Love at the Tower (11 page)

“And as for this foolish notion about employment – your new husband, whoever he is, will not want a wife who works. It seems to me there is no alternative. We should send you back to France on the very next boat.”

Robina felt like responding to this barrage, but her father interrupted.

“Laura, have you forgotten the reason I asked her to return from France in the first place? Has it slipped your mind, perhaps, that it is now the anniversary of Robina's mother's death this very weekend?”

“Oh, I am sorry,” she replied awkwardly, realising that she had just committed a dreadful error of judgement in pushing the matter too far.

“No, Robina must remain at least until the weekend and then I will make a decision. I am her father, Laura, and the only one to decide her fate – not you! Robina, we shall not speak of this again until after the weekend.”

She was stunned at his apparent change in attitude.

“Yes, Papa,” Robina answered meekly, yet secretly she was thrilled that he had, in her eyes, stood up for her.

‘Maybe he has changed his mind on marrying me off,' she thought, as they rose to retire to the drawing room for coffee. ‘Perhaps he has decided that my place is with him after all.'

Robina did not stay up very long.

She felt in need of a long hot bath after her ride and now, pleasantly full, she took her leave and retired.

Just as she was leaving, her father spoke to her,

“Robina, I have ordered flowers for the grave and I trust that the Earl will not be requiring you on Saturday?”

“No, Papa.”

“Very well, we shall leave for the churchyard after breakfast.”

Robina was ecstatic.

‘I was wrong to believe Papa would forget all about Saturday,' she thought, as she climbed upstairs.

After a delicious bath she was about to settle herself down for the night when there was a loud knocking at her bedroom door.

‘How strange,' she thought, as she hurriedly put on her dressing-gown.

She expected it to be Molly, grumbling that she had forgotten something, so she was surprised to see Newman standing there holding a salver in his hand.

“I am so sorry to disturb you, miss, but this has just been delivered by hand.”

“Really? Who brought it?”

“It was a messenger on horseback, miss. I believe it is from the Castle. Look – that is the Hampton crest.”

Robina turned the letter over and looked at the red wax seal.

It was, as Newman had guessed, the Earl's crest.

Eagerly tearing open the letter, she began to read,

“
My dear Robina
,” it said.

“
I do hope that your evening has passed off without event. I am writing to request that you do not come to the Castle tomorrow as planned, or indeed, next week either.

I cannot say why, but I would ask you to await my further instructions.

I will write to you again in due course when I have need of your services.

Yours, Robert Hampton
.”

“Oh!” she cried out loud.

She climbed into bed feeling heavy of heart.

‘What has occurred to make him change his mind?' she wondered, as she stared up at the ceiling. ‘Is Ellis in trouble again and the Earl has been forced to sort out the matter?'

The more she ruminated about it, the more worried she became.

‘Has he been taken ill or perhaps a relative has died and he has only just received the news?'

Even though she was feeling exhausted all manner of thoughts persisted in crowding into her mind.

And the last picture she could see before she drifted off to a deep sleep was of the Earl's handsome face – his bright blue eyes burning with simmering emotion.

But the Earl did not send for Robina the next day or the day after that.

If it had not have been for her growing sense of uneasiness, she might well not have worried quite so much that she had somehow either caused him offence or he had decided that he no longer required her services.

Laura did not make life any easier for her either by following Robina wherever she went.

‘Must she keep such a close eye on me?' thought Robina angrily, as she spied her standing on the terrace, looking down the garden, while she sat by the fountain.

It had become one of her favourite places to sit and think and now her stepmother was making it very difficult for her to relax.

‘I hope that she is not about to come and give me yet another lecture about Lord Drury,' she muttered, as her stepmother came walking towards her.

“Robina!”

“Yes, Stepmama.”

“I have had a letter from Lord Drury. You are most fortunate as he is prepared to forgive your bad manners and has expressed an interest in visiting us for dinner again. As it is your mother's anniversary this weekend, I shall leave it until next week before I invite him again.”

“Very well, Stepmama.”

“And have I your promise that this time you will be cooperative?”

Robina hung her head – she had no wish to see the man ever again, but she also did not wish to tell a lie.

“I will be present at dinner,” she responded after a long pause. “I promise you.”

Laura appeared satisfied with her assurance and left without another word.

‘Am I to be hounded by her for desiring a choice in this matter?' mused Robina, as she dropped her hand into the cool water. ‘Oh, Mama! I wish you had not died! You would not have forced me to marry against my will.'

Robina knew that she was utterly powerless.

As her father seemed uninterested in her feelings, there was really nothing she could do.

‘If I go against him, then I will risk losing his love altogether. I want to be a dutiful daughter, but how can I when that path leads to utter misery for me? If I was his son, would he be seeking to force me into marriage?'

But if she had been a son, perhaps Robina would not have had the same struggle with her stepmother for she would not have been considered as a rival for her father's affections.

‘Such is the lot of mere women,' she reflected and, not for the first time, she wished she had been born a boy.

Robina stayed by the fountain for some time, lost in thought.

She did not see her stepmother going out in the new brougham.

*

Later she decided to write to Hortense Lamont.

She went up to her bedroom, pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer and began to write in French.

In the letter she asked if she could come and stay indefinitely should her situation not improve.

‘There, it is done! If necessary I will voluntarily remove myself to France. I shall take Nanny with me and we shall find ourselves a small apartment to live in.'

Nanny. Where is she?

Robina realised that she had not seen Nanny for a couple of days.

She rang for Molly and asked her,

“Molly, where is Nanny? Is she ill?”

“I don't know where she is, miss.”

“Would you go and find her, please? I wish her to keep me company.”

The girl looked confused and Robina suddenly felt fear gripping her heart.

“Is Nanny well? Has something happened?”

“No, miss,” muttered Molly, “I will go to find her.”

“Thank you,” answered Robina, a little unnerved by their discourse.

But Nanny did not appear and Molly returned with some excuse about Nanny having to go back to the village for a while.

And there was still the letter to Hortense to post.

She could not possibly trust Molly with the task, so she decided to take the letter to the Post Office herself.

She put on her hat and gloves and ran downstairs.

‘I'll ask Charles to make the new brougham ready,' she thought as she walked towards the stables.

The courtyard was a hive of activity as usual.

Jack was busy with a barrow of straw, while Charles was supervising the grooming of her stepmother's horse.

“Good morning, miss,” he called and waved.

“So, has my stepmother taken poor Pearl for a ride, yet?”

“No, miss. We're about to put her out to the field so she can have a gallop. It's a shame as she's a sociable horse and likes us humans.”

“Perhaps I should take her out. Tell me, Charles, can she pull the brougham?”

“Not really, miss. She's not too suited to it. But she be a fine mount for a lady.”

Robina stroked the dapple-grey mare fondly.

“If you're wantin' to go out today, miss, why don't you take her? The Mistress won't notice.”

“I had come to ask for the brougham – ”

“Oh, it won't be possible, miss. The Mistress took it out earlier.”

“Oh, she did not mention she was going out when I saw her earlier.”

“Gone into the town, no doubt,” suggested Charles, picking up a bridle. “Shall I get the phaeton ready for you instead?”

“No, saddle up Pearl. She shall not linger unloved in her stall any longer.”

“Right you are, miss. She'll be thrilled to be taken out good and proper like.”

Robina felt a delicious sense of wickedness. If her stepmother refused to exercise her horse, then
she
would.

“I hope Firefly will not be too jealous!”

“Oh, don't you worry about him, miss. He's out in the field with Peony and Hercules. They're busy eatin' the clover and chasin' each other.”

Robina laughed.

She jumped up on the box and mounted Pearl. She could sense that the mare was excited at the prospect of a ride out.

“There's a good girl,” crooned Robina, patting her neck. “Come on, we shall let you stretch your legs.”

Very soon she was galloping down the drive. Pearl was not as solid as Firefly, but she had a sure step and was surprisingly swift.

Robina took her across the fields and up to a small wood on the outskirts of the village.

Pearl plunged through the green canopy without a second thought and Robina laughed out in delight as they passed through a wide thicket.

“It's a pity Stepmama does not take you out more often. You are a brave little horse.”

Remembering her letter Robina turned Pearl around and headed towards the village.

On the way she passed by
The Three Oaks Inn
and saw, to her utter amazement, the new brougham standing outside.

‘How peculiar! Why is Stepmama visiting the inn?'

However, she did not linger in case her stepmother appeared and saw her, so she urged Pearl on and they rode into the village.

She posted the letter and even though a part of her wanted to ride past the inn again, she refrained from doing so.

‘My Stepmama is up to something, but I dare not confront her about it. I shall have to find out through some other means.'

By the time she returned, all manner of theories had occurred to her.

‘Was Stepmama meeting Lord Drury at the inn? Or was it some another man? If she is deceiving Papa, then I must endeavour to uncover evidence of it. Surely he would send her packing if he found her to be unfaithful to him?'

Much as she realised it would hurt him, she secretly wished her stepmother's virtue to be questionable – would that not make things a great deal easier for her?

She returned Pearl to the stables and as she slipped in through the French windows, she heard her stepmother's voice in the hall.

‘So, she is back,' thought Robina, as she stood in the shadows in the corridor by the stairs.

“Newman, please don't allow anyone to disturb me, I am going to take a nap once I have had luncheon in my room,” she heard her say.

‘Perhaps I shall have a chance to speak with Papa,' Robina told herself, as she emerged from the corridor.

The dining room was ready for luncheon.

“Good afternoon, miss,” Newman greeted her brightly as she entered.

“What is for luncheon?” she asked in anticipation as the long ride had made her feel hungry.

“Cold chicken and a selection of vegetables.”

“And for pudding?”

“A peach tart, miss.”

Robina sat down and gleefully awaited her father's entrance.

She did not have to wait for long as he entered the room a few moments later.

“Ah, Robina!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “I am so pleased that you and I will have the opportunity to talk. Laura is a little tired after a morning of charity work in the village. I think it depresses her to see such poverty.”

Robina was quite taken aback.

She could not see her undertaking any charity work in
The Three Oaks Inn
!

“Did she say what she was doing precisely? I often find myself with time upon my hands and perhaps I could join her,” she said carefully.

“Oh, I think it is tending the sick and looking after the children whose parents are forced to leave them so that they can go out and earn money.”

“I did not realise that there were so many waifs and strays in the village.”

“‘
If you look, so ye shall find
' – is that not what the Bible taught us?”

Robina merely smiled in reply.

So her stepmother was not being truthful!

Even if her father believed this stuff about feeding stray children, she did not! There was indeed a charity for the poor run by the Church, but usually the helpers visited nearby villages.

“I have ordered my floral tribute for your Mama's grave,” said her father suddenly, “it is being delivered this afternoon along with your own.”

“When shall we visit the cemetery?”

“I have ordered the phaeton to be ready for us after breakfast. Laura will not be coming with us as I told her it would not be necessary.”

Robina smiled at him gratefully.

“I have asked the Vicar to attend us and say a few words. It will be a simple reading and a blessing.”

Robina reached out across the table and touched her father's hand.

“Thank you, Papa,” she said in a low tearful voice. “That is a wonderful thing to do. I am certain that if Mama is up in Heaven looking down on us, she would be pleased to be remembered in this way.”