A Lady of Secret Devotion (10 page)

“I’m hardly helpless. When he pulled me into bed, I slapped him quite vigorously.”

“He pulled you into bed?” Mark felt his anger stirred.

Cassie bit her lip and shook her head. “That sounded so awful—which it was, but nothing happened.” She smiled. “Let’s just forget about it. It was upsetting, but I shall know better than to assist him next time.”

Mark nodded. “I hope you will stay away from him.”

“I will. And what of you and your business in Philadelphia? Will you be with us much longer?”

“Why don’t we sit? I would very much like to explain something.” Mark offered his arm and they walked to where the iron settee and chairs were positioned.

Cassie took a seat on the settee, but Mark found it served his purpose to stand. “I don’t know quite where to begin, but it has to do with the loss of my best friend.”

“I’m so sorry. When did this happen?” Cassie questioned.

He heard the sincere concern and sympathy in her voice and smiled. “A few weeks back. We had been friends for many years, and losing him has been most difficult to bear.”

“I know how that can be.” She held his gaze and smiled. “I’m sure he must have been quite a wonderful person, if he was your best friend.”

Mark smiled. “Richard was a good man. We were working together and he came here to Philadelphia to investigate a problem.” Mark chose his words carefully. He was still uncertain how much he could share. “Richard . . . was killed. Murdered.”

“How awful.” Cassie put her hand to her throat. “I cannot even fathom such a horrific thing. Who did it?”

“That’s part of the reason I’m here, but you cannot speak of it to anyone.”

“But why? If you are here to find his murderer, why not shout it out to the world?”

Mark paced a bit, then took a chair beside the settee. “There’s something . . . well . . . I’m not sure how to say this, but I believe the time has come for me to—”

“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Jameston announced from the French doors. “Why don’t we adjourn to the dining room?”

Cassie looked at him for a moment before rising. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation another time.”

“I thought you might like to have some of your favorite chocolate cake,” Silas said as he slipped into Sebastian’s room. “I made it with you in mind.”

“You’re the only one who ever considers me,” Sebastian said, pushing his dinner tray to one side.

Silas brought the plate to Sebastian and smiled. “It seems you’ve managed to get yourself in quite a mess this time, Sebbie.”

“I suppose so,” he said, picking up his fork to sample the cake. “Mother was certainly less than happy to see me. Tell me about this Miss Stover. I’d certainly like to know more about her.”

The older man shook his head. “I couldn’t really say. She seems to be amiable enough. Your mother finds comfort in her company.”

“Unlike she does in mine.”

This gained him a sympathetic smile from the cook. “I wouldn’t seek to contradict you, sir, but your mother has been notably worried about your health.”

“Only because she wants to see me leave as soon as possible.” Sebastian forked in another mouthful of cake and gave a little groan of pleasure.

“I’m glad the cake meets with your approval. I should return to the kitchen now. They are serving luncheon below, and I could be needed.”

“Silas, I want you to do me a favor.”

The man paused and looked at him in question. Sebastian smiled. There was very little Silas wouldn’t do for him. He was completely loyal. “Find out what you can about Miss Stover. I’d like to know where she lives when she’s not here, and who her family is. I want to know it all.”

The man nodded. “I’ll do what I can, young master.”

Sebastian smiled and turned his attention back to the food. “And send me up another piece of cake. I find my appetite has only just been whetted by this offering.”

It had been whetted, too, by the appearance of the beautiful Miss Stover, but Sebastian wouldn't yet take action on that. There was too much at stake. First he had to mend from his wound, and then he had to assure his men that their plans were not jeopardized.

"Of course, first I need to convince myself of that matter," Sebastian said aloud. His eyes narrowed as he thought of the problems that had been thrust upon him, including the leg wound. People would pay for causing him difficulties. He would see to it.

Chapter 8

A
few days later Cassie strolled beside Mrs. Jameston as they went for their afternoon walk. She had come to greatly enjoy her position as companion to the older woman, and she felt a sense of excitement as they discussed some of the upcoming events to which Mrs. Jameston had been invited.

“I’m not always obligated to attend parties,” Mrs. Jameston declared, “but the Wilsons are good friends, as are the Bea-vertons and Isaacs. I should very much like to attend their gatherings and have replied as such to their invitations. You will, of course, accompany me.”

Cassie couldn’t begin to imagine what such parties would entail. “I hope I will not embarrass you.”

“Hardly, child. Besides, people of society do plenty to embarrass themselves. The Wilsons, for example, have a son who is very nearly as much trouble as my Sebastian. We often commiserate. Oh look, the lilacs are beginning to bud! It won’t be long now before they are flowering in full.”

Cassie let her gaze travel to the bushes, heavy with the promise of springtime flowers.

“I love to have huge collections of them in every room. It makes the house smell so sweet,” Mrs. Jameston admitted. “But I digress. The Wilsons will have a party in May to celebrate Henrietta’s birthday. She hasn’t been all that healthy of late, but she does love to celebrate her birthday. We will attend the dinner, and then if it seems the party is going well, we might stay for the dance.”

“What do you mean, if the party is going well?” Cassie asked.

“As I mentioned, they have a son who is quite unruly. His name is Franklin, and he has ruined more than one of his mother’s parties. He never comes for the dinner but generally shows up at the dance to cause enough of a commotion that most of us make plans to leave prior to his arrival.”

“How sad that he should ruin what means so much to his mother.”

Mrs. Jameston nodded. “He has always been jealous of his mother. She holds his father’s affections in full, and Franklin has often felt left out of their circle. It isn’t true, of course, for his five sisters seem to feel no such abandonment, but Franklin is frustrated by his mother’s influence over his father. She often advises him in matters of business, and Franklin feels he should be the only one attending to that. But enough of such miseries.”

She began to walk again and pointed toward a large house with her silver-tipped cane. “That is the Isaacs’ house. They have been in Philadelphia since before the war. Of course, the house was less grand back then. Mr. Isaacs made a fortune in railroad investments and built this beautiful stone estate for his new bride.”

Cassie had seen the grand mansion on several occasions during her private strolls. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a husband who loved you so much that he would spend that kind of fortune to please you. Mark’s image came to mind and she felt her stomach give a flip.

Memories from Sunday remained strong in Cassie’s mind. Mark had been about to tell her something important when Mrs. Jameston had called them to dinner. He had never found the opportunity to speak on the matter again, and for that Cassie was sorry. He appeared to be quite vexed about it, and why not? His best friend had been murdered, likely cut down in the prime of his life. Cassie could not begin to imagine how awful it would be to have to seek out the man who’d killed your friend.

“I do not believe you have heard a word I’ve said,” Mrs. Jameston said. She stopped and looked at Cassie with a grin. “Whatever—or whomever—is on your mind?”

Cassie shook her head. “I am sorry. I don’t mean to be so preoccupied. I suppose it’s because I’m nearly a year older.” She laughed.

“You are about to have a birthday?”

“Yes. This Saturday, the twenty-fifth. I’ll be twenty-five. The same number as the day. Mother teased me that this was a lucky birthday. She said that when you had a birthday that matched the date you were born, you would be extra blessed with God’s good gifts.”

“What a pleasant thought. Oh, but we must have a party for you.”

“No, that’s quite all right. I wish to celebrate with my mother and sister.” She put her hand to her mouth. Speaking through her gloved fingers she apologized. “I didn’t mean to sound ungracious. Of course I’d love celebrating with you as well. I just know that my mother plans to make my favorite meal.”

“She can make it at my house, or we can have Silas make it and give her a rest.”

“You are so generous. How kind.”

“We shall also invite that nice Mr. Langford. I think he has an eye for you, Cassie. He seems such a decent sort.”

“I find his company . . . easy to bear,” Cassie said.

Mrs. Jameston gave a knowing laugh. “Easy to bear . . . yes, yes. And he’s handsome too.”

Cassie laughed. “Yes. That had not escaped my notice.”

This only made Mrs. Jameston laugh all the more. “We shall have a grand time of it. I will send word immediately to your mother, as well as an invitation to Mr. Langford. Should we invite anyone else?”

“No,” Cassie said, smiling. “There really isn’t anyone else with whom I would rather spend my day.”

Mark checked his pocket watch as he made his way into the boardinghouse. He’d had no luck locating the address of Sebastian Jameston’s mistress and was feeling a great sense of urgency to accomplish something more than he’d already done.

“Evening,” August Westmoreland greeted as Mark entered the front parlor.

“Good evening.” Mark nodded to the proprietor.

The stocky man gave his chin a scratch, then struggled to his feet with the help of a sturdy oak cane. “You were certainly gone for a long time. I hope the time merited you well.”

“It did not, unfortunately.” Mark took a seat as Mr. West-moreland continued to watch him.

“You seem concerned.” Westmoreland tilted his head. “Is there naught that I can do to offer you aid?”

Mark considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was time to put him to work. “I understand you used to work as a police officer,” he started.

“I did,” the man said. He went to the window and closed it before hobbling back to his chair. “It’s going to rain. I can feel it all the way down my spine. My leg only acts up when it rains,” he continued, as if Mark had demanded some sort of explanation for the cane.

“I thought the air felt rather heavy,” Mark replied. “I’m sure you are right about the weather.”

“Most everyone is out for the evening. My sister has made a wonderful dinner of lamb stew, but if you’d like to delay here a bit longer, you can explain what kind of help you need that you would bring up my former situation.”

Mark nodded. “I was told you were a good man to see about private matters that needed further investigation. I was told you were able to keep information in confidence—as well as do a good job for a fair price.”

The man grinned and ran his hand through his hair. “Aye, that I am.”

“Well, I am in need of such a man.”

“Then let us discuss your situation over supper. I’ll send Nancy to visit her friend, as she ate earlier with the others. We’ll have the house to ourselves, at least for a time.”

“That sounds perfect,” Mark replied.

“When does the next shipment come in?” Sebastian questioned. Robbie had just finished re-dressing his leg. The wound looked much better, and Sebastian knew his fever was nearly gone.

“The twenty-seventh. The ship was delayed after it left France. They had trouble and had to make port temporarily in Plymouth. They weren’t long detained, but long enough that it set our schedule back.”

Thunder rumbled as a light rain began to splatter against the windowpanes. Sebastian motioned to Robbie to close the window. “Have the police stopped nosing around regarding that insurance investigator’s death?” Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “I won’t have that mess rearing its ugly head again.”

Robbie returned from the window and shrugged. “There have been no further questions. I’ve found no one else to be snooping around the docks. The boys would have told me if there was a real threat. So far, no one has come to bother them.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Still, I’m certain they will not just set it aside. Unless I miss my guess, they’ll send someone else as soon as they decide how to go about it. Now, tell me about this next shipment.”

Robbie fanned through some papers before pulling one sheet from the pile. “The original freight had nothing more than rubber boots, tea, and other incidentals. However, it has been insured as being a far more valuable cargo.” He grinned. “As it now reads, it contains expensive china, crystal, and rare pieces of art, including those that are supposedly being sold from one collector to another.”

“Good. Still, given the trouble we’ve had in the past, I’m inclined to believe it might be time for a change. We should definitely consider ending our work here and moving on to another location.”

Robbie crossed the room and sat down on the edge of Sebastian’s bed. “Do you know how long it will take to secure and train another group of dock workers? It will also be quite expensive, and I hardly think we’re prepared for that.”

“That’s true. Unless I can get money from my mother,” Sebastian stated, easing back against the pillows. “I’m certain to be able to get some support from her, but whether it will be enough is another question. However, I already know the location. Baltimore.”

“Baltimore? But why?”

“Because we have mutual friends there who have served us well in the past. I believe they would prove useful in securing a force to assist us,” Sebastian declared.

“I hadn’t thought about it before, but I suppose you are right.” Robbie seemed to think about the matter for several minutes. “Baltimore would be a reasonable location.”