The Birthright (22 page)
“No,” Anne said, so softly she barely heard herself. “No, you’re making perfect sense. Please continue. I want to hear this, truly.”
Nicole turned back toward the sunlight and the day dawning before them. “My studies have shown me that I need to find my happiness in God, and in Him alone. By placing my life in His hands and seeking to live as He wants me to, I now have a peace that’s greater than whatever struggle I might face. My frustrations and my difficulties, all these will pass. But He remains always. And it’s in His eternal promises that I must abide.”
“I…I don’t understand.” Anne had to disregard her own internal musings to take into account what lay behind Nicole’s words. “You’re not happy here? But you have—”
“Everything,” Nicole said quietly. “Yes, I’ve been granted many gifts.” She kept her eyes level, pointed toward what only she could see. “And with each gift there comes a responsibility.”
“But why—” Anne halted, then sat listening intently. She heard it again, the sound of a baby’s cry. Instantly she was on her feet. “I must go see to John.”
“Of course.” Nicole settled back, her face impassive.
But as Anne turned away a thought came to her. She looked at Nicole and asked, “Would you mind terribly if I joined you in these morning studies?”
Nicole displayed the day’s first smile. “There is nothing that would give me greater joy.”
Even the smallest of things in Charles’s life were somehow transformed since his return from America. When growing up, his family had never eaten breakfast together. His father had considered children to be fit for society only after they’d been brushed, dressed, and fed by the nanny. He realized now that his own nature had mirrored traits he never much cared for in his father, such as keeping a cold distance from others. This was one of many things Charles struggled to overcome now. But the habit of having his breakfast alone remained with him still. Yet this had now become his time to reflect, to study the Word, and often to confess.
These days he found himself spending a great deal of time on his knees, searching for ways to make restitution for his earlier life. Though Charles was very grateful for his remaining days, his remorse had become a wearisome burden nonetheless. It was only with Nicole’s coming to England that he had begun to feel a loosening of the grip that regret had on him. In Nicole he sensed someone who might become his future and carry on his purposes. This was not in the sense of living for him, but rather in helping to accomplish some of the things he was destined to leave undone.
Often Charles had to show restraint, for he was not a very patient man. And the strides Nicole had taken during her time with him were nothing short of remarkable. He realized how little progress she felt she was making, yet he knew better. Nicole was a woman now transformed. Charles was fairly certain she’d be coming into her own this summer, ready to move beyond the realm of polite society and share with him the greater scope—toward doing good and instituting positive change.
There were many duties he wished to discuss with her, challenges that, for the moment, he struggled with on his own. Currently in the House of Lords, Charles was fighting the issue of land enclosure, which threatened to force hundreds of thousands of families from their homes.
Then there was the war with the American colonies. Charles was one of the few Tories who advocated peace. It had cost him many friends and left him isolated. But he felt he was right—quite certain, in fact. These thoughts conjured up an idea of what to expect when they traveled up to London. As the day of their departure approached, the thought of what he might face caused Charles to wince from the pain in his chest.
He heard voices from the back garden now. Moving to the open window, he looked for anything to chase away any further thoughts regarding the course he had set for himself.
He caught sight of the two girls seated together. Once more he wondered at the difference in Nicole that Anne’s arrival had caused. Nicole had never been a particularly jubilant person, no surprise given her background. She had brought with her a discontented heart. Charles knew this, but never discussed it with her because he felt there was little he could do. Either Nicole would stay on and become his heiress, or she would sail back to Nova Scotia.
The possibility of her leaving sent another lancing pain through his chest. The pain hit more often now, so much so that he had learned to shrug it off as best he could. It would come, shoot through his ribs and twist his body in torment, and then be gone. But he knew time was running out for him, and that the issue of his successor had to be settled soon.
Watching the two of them as they talked helped to calm him. At first, Charles had been concerned about Anne’s visit to England, for she had brought with her a shadow of gloom. However, the change in Nicole could not have been greater. She had truly come into her own. She had cast aside her hesitant nature and rushed to care for Anne and her child, directing the staff to prepare the guest apartment so that Anne might feel comfortable. Charles realized that her caring for the bereaved woman had provided Nicole something she’d been lacking. For the first time since entering his manor, Nicole felt needed.
Then a sudden thought yielded a smile to Charles’s face, and he turned away from the window. He pulled on his housecoat and hurried for the stairs. After tapping on the door to the guest apartment, he called to the nanny, “Is his lordship awake yet?”
“Just listen to the little lad, I ask you.” The gray-haired nanny was Maisy’s sister, a woman of gentle disposition and mother to six of her own. “Kicking and cooing like he was the happiest boy on earth.”
“Leave us a moment, will you, please.” Charles stepped across the room to where the crib stood by the recently stoked fire. As soon as Charles’s face came into view, John gave him a beaming two-toothed grin and then increased his kicking motion. “Who’s my big boy, then? Who’s my jolly lad?”
The child waved his arms and gurgled with delight, for Charles was his favorite toy in all the world. Charles wore great shining buttons and took him on swooping rides around the nursery. John screamed with delight as Charles hefted him out of the crib. “Where would you like to go today, my lad? Ah, you want at my buttons, do you?” He held the child up close, so the tiny fists could close over his housecoat buttons in an effort to pull the spangles loose. When this did not work, John promptly fitted one of the buttons into his mouth and gummed it vigorously.
Charles laughed as he watched the boy slobber all over his front. He was astonished by the effect this infant had on his days and life. His greatest joys were found in the simplest acts now. He could spend hours upon hours with little John and never tire of his presence.
“Good morning, Uncle Charles.”
He spun around, embarrassed at being caught in such a silly position. “Your pardon, Miss Anne. I…did not wish to intrude.”
“How could you say such a thing? This is your home.”
“But these are your private chambers.” He pried the child loose from his housecoat. “Let go there now, John. That’s a good lad.” Reluctantly he offered the baby to his mother. “Never have I met a more adorable child.”
“He finds great delight in you, as well.” Anne smiled as the child bounced hard in Charles’s arms, excited now by the prospect of being held by his mother. For an instant, the shadows lifted, and a trace of the woman’s former beauty returned. She brought her face in close to the boy’s and cooed, “You are such a happy boy this morning, aren’t you? Yes, such a big happy boy.”
Charles started for the door, then paused and said, “We’re having a few friends over for a dinner tonight. Two families from outlying areas and the squire to the land north of mine. I know them all quite well. It would be a great honor if you joined us.”
Anne kept her face fastened on the baby’s. “Thank you for the invitation, Uncle. But I think not.”
“Of course. I certainly understand.” Charles hesitated a moment before deciding there was no harm in adding, “But perhaps it might help you if you were to come out occasionally and meet new people. Not to mention the aid and comfort you would offer Nicole.”
There was not any sharp transition, nothing Anne could point to that indicated where exactly she had made the turn. Instead, there was a gradual shifting of her world, so delicate it would have been easy to overlook completely. But Anne had no intention of permitting the change to go unnoticed. She asked Charles for one of his smaller leather-bound ledgers and used the fresh cream pages to begin recording her thoughts. She said it was to chronicle John’s growth, for indeed the baby seemed to be growing and changing daily. But in truth it was to mark her own revelations, soft and almost unbidden, yet coming to her just the same.
These revelations were especially evident in the mornings while she studied and prayed with Nicole. Sometimes John was there with them, adding his own little morning noises to their words. But usually Anne would feed him and either put him back down for a time or leave him with the nanny. The longer she studied with Nicole, the more she treasured their moments together.
April had turned into May, and so they decided to make the trip up to London. The social season actually began in late March, but Charles did not operate strictly according to others’ calendars. Furthermore, the war had been creating serious rifts within English nobility and the London scene. Charles had offended many of his former cronies by defending the colonists’ right to determine their own course. The result was that the social invitations dwindled both at Harrow Hall and in London. Neither Charles nor Nicole seemed to mind, however, and to Anne’s eyes, their days remained filled with an endless stream of visitors and activity.
Anne took to joining them for the formal dinners at home, and twice she accompanied them for evenings out when she knew the hosts and was assured there would be no dancing. She even grew accustomed to wearing her widow’s weave of black dress, gloves, hat, and half veil. The dark clothes afforded her some distance from everyone and the means to keeping herself slightly apart from the activities so as to fit gradually back into things. Eventually her sadness eased, and the terrible moments when it seemed she’d drown in her sorrow were now becoming memories. Her smile came more readily, too, especially when around young John.
The baby had but one bad week, when both the croup and teething had struck him at the same time. This occurred toward the end of their stay in London. In the blink of an eye, John went from an angel to a little red-faced screamer and remained so for eight long days and nights. Strangely enough, it was Charles who never seemed to lack the patience and fortitude to rise from his bed at all hours, lift the bawling child out of his cradle, and then pace the floor with him. The London townhouse was smaller, and noise carried to all the sleeping rooms. So Anne would often get up to the sound of John’s fretting only to find Charles already taking care of things. He’d be standing there for an hour and more, his nightshirt tucked into his breeches, dipping his finger in the peppermint oil and letting the baby gnaw on it. Only after the baby had drifted back to sleep would Charles return him to his cradle. Then he’d stand and rock the cradle till he was sure John was content.
It was on such a night, when all the house lay slumbering, that Anne threw on her quilted robe and joined him in the nursery. As she watched him lower the child gently into the cradle, then run one finger down the baby’s sleeping face, she whispered, “It’s a pity you never had children of your own.”
Charles’s speedy reply suggested he must have thought of this often. “Perhaps it was because I was not ready to be a father until now.”
Anne observed him in the light of the single candle. His weathered features looked gaunter now than when she’d last seen him in Nova Scotia. She saw in his face traces of Andrew’s kind strength. The two shared the same steady glow in the eyes. Then a wave of homesickness rose up inside and threatened to overwhelm her. Anne swallowed hard, shifted her thoughts, and asked, “What does the word
duty
mean to you, Uncle?”
His smile also resembled Andrew’s. “Strange that you would pose such a question in the night’s wee hours.”
“You’re right. I should ask another time.”
“No, no, it matters not. I am not sleepy, but I confess I am curious. Why duty, and why now?”
“It’s something Nicole and I have been discussing during our morning times, when we study and pray.”
“Ah. I think I understand.” He pondered a moment as he rocked John’s cradle. “Duty is what I am obligated to do. I have a duty to my country, to my fellow man, and to my God. These are the givens of my life. I am called to walk uprightly and to love my neighbor as myself. And I am called to love God and serve Him with all that I am and all that I have. These are not invitations, to alter or ignore at my whim. These are
duties
. These are the constants upon which I must base my actions.”
“I see,” Anne said quietly, “that you have thoroughly considered this, as well.”
“Many times, and especially now.”
She noticed the hardening of his features and asked, “Are you speaking of the war?”
“I am British to the core,” Charles replied. “This is the country of my king. Yet I have chosen to oppose England’s stand on the colonies. I am against this war. But I take this stand from within my homeland. I do not alter my allegiance. This has made for certain…well, difficulties.”
Anne reached out her hand. “You’re a very good man, Uncle Charles.”
He refocused on the night and the room. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you’ve come to stay with us for a time. If you will excuse me for saying, it appears that you are healing.”
She nodded, finally willing to admit it to herself. “I suppose I am.”
“In that case, perhaps we should make plans to travel to Wales and present young John to his father’s clan.”
In her surprise, she bundled the robe up tight to her neck. “What?”
“I have holdings there I haven’t seen in a long time. And it would make perfect sense to take the trip now during the summer. For travel will be more comfortable. Would you not agree?”