry didn’t reply, Lizzy looked up at him. His look was calm—she would expect nothing else—but she suddenly felt like a child caught in trouble.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Why won’t you look at Morland as we dine?”

  Lizzy worried her lip. “You noticed that, did you?”

  “Yes, Lizzy. Do you think the man returned to England to see how our garden was doing?”

  A small laugh escaped Lizzy. It was so unlike Henry to be sarcastic. Nevertheless, he was still watching her, clearly waiting for some type of answer.

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  “Give the man some encouragement. As you’ve said, he’s been a friend of the family for years. Unless you know something I don’t, you have no cause to fear him.”

  “No, of course not.”

  Henry sighed, still not sure he was getting through.

  “Have you forgotten so soon, Lizzy, how miserable Barrington was before he learned to read Charlotte?”

  Understanding dawned for the mahogany-haired beauty. She nodded, thanked her brother, and turned to go inside. She now knew of what he spoke, but following through on his suggestion might be a harder task than understanding his reason for doing so.

  She spent a good part of the afternoon picturing herself flirting with Morland or giving him special looks. Each time she visualized it, she blushed to the roots of her hair or burst out laughing.

  Pembroke

  “I did something on my own,” Cassandra said the moment she arrived on the sun-filled veranda Monday morning.

  “And what might that be?”

  “I brought a book to read, but if you don’t care for it,” she added swiftly, “we can go on in the newspaper.”

  “I’d like to hear it,” Tate said without hesitation. Hearing what Cassandra thought enjoyable was very interesting to him.

  “Shall I begin?”

  Tate just covered a smile. She had sounded so uncertain.

  “Or we can visit for a time,” Tate suggested.

  “I’ll read!”

  This was said so quickly that Tate had to cover his mouth with his hand. She was panicked about something—there was no mistake about that—but he would probably have to bide his time to find out what.

  Cassandra beg
an to read Rip van Winkle. She was halfway through the first chapter when something occurred to her.

  “Mr Tate?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you read this book before?”

  “Yes.”

  Cassandra sighed. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “Because I would enjoy hearing it again.”

  She sighed again. “Why do I feel as though you have me come because you can’t find it in your heart to tell me not to return?”

  “That’s a very good question, especially since I don’t feel that way. One would be tempted to ask why you think I feel that way?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassandra admitted, wishing she hadn’t even asked if he’d read the book. “Suddenly I doubt everything I do.”

  Tate couldn’t help but wonder if her doubts would disappear if only he would declare himself. But he couldn’t do that without a better measure of her feelings, and to date, that hadn’t happened.

  “May I tell you something?” Tate asked, deciding to try for the next best thing.

  “Of course.”

  “There is one thing you don’t need to doubt. You need never doubt my enjoying your visits. I’m sorry I’ve done such a poor job of expressing how much I want you to come. On days when you don’t, I find myself quite lonely.”

  “I miss you too,” Cassandra admitted before she thought about it. Her face full of extra color, she asked, “Shall I go ahead and read?”

  “Please.”

  Keeping strictly to business, Cassandra did just that. She’d read the story before and only half attended. Tate didn’t listen at all, except to the sound of her husky voice, the way she pronounced words, and the proximity of her voice, telling him she was close by. He prayed for patience and for Cassandra as well. Somewhere in his heart he was certain he would be healed.

  Help her, Father. Help her to be ready. If the time comes when I can see again, she’ll need to be prepared, because nothing short of Your hand will hold me back.

  Collingbourne

  “Hello, Morland.” Cassandra greeted him with a huge smile. They had happened down the same aisle at Benwick’s. She hadn’t been expecting it, but Cassandra was always glad to see him. Lizzy was behind her, and Cassandra was very impressed that Morland finished his greeting to her before shifting his gaze to her sister.