The Visitor (13 page)

“Thank you for your time, Mr Walker,” she began as soon as she’d taken a seat. “It’s most generous of you.”

“Not at all, Cassandra. It’s a pleasure to have you. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some tea?”

“I’m sure. I won’t beat about the bush, Mr Walker. I’ve come about my brother.”

“Henry or Edward?”

“Henry. He seems to enjoy you so, and I was most curious as to whether or not the two of you have ever ventured into discussions of a spiritual nature. Lizzy and I can’t seem to read Henry or get very close to him, and so I thought I would ask you if you have any sense of what Henry believes.”

Walker had not been expecting this, but neither was he surprised. Henry Steele had often been on his mind, and he’d asked himself some of the same questions.

“May I ask you some questions, Cassandra?”

“Of course.”

“Did something happen that caused you to suddenly think about this, or have you wondered for a long time?”

“It has been a long time, but just recently it’s become so clear to me that Henry desires things over people. Would a man who considers himself to be a follower of God’s Son really be so self-centered and involved in his own interests?”

Walker nodded thoughtfully.

“Have you or Lizzy ever asked him about this?”

“No. We wish to be respectful, and beyond that, he just never invites any type of personal interaction. I’ve never known a person who needed so few words to live. I honestly think he could be happy alone for the rest of his life.”

Walker encouraged Cassandra to share what life was like at Newcomb Park, and when she did, Walker knew he was going to have to get involved. Henry Steele was a reserved man at church, but not when he was with James Walker. Walker, now understanding that Henry was not talkative and caring at home—to the point that his sisters doubted his salvation—knew it was time to check into things.

“I’m glad you came to me, Cassandra. I’ll be setting up an appointment to talk with Henry very soon.”

Cassandra looked a bit panicked about this, even coming to her feet.

“What if he’s angry with me? What if he feels betrayed because I’ve never gone to him? What do I do then, Mr Walker?”

“It’s all right, Cassandra,” he comforted her, his face and voice full of compassion and understanding. “I’m not saying you can’t talk to him, but I do plan to get involved. I won’t even mention your visit unless he’s open to talking to me about personal matters. But we can’t just let this go. I’ve known your family for years, Cassandra. I don’t believe Henry will feel threatened by me. I think he’ll see how much I care, and if your visit comes up, I think he’ll see the same thing about you.”

Cassandra nodded. Mr Walker was right. Henry was not the type to anger easily or lash out. Indeed, he was remarkably mild. And Mr Walker was right about another thing: It wasn’t right that things go on as they were. Even if Henry’s view of her changed forever, a person of integrity couldn’t go on pretending that all was well when it clearly was not.

Chapter Six

Brown Manor

When Marianne Jennings, accompanied by her baby daughter and nanny, arrived at Brown Manor, Weston met them on the drive, feeling a mixture of pleasure and chagrin.

“Hello, Weston,” she greeted him kindly. “How is Anne today?”

“Very ready for your visit. We’re so glad you could come.”

“I need to tell you, Weston,” Marianne began, “Sophie can take Catherine outside or play with her downstairs if you think it will be too much to have her upstairs.”

“To be honest with you, Marianne, Anne hoped to see the children. I know she will enjoy it.”

“We’ll keep it brief,” Marianne suggested wisely. “I’ll send Sophie and Catherine down after just a bit.”

“Thank you,” Weston said to Marianne, but also to his heavenly Father. He had desperately wanted to give his wife this type of visit but didn’t know how to go about it in a way that would not offend someone or tax his bedridden spouse.

Weston trailed his guests up the stairs for one reason: to hear his wife’s reaction. It was just as he expected.

“Oh, Mari, you brought the baby! Look how big she is! And so lovely.”

Marianne sat proudly near the bed, Catherine on her lap.

“Do you want to try to hold her, Anne?”

“I’m not supposed to lift at all,” Anne answered, denying her own heart. “I’ll just lie here and talk to her. Hello, Catherine. Your dress is so pretty.”

The baby smiled when Anne smiled at her, melting the expectant mother’s heart into a puddle.

“She’s a good baby, isn’t she?”

“Very. As soon as you’re able, you need to come and see her interact with Thomas, James, and Penny. She adores them and can charm any of them into holding her and carting her around.”

“And they love it.”

“Yes. If she cries, it breaks their hearts. Even if she’s been told no about touching something or dropping food on the floor, they can’t stand for her to be sad.”

Anne put her hand out, but Catherine’s attention had gone to her mother’s locket, and she didn’t notice. Delighting in the soft button nose and baby chin, Anne studied that small profile and found herself asking God if she would ever hold her baby in such a way.

“I’m going to send Catherine out with Sophie now so we can visit.”

“Thank you for bringing her, Mari. It’s done my heart such good.”

Marianne wasted no time in handing the baby off to her nanny and returning to give Anne her undivided attention. She watched Anne’s gaze as it followed the baby all the way out the door, her own heart asking God to give Anne and Weston a child of their own.

Pembroke

Cassandra arrived to read in the afternoon. She and Mr Tate had finished
DeMitri’s Pomario,
and were now taking time each day to read the newspaper, something they both enjoyed. She walked to the library in the usual way and began at once. Tate, however, stopped her in less then five minutes.

“Are you feeling all right today, Cassandra?”

“Yes, thank you. Are you all right?”

“Are you certain?” he asked, ignoring the question she had posed to him.

“Yes.”

Tate sat quietly, his head turned in the usual way, his right ear toward her.

“Shall I go on?”

“No.”

Cassandra didn’t expect this and for a moment wasn’t sure what to do.

“I think maybe I should leave,” she concluded and began to stand.

“Has something happened? Are you troubled about something?”

Cassandra sat back.

“How did you know I was troubled?”

“Your voice.”

“What does it sound like?”

“It’s deeper than usual.”

Cassandra said nothing to this, so Tate went on.

“I get the impression you’ve been crying.”

Cassandra drew in a sharp breath.

“Cassandra, what is it?”

“I can’t do this.” Her voice had taken on a breathless quality. “You need to be resting. This is not why I come.”

Tate could tell she was on her feet.

“Please don’t go,” he begged her, scooting forward in his seat, wishing he could see where she was. “Please stay, Cassandra. We won’t speak of it if you don’t care to.”

Tate heard her sniff, glad she was still in the room.

“Are you there?” he asked gently.

“Yes.”

“Come and sit down.” Tate sat back in his chair. “We’ll just sit for a time.”

Cassandra thought how unfair it would be to leave when she was upset. That would not be restful for either of them and would make for awkwardness the next time she came. She returned to her seat but did not reach for the paper.

“Do you think you remember the two verses from Psalm 117?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Sometimes when the darkness crowds close to me in a way that’s almost frightening, I start reciting verses to myself. It’s a huge help to remember how big my God is.”

“I can see how that would be. I do remember verses, just not as perfectly as you do.”

“I think anything that reminds us of what God has to say on a matter is helpful. What do you think?”

“I think I need to remember that today.”

Tate was quiet for a moment.

“I need to say something, Cassandra, and I hope you’ll hear me out.”

“I will, yes.”

“If I’ve done something to upset you, I can’t rest. No matter what effect it has on my health, you need to confront me. But even if I haven’t caused an upset for you, you may speak to me. I’m not that fragile.” Tate smiled a little. “I won’t even be able to see if you blush.”

Cassandra laughed a bit and felt herself relaxing.

“I had to meet with someone today concerning a situation that’s painful for me. Had I known that it would have showed in my voice, I would not have come and put that burden on you.”

“Was there resolution in the matter?”

“No. Steps will now be taken, but the outcome is a mystery.”

“And your heart is involved.”

“Yes.”

“That’s the most painful type, isn’t it?”

“That’s certainly true.”

“Is the situation something that you must resolve, or did you have to leave that to someone else?”

Harriet chose that moment to walk past the library door. She glanced in but came to a complete halt when she saw that Cassandra wasn’t reading.

“Cassandra?” Tate tried when he heard steps on the carpet, assuming she’d moved.

“Hello, Mrs Thorpe,” Cassandra said quietly, able to see the upset in her eyes.

“Well, Aunt Harriet. I didn’t know you’d come in.”

“What are you doing, Tate?”

“I’m talking to Cassandra.”

“Is that wise, Tate? I thought the reading was all you needed.”

Tate sat up very straight, his voice changing a bit. Had his aunt any idea how rude she’d just sounded?

“Find a seat, Aunt Harriet. I need to speak with you.”

“I’ll go,” Cassandra began.

“Please don’t. I need to talk to both of you.”

Tate waited until he’d heard them settle and then began.

“Aunt Harriet, you need to stop worrying so much, as does Cassandra, who’s a little too afraid of upsetting me. Being babied can be stressful too. I don’t know if all of this rest is helping my vision or not—we’ll have to wait and see about that—but you need to trust me to know whether I’ve overtaxed myself. There’s going to be a certain amount of burden for those seeing to me, but you’ll have to leave it up to me to admit when I’ve had enough. If I overdo and don’t gain my sight back, that’s something I’ll have to live with.

“I don’t expect you to be at my beck and call all my life, but I can’t give up all interest in everyone and everything because I’m supposed to be resting. It’s not right or practical.”

The room was utterly silent on this announcement. Cassandra could have kicked herself for coming at all today. Glancing over at Harriet and finding with a start the older woman’s eyes on her, she spoke without thinking.