Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (54 page)

BOOK: Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)
5.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I am fine.”  Louisa handed Wallace back to his father and sat back with a smile.  “I am with child.”

“No!”  He smiled widely.  “That is outstanding news!  Hurst did not say a word of it!”

“He does not know.”  Louisa pursed her lips and whispered.  “I will tell him next week when he returns.”

“You told me first? Why?”

“Because we have been trying for years to have a child, and honestly, I thought that it was not meant to be, but then this little man came to live in our house and suddenly, here I am.”  She caressed Wallace’s hair. “Thank you for the loan of his excellent influence.” 

“So my son is a good luck charm?”  Robinson laughed.  “I will have to make a note to see if the trend continues.”  His smile faded and he stared down at the baby’s dark hair.  He sat without speaking, just caressing Wallace’s head as he sat on his lap, and finally in a choked voice, he spoke.   “We might have had another, except she did not want him.  She drank a concoction.”

“Oh no.”  Louisa gasped. 

“She gave herself to a peer in the hopes of . . . Lord knows what.”  He finally let it flow out of him.  “I had to listen to the man describe what it was like to be with my wife.  He talked about it like he was evaluating a prostitute.  He was!”  Robinson squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of Louisa’s shock.  “I was no better, paying women for the pleasure.  That is why I still offered to reconcile with her.  She encouraged me to use courtesans, wanting to limit our time because . . .” He looked down at Wallace.  “She did not want children?”

Louisa pulled herself together and attempted to understand her sister’s actions, but failed. “It is a mark of superiority to have survived childbirth.  I certainly heard her lording it over me that she had produced Wallace.”  Robinson reached out to touch her hand.  She smiled.  “It was not unexpected.”

“I am sorry.  I had no idea; I would have said something to her.  I should not have told you this.  I am ruining your memory of your sister.  A woman should not hear . . .”

“Harris.  My sister did me no favours, and I was grateful that she married you because it saved my own marriage.  If listening to the truth of how she destroyed her life helps you to heal, then so be it.  Unburden yourself.”  She nodded encouragingly when he hesitated.  “You asked her attitude towards children.  In her mind, the children were born and sent to the governess, only to be seen by the parents for brief, disinterested visits and shown off as prizes to visiting women.  You were to be occupied by the courtesans to fulfil your needs.”

“I never visited another after I heard of what she had done with Lord Creary.”  He said softly.  “I brought home that girl, the servant, the runaway.  I saw that she needed a home.  I recognized myself in her, used, wise to ugliness, and I did have good intentions, but that afternoon I listened to him crow over the pregnant wench who serviced him, I was so angry and I admit to having ugly thoughts of bedding the girl in Caroline’s home, under her nose.  Stupid.  I would not have done it.”  He looked up at Louisa.  “Truly.”

“The girl was not so sure.”  She said seriously.  “Neither were my husband or brother.”

“I can believe that, I am sure that she felt I was menacing.   I know I was numb to all charitable feeling.  And then Wallace came.”  He looked at the boy happily sucking his hand.  “And everything changed.”  He leaned down to kiss the baby’s head, and closed his eyes.  “Is there anything that I could have done differently with Caroline?  I think that she cared for me a little.”

“She did care for you.  But my sister grew up as I did, expecting to advance beyond our roots.  Unfortunately, she felt that meant that she should move to the highest ranks immediately, instead of taking it by steps, and simply being satisfied somewhere in the middle.”  Louisa looked around the drawing room.  “Which is where I am, and I am quite content to remain.”

“I think that I am as well, I let success cloud my vision.”  Robinson removed his son’s hands from his mouth and held them, smiling down at the wide eyes now staring up at him.  “You and I, Son, we will be successful merchants of exotic fruits.  We will invest our profits wisely; perhaps expand our business, who knows?  We will not attempt to leap to the top.  Perhaps when you grow up, you may move us forward.”

“What of your estate?” 

“Caroline is buried there.”  He sighed.  “I do not know.  Perhaps Wallace would like it one day.  Perhaps I should sell.”

“Pardon me, Mrs. Hurst.”  Louisa and Robinson stood when Abbey entered the room and she immediately stopped, seeing that she was interrupting an emotional conversation.  “Oh, Mr. Robinson, I am sorry, I am sorry for your loss.”  She bit her lip.  “I do not mean to intrude, I should go.”

Louisa smiled.  “It is fine, I am sorry to have neglected you.” 

“Miss Martin, please, it is all right.”  He assured her.  Wallace began squirming in his arms and reaching for her.  “Wallace!  Hold still!”

“Bababa!”  He crowed.

 

Abbey smiled and approached.  “Hello Master Wallace.  Settle down for your papa.”

“He knows you.”  Robinson watched with fascination as his son wrapped his arms around Abbey’s throat and she lifted him up to hold.  “He likes you.”

“Oh we have become good friends.”  She bounced him a little and he laughed.  “I have been keeping Mrs. Hurst company while her husband was away.”  Smiling at Louisa she nodded to the window.  “Papa’s wagon should be along soon.  I finished the trim on the bottom of that gown.”

“Thank you for your help.  I cannot believe that your father let you come.”  Louisa sat down and Abbey sank onto a sofa, still easily holding Wallace, tickling him.

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh, he was not pleased, I can tell you.”

“Your father does not like you visiting here?”  Robinson asked.

“No, he does not like me riding in the delivery wagon.”  She smiled when he nodded his understanding.  “But it is not as if I have any other easy way of coming here.  In any case, while the boys were making their deliveries around to Mayfair, I took advantage of the opportunity.” 

“And I interrupted your visit.”

“No, Mr. Robinson, I am the one in the way.”  Wallace had curled up in her arms and his eyes closed.  “Oh dear.”

Louisa smiled at him.  “He is content.” 

“He is a very sweet boy.”  Abbey caressed his hair, and looked up to Robinson.  “Hold out your arms.”

“No, do not disturb him.”  He smiled at the scene.  “I am glad to see that he feels safe with you.”

“Sir, it is your son, and you hurried home to be with him.”  She leaned forward and eased the baby into his arms.  “There you go.”  Adjusting his little white gown she smiled at him.  “He is a handsome child.”

“Thank you.”  Robinson looked down at his peaceful face and back up to hers. 

“I did not have the opportunity to ask before, have you had any word from Mr. Hurst?”  Abbey asked Louisa.

“I received a letter from Pemberley just this morning, he and Charles are well.” 

Abbey bit her lip.  “Will they stay long?”

“I think they will be home in a week or so.  After hearing Charles praise the sport at Pemberley when we visited last winter, I know that Mr. Hurst was anxious to give it a try while they were in the area.  No doubt he is in a field right now shooting at some bird.  It was their intention to stop there with fabric for Mrs. Darcy after the visit to Scarborough, and since it was so close to Mr. Robinson’s home, there was no reason to curtail their plans; Mr. Hurst knew that I was fine on my own.” 

“I remember they mentioned the sport.”  Robinson said softly while watching his son.  “I was only half-listening.”

“Mr. Robinson, I am amazed that you heard anything at all.”  Abbey smiled at him and he looked up to her appreciatively.  “Mr. Bingley will not stay longer, then?”

“I do not believe so, but that might change. I know that you are looking forward to going to Hertfordshire, it will not be long, but I am afraid that he will not be able to socialize until late October.”  She looked down at her mourning and Abbey nodded her understanding.

“Hertfordshire.”  Robinson sat back and adjusted his hold of Wallace.  “Of course,
that
is the reason he would not buy my estate.”

“Pardon?”  Abbey turned to him.

“Bingley, I offered him my estate, and he said that he needed to go to Hertfordshire.”  He looked down at Wallace. 

“Oh.” 

“Madam, there is someone here for Miss Martin?” 

Louisa touched her arm and Abbey startled from the sight of the man in mourning holding his son.  “I should go.”  She laughed a little.  “No, I
have
to go.  I was glad to help you Mrs. Hurst.  Mr. Robinson, I was glad to see you, sir.  I will keep you in my prayers.”

Robinson stood and bowed a little. “My son and I thank you, Miss Martin.  We need them.”

Abbey curtseyed and left the room with Louisa.  Robinson walked to the window and watched her boarding the delivery cart emblazoned with her father’s name. 

“So she will be my sister?”  He asked when Louisa returned.  “She is the reason Bingley goes to Hertfordshire.”

“I do not know.  They have yet to begin, and it will be October until he may court her.”  She joined him at the window.  “She impressed you?”

Robinson smiled.  “Yes.”  He turned to look at her, “But I suppose that at this moment I am quite susceptible to any person who shows care for my son.”  Wallace stretched and yawned, then woke, looking up at his father with bright eyes.

“I hope you find happiness, Harris.”

“Thank you.”  He shook his head.  “I wonder what that feels like.” 

Louisa tickled Wallace’s chin and he grabbed at her finger.  She tugged it back and he laughed.  Robinson’s eyes met hers and he smiled a little. “I think that you know.”  

 

“INCREDIBLE.”  Darcy said softly, and prepared to cast out his line again. “As terrible as it is to say, I am glad to hear of your suspicions.  Elizabeth and I were quite affected when we heard that she died from the miscarriage, but if it was one of those patent medicines . . .”

“I do not think that it killed her, in fact, this one was no panacea.  It actually worked.  Robinson was understandably not forthcoming with details, but the newly unemployed lady’s maid was happy to whisper her opinion of a bottle that was delivered and hidden away.   It seems Caroline survived the act, but died from the recovery.  The infection came on quickly.”

“My cousin Fitzwilliam is rather suspicious of doctors and their usefulness, especially of their fondness for bleeding their victims.”

“Victims.”  Hurst chuckled.  “Hmm, something in that though, how many times do you call the doctor only to have the patient die?”

“Please, do not remind me.  Does Bingley know of his sister’s behaviour?”

“No.  And Robinson told me nothing of it either, so it remains speculation on my part.  There was more behind this; he was quite determined to bury her off the estate.  Whatever happened between them, he was infuriated.”

“I can imagine, but he showed her respect in the end.”

“His pain and regret were palpable and honestly surprising to me.  It once again proves that you never truly know what happens beyond the public eye in a marriage, or in a man’s heart.”  Seeing that Darcy’s lips were curved up slightly, Hurst laughed to himself before becoming serious.  “Robinson never wants to set foot in the estate again.”  Casting his line, he watched it pull with the flow of the stream.  “He tried to sell it to Bingley.”

Feeling a tug, Darcy began reeling his in and seeing nothing, cast out again.  “Tried?  He turned it down?”

“Yes.”  Hurst shook his head.

“Well, good for Bingley.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your brother may have gone ahead with the decision to put in the steam-powered looms at the mills, but he is still undecided if he will sell out the business.  If that is the ultimate goal, he needs an estate large enough to supply him the income he requires to maintain his lifestyle; and that means something the size of Netherfield.  Robinson’s estate is not enough.  As a simple country home, a place to enjoy some hunting and escape town, it is self-sustaining and perfect, but not as a sole source of income.  Not for Bingley.  Now for another man . . .” Darcy became thoughtful, and drawing his arm back, flicked his line into the water.

“I had not thought of that, of course he would still have over half of his father’s money to just invest or even purchase additional land.”

Darcy woke from his musing and disagreed.  “Significant amounts of land are not that easy to acquire, it is all tied up in entails.  He would want something adjacent to his property or at least nearby if he was to manage it easily.” 

“You have quite a bit of land, spread throughout the country, I have noticed.”

“That I do.”  Darcy smiled and Hurst chuckled.  “And I own what is above and below

“Timber and coal?” 

“And whatever else might be found.”  He stared off into the distance.  “I will do well by my heirs, whichever way the tide turns.”

“What do you mean?”

Darcy startled, “Oh, are you watching the change in industry, Hurst?  You witnessed Bingley struggling with his mills; you would be wise to invest beyond your inheritance of your father’s estate.”  He raised his brows.  “Change is not coming, it is here.”

“I will take your advice.”  Hurst’s brow creased and he turned back to the stream.

“Darcy!”  Bingley called and held up the fat trout he had just caught.  “What on earth do you have in this water?  This beast is enormous!” 

Laughing, they walked down the bank to examine his prize.  “I think that they have been left to their own devices for too long.  You are our first guests for some time.” 

“I wish that we could stay for the hunting season.”  Hurst looked around wistfully.  “The sport here must be magnificent.”

“You enjoyed a fox hunt last year.” 

“I prefer the shooting.”  Hurst watched a flock of geese rise up from the lake and settle down.  “Back home with us.  I have been away from Louisa too long.”

“You are welcome to stay, Bingley.”  Darcy offered.  “There is really nothing for you in town right now.”

Other books

Revolution 19 by Gregg Rosenblum
Berry the Hatchet by Peg Cochran
Daysider (Nightsiders) by Krinard, Susan
Twins by Caroline B. Cooney
Stray by Erin Lark
The Revenants by Sheri S. Tepper
Blood Never Dies by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
A River in the Sky by Elizabeth Peters
Small Magics by Erik Buchanan