Mending Him (17 page)

“If these accusations are true, you hurt Robbie!” Phillip shouted now.

“Then the problem is between him and me.” Charles pushed his cane against the floor and stood heavily. Damn, his leg and hip were painful. He did not have any desire to collapse in front of Phillip or Samuel.

Robbie was the only one still sitting. “I wasn’t hurt, Uncle Phillip. I’m all right.”

“Not if what Samuel says is true. Is it? Answer me, dammit.”

Lie,
Charles begged him silently.
Just smile and lie, and we’ll leave without any more of this nonsensical drama
.
Let him read the damn book and tell him the desire you wrote about was only for Charles to witness, not be a part of.

Instead, Robbie raised his chin. “I care for Charles.”

Charles wondered which of the two cousins, Samuel or Robbie, was the greater fool. “He’s never done anything in this hall to shame you,” Charles said, dismissing their furtive kisses and embraces.

Honestly, this was all one person’s fault. He turned to study the guilty party. “Samuel, you’re a malicious sort of a brat, aren’t you.”

“You come into my house, misuse my hospitality, abuse my nephew and then think you have the right to malign my son?” Phillip’s voice was too high and tight.

“He did not abuse me,” Robbie said.

“Perfect Robbie is a pervert, Father,” Samuel said.

Charles really had had enough of him. He walked over with only the slightest limp now, drew back his fist and hit Samuel. He checked the blow—he’d boxed a little at university and knew how to put his full strength behind a punch. This was an openhanded, nearly genteel slap, but Samuel stumbled, then howled as if he’d been laid out and pummeled.

A moment later, Phillip had called for Stewart, and Charles was being hauled back to a chair and pushed down into it. Robbie protested, Samuel cursed and Phillip shouted.

Charles closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t indulged in the urge to hit Samuel, or perhaps he should have punched his fist into him a little harder.

The door to the office opened and slammed shut.

“What is going on in here?” Lenore demanded. “Samuel, your awful friend Jarrod Watersmith insists you have some sort of appointment with him, and he won’t go until you talk with him. I came to find you, and I could hear the noise from down the stairs and…”

She stopped speaking for a moment, then said, “Ah. You may go, Stewart, thank you for all of your work tonight.” Lenore waited until the footman left the room to continue. “It sounded as if you were having a brawl. In our house. Samuel, why is your cheek red?”

Samuel pointed at Charles. “He hit me.”

Lenore crossed her arms over her bosom and glared at them all, one by one. Charles was surprised he didn’t get even the lion’s share of her disgust. She saved that for her son. “I was going to send you to speak to your friend, but that is a distinct pattern of a hand on your cheek, and that won’t do. Robbie, please, perhaps you should go pay off Watersmith, since I’m sure that’s what he wants. Yes, don’t adopt that confused look, Samuel. I know about your gambling.”

Robbie rose to his feet slowly. “Certainly. The man’s still here, then?”

“If we give him fifty pounds, he’ll go away for now,” Samuel said. He gave a long sniff and rubbed at his pink cheek.

“I will attend to it. None of you move.” Phillip opened a desk drawer and grabbed a leather purse. He paused at his wife’s side and gave her a wan smile. “Of course I was not speaking to you, my dear. Please get back to our guests. I am so sorry.” He walked out of the room quickly, pulling the door shut hard behind him.

“Why would he say that he’s sorry? Except for your nonsense, Samuel, the ball went extremely well. Everyone told me again and again how lovely the decorations are.” She sighed. “Of course we shall have to cope with your foolishness. Oh, why did you behave so badly? During my ball too? You know how much I look forward to this.” She sounded her usual querulous self, which made Charles feel much better.

“I had to, Mother. I was trapped.”

She only shook her head. “And look how upset your father is.”

“Oh, that wasn’t because of me. Not at all.”

Charles moved over to Samuel and muttered, “Are you sure you want to talk about this? With your mother?”

But of course he did. Anything to wiggle out from under the weight of his mother’s disapproval. “I hardly like to tell you, Mother, but my father’s angry and upset about Robbie.”

“What? Why?”

Now Samuel looked uncomfortable. “Because of Robbie and Charles. They are… They have… They have an unnatural relationship. It’s disgusting.”

“What does that have to do with my ball being ruined with your thievery? And what do you mean? No, no, I beg of you, don’t tell me. I know they are good friends.”

“
More
than good friends.”

“Samuel, would you stop talking nonsense,” she snapped. “I’m sure that Robbie has been far more cheerful since Charles has come to our house, and we all can see he is a good influence on Charles.” She pursed her lips, no doubt remembering his disastrous arrival. “Anyone can see that you’re a better man than when you first arrived.”

Charles hid a smile. “Thank you, I agree,” he said.

“But, Mother, they kiss. Like—like a betrothed couple. And they do other things.”

“Samuel, you’ve been annoying enough this evening. We don’t need any more drivel from you. I fear you are drunk. Robbie, do take him to bed.”

“I don’t need
him
to help me to bed. He might try to do something to me.”

“Samuel. Enough! How many times do I have to tell you? Be quiet!” his mother ordered. “You are giving me a headache. Go up to your room. And don’t you dare show yourself in company, not with that red mark on your cheek.”

He slumped from the room.

Robbie began to speak, “Aunt Lenore, I’m sorry. I have tried to—”

She folded her arms. “I have no interest whatsoever in that nonsense he was discussing. I am sure it is none of my business, and I don’t wish to hear another word.”

Her gaze went to the door, then down at her purple gown, then she looked at Robbie. “What people do or don’t do is no one’s business. I find the subject utterly distasteful. You and Charles are obviously good companions, and more than that I do not wish to hear.”

Robbie ducked his head. “But I—”

“I am not interested.” For a moment, her mouth twisted into a sneer, or perhaps a smile. “If I should ever attempt to describe what happens when a husband and wife are alone, I beg of you to send me to a madhouse.”

She reached up with one gloved hand and touched a feather on the elaborate display of jewels, beads and feathers on her head. “This confection you designed for me received so many compliments tonight, I cannot begin to tell you, but I think it’s adding to my headache. I would like to go to bed as soon as possible. I can’t, of course, not until the last guest leaves or retires.” She heaved a sigh. “And all this business of Samuel sneaking about… It’s in such terrible taste. I suppose I should return to our guests.”

“Have a cup of tea first,” Robbie suggested.

“I’d love that, darling Robbie, but it will have to wait.” Her nostrils flared as she stifled a yawn. Charles felt the urge to yawn too. All of the
Sturm und Drang
seemed to be concluded for now, the storm quenched by the rather inane Lenore, although that was his old opinion of her. Now he couldn’t help thinking that she was most sensible of the Chester lot, followed by Gemma.

They paused before heading back to the ball and shouldn’t have, because a moment later, Phillip came into the room. He slammed the door behind himself and slapped the purse onto the desk. The way he folded his arms looked very much like his wife’s indignant posture. He echoed her with the words, “As if I already didn’t have enough on my plate. You two gentlemen”—and the way he drawled that word said volumes—“are now polluting my home. That problem, at least, I can easily dispose of.”

Charles looked at the pale Robbie and wished he could go mutter something encouraging to him. Something cheery like
buck up
or perhaps a filthy joke would do the trick.

Lenore’s voice was shrill. “Phillip, don’t you start with the disgusting insinuations, or I shall scream. I promise you, I will.”

Phillip stammered, “Oh. Ah. My dear, I didn’t see you. That is, I thought you would have gone to our, ah, other guests. There are still a few guests here, and I think you should attend to them at once.”

“I was about to do just that. Robbie, Charles, if you would please escort me back to the ballroom. I’m sure the way the family abandoned our guests is most peculiar. Do get your cane, Robbie. Your leg must be bad tonight.”

“They will not go among our guests,” Phillip began.

“I was entirely serious when I said I would scream,” Lenore said in a loud, quavering voice. “Charles and Robbie are the only men in this family who have behaved with any decorum tonight. The way they came to my aid with the sisters should earn them a medal—oh Lord, Phillip get out of my way. I
shall
scream when I think of my son.”

She wrenched open the door in a most unladylike manner and stormed out of the room. The silence after her exit was sudden and absolute for a full minute, only the distant sounds of the orchestra disturbing it.

Phillip exhaled audibly and rubbed a hand over his face before finally speaking, and he continued to look at the surface of his desk rather than at either Charles or Robbie. “I do not pretend to understand your behavior, how it is even possible for—” He raised a hand, cutting off the thought. “But it doesn’t matter. This is what will happen next. You will both pack all your things and leave here tomorrow. There will be a train to the city in the afternoon. You will be on it.”

“Yes, sir,” Robbie murmured.

Charles looked over at his friend’s lowered face and chastened expression. His heart ached at the sadness in his gray eyes. He would do anything to alleviate it. “Please, Cousin, don’t punish Robert for this. If you cut him off, send him away without a reference or financial assistance after all he’s done for you, now
that
would be a crime.”

Phillip glared at Charles at last, his eyes on fire. “Don’t presume to tell me how to deal with my nephew,
Cousin.
I do not forget Robbie’s years as a member of this family, nor would I destroy him due to behavior I believe was brought on by your tainted presence. I will make his introduction to several of my friends in the city as promised. A position at one of their companies will provide him with future security.”

He turned his attention to Robbie, and a look of such heartbreak contorted Phillip’s face that Charles nearly felt sorry for him. “You have been as a son to me these many years, and so I will continue to watch over you as a father would any son. I would not see you continue down this road to ruination. My agent in the city will help you find suitable lodgings. For
one,
is that understood? Any further friendship between the two of you must cease. If I learn Charles has been a visitor to your rooms, I will withdraw my support.”

Phillip drew a breath, and Charles almost rushed in to fill the pause with protests. He wished Robbie would do it, speak up for himself, insist that he would live his life however he damn well pleased. But Robbie spoke not a word.

“Because your Aunt Lenore and the younger children love you so dearly, I will not banish you forever from our home. You may return for holidays and occasional visits. But again, if I learn of
any
interaction between you and this man, or any other man, my offer is rescinded. Is that clear?”

Robbie lifted his chin at last and gazed directly into Phillip’s eyes. “Yes, Uncle, I understand. What about Charles?”

“I will give him assistance too while he finds employment, although I can’t imagine any position you’re suited for.” He directed his angry glare back at Charles. “Now, I am very tired and have nothing more to say. Both of you may go.”

The old Charles would have had so much to say. In his pride and arrogance, he would never have allowed anyone to speak to him in such a manner. But the new Charles recognized that, as much as it galled, he was greatly beholden to a relative whom he had deeply wounded. Further words right now would benefit no one. He dug the tip of his cane into the carpet and dragged his weary bones upright.

Robbie did the same. He spared Charles not so much as a glance before leaving the room. The ache inside Charles deepened as he watched his lover walk away from him. The symbolism of that exit was not lost on him, and he felt as if a chasm had opened between them, some great ravine without a bridge to cross it. Those ephemeral moments with Robbie were over, and a long, lonely road stretched before him.

Chapter Eighteen

When changes happen in life, they often rush at one quickly and unexpectedly, Robbie mused as he removed shirts from his wardrobe and packed them in his trunk brought down from the attic. Sometimes those changes rode in on a carriage, drunk and loud and overbearing. Other times they took the form of a quiet voice delivering an ultimatum and ending a lifelong relationship. Even if he came to the hall at Christmases to see Gemma, Bertie and Lenore, Robbie realized his uncle considered him as good as dead. That fatherly presence he’d so admired and loved over the years no longer cherished him in return. The abrupt loss hit him like a blow to the stomach, and, although none of it was Charles’s fault, Robbie couldn’t deny his anger at Charles for instigating the changes which had led to this. True, with Samuel’s return, Robbie would have left eventually, but not under a cloud of darkness and humiliation, and with his uncle’s condemnation ringing in his ears.

He jammed the shirts down deep into the chest to make room for trousers and tried to imagine himself wearing these clothes in some other life, perhaps working as an accountant in a dreary, windowless office. Robbie recognized his glorious indulgence in self-pity for what it was, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it. Probably he should have forced himself to get some sleep instead of immediately starting to pack in the middle of the night. He was too tired, that was his problem. The wave of anger at Charles had passed, and he knew he could never hate Charles. In fact, he wished he dared go to the room so close to his and see the man who had changed his life, but under the present circumstances, it wasn’t wise.

Anyway, they would have the entire train ride to London during which to talk and plan some sort of future together. For, despite Phillip’s conditions, Robbie knew he
would
find a way to be with Charles. Even at the risk of destroying his relationship with the rest of his family, that was a given. For better or for worse, as the sacred vow went, he and Charles were now a pair.

By the time Robbie had packed away the last of his possessions—which included boxing every reminder that he’d ever lived in this house to be stored in the attic or perhaps burned with the rubbish—morning light shone into his room. He went to the window to gaze at the sunrise, perhaps his last under this roof. His room, his home no longer.

Robbie washed up and put on fresh clothes for the new day, the day he would travel by train to an uncertain future. Suddenly, instead of making him feel a bit queasy, he was filled with excitement at the prospect. A bright morning could lift one’s spirits, making anything seem possible.

He gathered up the keepsakes he’d saved for Bertie and Gemma. He had a slingshot for Bertie, which the boy had always coveted. It had been Robbie’s as a lad. He hadn’t given it to his cousin before now because he’d doubted the boy’s responsibility in using the weapon. A little chat about not harming animals would be in order before he surrendered the slingshot into Bertie’s possession.

His other gift was for his darling Gemma. She was too young to care about it now, but might someday, as a remembrance of the cousin who loved her. And, just in case the gift of his sketchbook and drawing implements might prove disappointing to a small child, Robbie also added a book of fairy tales with colored illustrations, which he’d purchased for the upcoming Christmas. Let her enjoy it early. He would buy something else for her later, although he may have to send it by post if he was banned from the house for the holidays.

With his presents in hand, Robbie started up toward the nursery to find the little girl he knew would already be awake and having breakfast with Nurse Mary. But when he arrived, the large room was empty. A peek into Gemma’s small bedroom showed the messy and empty bed. A chill of unease swept through him as he walked through the vacant rooms. The hairs on his neck prickled, warning that something was wrong here, and when he came out into the hallway, Mary’s frantic arrival proved his suspicion true.

She practically flew up to him, her hair straggling from under her cap, her eyes wide and her face red. “Is she there? Has Gemma returned? Oh please, Mr. Robert, say that you took her for an early morning walk and have brought her back.”

“Gemma is missing? She’s probably out in the stable with her dogs or perhaps playing hide-and-seek with you. I shouldn’t worry too much, Mary.” But his nagging sense of unease grew.

Mary forgot her place and snapped at him. “Of course I checked all her usual spots. You may believe I let her run wild, but I’m not a fool. I know my little girl. I’ve had all the staff combing the house for her, and she’s nowhere to be found. Nowhere!”

Robbie racked his brain. “You know how excited she was by the ball and the houseguests. Maybe she slipped into one of the guest’s rooms and fell asleep underneath a bed or in a closet.” This large dwelling had a lot of nooks and crannies.

Mary threw up her hands. “What am I to do? I can hardly go door to door, waking the guests and asking if anyone’s seen Gemma.”

“It’s too soon to raise a search party. She might pop up at any moment,” Robbie said. “Did you check the garden? You know she’s made herself a little house underneath the branches of the weeping cherry.”

“Yes. We’ve scoured the garden and all the outbuildings.” Mary paused, and a new frown creased her forehead. “Would she have dared go beyond the yard?”

“Possibly.” Robbie led the way downstairs with Mary treading heavily behind him. “You haven’t informed the Chesters yet?”

“No,” Mary panted. “Not until I’m certain there’s a need to worry.”

“And how long ago did you discover her missing?”

“First thing this morning. She wasn’t in her bed. It was about six o’clock. Miss Gemma rises early, the sweet little thing, always so happy to greet the n-new d-day.” Muffled sobs came from behind him. “None of our guests are awake yet, say the maids, but should we go door to door?”

“Now, now, Mary. This is no time to lose composure. Nothing has happened to Gemma. She will turn up shortly.” Robbie spoke calmly, as much to reassure himself as to comfort her. But it was nearly eight o’clock. For always hungry Gemma not to show up for breakfast was worrisome.

Robbie and Mary took the servants’ staircase. He had no desire to run across either Lenore or Phillip, although likely after the night’s exhausting events they’d still be abed. For Mary’s sake, it was better to resolve this situation without involving the family.

In the servants’ dining hall off the kitchen, Robbie conferred with the butler, Mr. Falston, and Mrs. Jackson, the housekeeper. Several maids and footmen lingered nearby, eager to be involved in the morning’s excitement.

“Stewart.” Falston summoned the footman from lurking. “You checked the stables? No one saw Miss Gemma there playing with her wee doggies?”

“No, sir.”

“Could she have curled up in one of the carriages, fallen asleep and traveled home unnoticed with one of our guests?” Mrs. Jackson suggested. “With young Gemma, all things are possible.”

A clamor of possibilities arose as every member of the staff, down to the scullery maid, had some insight to offer. At last Robbie raised a hand to silence them.

“To start with, I will get Daisy. Likely the dog will lead us to Gemma, wherever she is.”

“Unless she’s indoors,” Rose, the second maid, muttered, and Mr. Falston quelled her with a look.

Robbie went to put on his coat and hat and headed across the yard toward the stables. He was nearly there when a familiar voice called after him, “Robbie. Wait.”

He glanced back to see Charles moving toward him with an ungainly stride, a bit like a sailor used to the pitching deck of a ship. Robbie waited for him to draw closer, then called out, “Gemma’s missing. More than usual. The servants and I are searching for her.”

“Let me help.” Charles strode a little faster. “Perhaps Daisy can track her down.”

“That’s why I’m going to the stables. If you want to help, I’d appreciate it if you’d take charge of things in the house. She could well be there or in the gardens. Lenore and Phillip will soon be up, as well as the houseguests. I don’t wish to alarm them prematurely, but at some point, we may need to organize a search party.”

Charles frowned. “You think it might come to that?”

“I don’t know.” Robbie had been feigning confidence for Mary’s sake, but now his creeping sense of anxiety resurfaced. “I feel as if something may be wrong.”

Charles nodded curtly. “All right, then. I’ll handle things at the house, and you search with the dog.”

For one more moment, they stood looking at each other. Charles’s hair blazed like copper in the bright sunlight. His brown eyes were fierce and his handsome jaw set. He opened his mouth as if to add something, then closed it again, nodded and turned to walk back to the house.

Robbie went into the cool darkness of the stable, where horses chuffed quietly in greeting from their stalls. The earthy scents of hay and dung enveloped him. He called out, and Forrester came from the rear of the building.

“Has Miss Gemma turned up yet?” Extra seams of worry carved Forrester’s already wrinkled brow. He stroked his tobacco-stained moustache in a habitual gesture.

“No. And you’re sure she wasn’t here to visit with the dogs this morning?”

“No one saw her. Dickie. John,” he called and the stable hands appeared like summoned genies. Both hands confirmed that they hadn’t laid eyes on the child.

The trio accompanied Robbie out to the kennels behind the stable, where hunting hounds used to be kept. Since the current Mr. Chester wasn’t a hunting man, several mixed-breed mutts now occupied the runs.

Robbie counted five, including the bitch which had whelped Daisy and a couple of her progeny. The rest of the pups had gone to new homes. Robbie moved close to the fence and reviewed the pack again. Daisy was not among them.

“She’s taken her dog out. You didn’t notice?” he demanded. Then he remembered the scene when Lenore had banished the dog from the house. Perhaps Gemma had gone out to rescue the dog and had taken it for a walk.

“Uh.” Dickie scratched his head.

Robbie exhaled a breath and tried to release his anger at their stupidity along with it. “This means she’s someplace outside, or someone would have heard that dog by now.” He looked across the pasture to the woods beyond. “I think it’s time to organize the staff and expand the search.”

One couldn’t call upon the entire staff to abandon their posts and begin searching for a missing child without the lady of the house noticing that something was amiss, especially when a half dozen guests had been awakened to have their rooms searched as well. After Robbie informed him of the progression in the situation, Charles took it upon himself to find Lenore and tell her of Gemma’s disappearance. She flew into a panic and nearly required smelling salts to revive her as she swooned.

Charles guided her into a chair. If she bore any ill will toward him or, indeed, any memory of the previous night’s drama, Lenore addressed Charles as she normally would.

“Have they checked the attic? Gemma loves to explore.”

“The attic, the cellar and every place in between,” Charles assured her. “It’s become quite clear that Gemma isn’t in the house or the gardens. The fact that she’s probably taken her dog suggests she’s gone someplace farther afield than normal. The woods are the most likely place, since she’s expressed great interest in the games Bertie and his friend play there.”

Click. A simple, obvious thought dropped into place in his mind. “Bertie’s fort! That’s where she’s trying to go.”

He squatted beside Lenore’s chair. “I think we can’t keep this news from Phillip or the company. It would be best to let everyone know. Shall I inform them for you?”

Lenore fluttered the handkerchief she’d been wiping her eyes with. “Yes, please. I’m…distraught. I hardly know what to do.”

So much for the temporarily forceful woman who’d shown herself last night, Charles thought. He hurried toward Phillip’s office, his leg seeming to ache more with every step since it was the last place in the world he wanted to go. He knocked, then went inside.

As expected, Phillip and Samuel were in conference. Mr. Todd was not present. Both father and son looked up upon Charles’s entry and he was struck by the similarity in their appearance, two blond, blue-eyed Chesters with nearly three decades difference between them. Charles felt he could see what kept them apart, besides the obvious fact of Samuel’s irresponsibility. Phillip had forgotten what it was like to be so young, and Samuel couldn’t begin to imagine being so old. They had no common ground.

“May I help you?” Phillip asked coolly. “Are you ready to leave for the station?”

Charles almost smiled. It was midmorning, and the next train wouldn’t leave until late afternoon. Phillip couldn’t wait to see the back of him. “No. I’ve come to tell you something. About Gemma.” He paused, searching for better words, but there was no good way to break such news. “She’s gone missing this morning, and it’s become clear she’s nowhere in the house or on the grounds. The servants are organizing to search the woods.”

Phillip rose. “What? My daughter is missing and I’m the last to be told?”

“Gemma has a habit of playing hide-and-seek,” Charles soothed him. “Until everyone was certain she was truly gone, there seemed to be no point in worrying you.”

“Lord, but she’s a little scamp,” Samuel said. “And Mary is useless with her. She’s too old and fat to be looking after children any longer.”

She’s not that old, and Gemma is exceptionally active for a girl.
Charles found himself wanting to defend the servant, but he bit back the words. “It’s occurred to me that she’s trying to find Bert’s fort. If he could lead us there, it might be a good beginning point.”

Samuel stood by his father’s side. “I’ll find her, Father. She’s my sister. We don’t need these outsiders directing us on what to do. And neither one of them could walk in the woods anyway.”

The little blighter had a point. Neither Charles nor Robbie would be of much use tripping over roots and logs and uneven ground when they could barely walk straight on smooth floors. Being a part of the search was clearly not possible for either of them.