“Good night, Nanny, and thank you.”
“You will forgive me for not telling you about your Papa’s new wife?”
“Of course, Nanny.”
But Robina felt passionately that she would never understand why her father needed to remarry if she lived to be two hundred.
‘Papa cannot love me any more otherwise he would not have married her. He must have deliberately kept me in France so that he could enjoy her company without the encumbrance of me around. Will he come to the cemetery with me on Saturday or will he drag that woman with him? Surely he would not?’
She walked to her window and peeped through the curtains. Outside it was very dark and she wondered what changes her stepmother had wrought in the garden.
‘It must have been she who was responsible for the phaeton and that huge clock in the hall!’
She undressed and climbed into her bed – she was exhausted.
She thought of her stepmother and father enjoying an intimate dinner together.
‘I hope I spoiled their appetites,’ she grumbled and then immediately despised herself for being so ungenerous.
She still loved her father but this – this woman!
It was some hours before she eventually fell asleep. All she could think about was the strange new woman now living under the same roof.
*
The next morning, Robina feigned a headache and asked for breakfast in her room.
She was just taking the top off her first egg, when Newman knocked and came into the room.
“Excuse me, miss, but the Master wishes to see you in the library.”
Robina put down her spoon and hesitated.
“Very well. Will you please tell him that I shall be down as soon as I have finished breakfast?”
“Yes, miss.”
In the cold light of morning she bitterly regretted having behaved so hysterically the night before. She knew that her father could be an unforgiving man and she would have to throw herself at his mercy.
Fifteen minutes later, breakfast hastily eaten, she was downstairs knocking on the library door.
“Come in,” came her father’s deep voice.
She entered and threw herself down at his feet.
“Oh, Papa!” she howled, “I am so sorry for the way I behaved last night. Please, please forgive me!”
She dared not look up – she gazed at his shoes and noticed with some pleasure that he was wearing the handmade leather shoes that her mother had given to him a few Christmases ago.
After what seemed like an age, her father took her by the chin and raised her face up to his.
“Don’t kneel down on the floor, Robina, I expect that you were simply overtired from your journey and then you were overwhelmed by my news. Get up, please.”
She rose up and her father took her hand.
“Oh, Papa, I missed you so much,” she whimpered, as she tried not to cry.
“And I missed you, Robina. But you have to realise that my marriage to Laura is no reflection on my love for you. I was lonely and she helped me through a bad time.”
“Why did you not ask me to return home?”
He sighed and toyed with a jotter on his desk.
“I am afraid I cannot explain my reasons to you, but I want you to know that I thought of you every day.”
“But I am your daughter and my place is with you.”
Her father looked up as if to say something just as his new wife came into the room.
“Ah, my dear, there you are. Good morning to you, Robina. I trust you slept well?” she said coolly.
‘She speaks as if I was a guest in my own home,’ Robina fumed to herself. She noticed that her stepmother did not wait for an answer to her question.
She was behaving, in fact, as if Robina was not in the room.
“Darling, I do hope you will be here for luncheon as I have asked Mrs. Bailey to prepare your favourite soup and there will be fresh peaches for pudding.”
Robina looked at the way she caressed her father’s arm as she spoke to him – and in front of her!
‘Mama would never have made such a spectacle of herself!’ she thought.
Laura continued to ignore Robina’s presence as she cooed and fluttered around her new husband.
“Darling, I must be going,” said her father at last.
Robina looked up hopefully, but she was dismayed to see that her father was addressing his wife and not her.
He then bent forward and kissed her on the lips.
Robina shuddered and a chill ran through her heart.
‘They make me feel invisible,’ she thought, as her spirits sank ever lower.
As her father passed by on his way to the door, he threw a fleeting smile in her direction that made her feel as if she was begging for scraps.
She stood there feeling a little awkward. She was aware that Laura had remained in the room and was staring quite hard at her.
As the door closed, she took a step forward towards Robina.
“I am glad that we are now alone, Robina, because I think it is only right that I should speak my mind as early as possible.”
“Speak – your mind?” questioned Robina, not quite comprehending what she was trying to say to her.
“Yes, you must see, being alone so much with your father has meant that we have become very very close – in fact so close that we do not need anyone else except each other. Do you understand what I am trying to say?”
Robina looked at her stepmother blankly.
“I must confess I do not,” she said in such a quiet voice that it was barely audible.
“Robina, you are twenty and that is a dangerous age for a young girl. If you leave it too much longer, then I fear you will not find a husband. I am the Mistress of Trentham House now and having two ladies under the same roof of equal rank is not a happy situation. I think you should now make every effort to find a suitable match.”
“But I have no wish to marry yet.”
“Nonsense, it is every young girl’s dream!”
“It is not mine!” cried Robina. “And besides, Papa will never allow it. He has always said that I should marry for love and not for convenience or politics.”
Laura smiled in a superior fashion.
“I think you will find that he is of the same mind as I am on this matter,” she said smugly, holding Robina’s horrified glare without flinching.
Robina felt aghast. Surely what Laura was saying was not true?
Her father had always been so adamant that she should find love.
“We shall see,” was all she could manage to say before turning on her heel and walking out, leaving Laura on her own.
Robina knew there was only one place where she could think properly and that would be galloping across the fields on the back of Firefly, her stallion.
‘I should have gone straight to see him before I had breakfast,’ she told herself, making her way to the stables.
“Miss Robina. We’ve been expectin’ you.”
Charles the groom put down the bridle that he was mending and walked towards her.
“Firefly has missed you! He hasn’t been anythin’ like his old self since you left us.”
“I hope you have been exercising him regularly,” said Robina with a huge grin spreading across her lovely face. “He can be such a crosspatch when he is not given free rein across the fields.”
“I’ve had young Jack take him out every day, miss. He’s about the same height as you, although I think old Firefly knows the difference.”
“I should hope so. I would be very disappointed if anyone else was to win his heart. Now, where is he? I am longing to see him.”
Charles moved off towards the stable door and led Robina to a new stall towards the end of the building.
She noticed, as she passed the other stalls, that there was a new horse – a dapple-grey mare – chewing away on a bale of hale.
“Whose mount is that mare?” she asked, knowing the answer even b
efore Charles could answer her.
“That’s her Ladyship’s, miss. Her name is Pearl. Not that her Ladyship has much time for ridin’, the poor mare is no better than just decoration. Good job there be plenty of people to take her out to stretch her legs.”
“She is so pretty – if Firefly would not get jealous, I should like to take her out sometime.”
Charles chuckled as he held open the stall door.
“Old Firefly has quite taken a fancy to her, which is why we have put them in the next stall. He’s always had an eye for the ladies!”
Robina let out a loud cry of joy as Firefly poked his large black head through the stable door. He whinnied in response and appeared terribly excited to see his Mistress.
She threw her arms around the well-muscled neck and inhaled the familiar smell.
How sweet it was for her to be reunited with him.
“You handsome boy,” she crooned, “I have missed you so much. And what is this I hear that you have found yourself a lady love? Shame on you! You should know by now I would be jealous. Perhaps I shall take her out riding today and not you!”
The stallion nodded his head and appeared delighted at the attention.
“See, he has missed you, really, miss.”
“Tell me now, Charles. Has Papa been out riding recently?”
“We have not seen him much, miss, save for when he comes to show visitors round. Perhaps now that you are back home, he’ll be tempted to go a-ridin’ once more.”
“Hmm,” muttered Robina, “that is not like Papa.”
Secretly she was thrilled that her stepmother did not have the same enthusiasm for equestrian sports, as it meant that she could share something with her father that she did not.
Robina stroked Firefly’s nose thoughtfully.
“And Hercules, his mount? Is he well?”
“Aye, I reckon so. Misses his Master though.”
Charles looked down, realising that perhaps he had said more than he should have done.
“Don’t worry, Charles. I don’t take what you say as disloyalty. Papa has just remarried, I expect his mind is not on his horses at the moment.”
“Still, you are now back with us, miss, and no one except you and the Master can handle Hercules!”
Robina laughed softly.
The big old bay stallion was a handful indeed. But through much quiet patience and persistence, she had won his heart much to Firefly’s consternation.
“I don’t think that this fellow will forgive me if I take another horse out before he has a chance to feel the bit between his teeth. Come, let’s take him and saddle him up. I feel the need to be out in the hills.”
Charles shouted for Jack to bring the bit, bridle and saddle and as he did so, Robina heard a minor commotion at the other end of the stables.
“Oh, now what is it!” exclaimed Charles, shaking his head.
As he spoke, a handsome man on a chestnut horse came riding into the courtyard.
“I say, can you help me? My horse has lost a shoe and as I was passing, I thought you may be able to help.”
Robina looked up the man.
His thick wavy brown hair and startling blue eyes put her in mind of someone, if only she could remember whom.
She watched him as Charles bent down to take the horse’s hoof in his big hands.
“Aye, I reckon we can do it for you, my Lord!”
‘My Lord?’ thought Robina, staring at him.
The man jumped down from his horse and returned her long stare.
“Robina?” he called after a moment. “Is it really you? Could it be?”
It was then that she realised who the man was.
“Why, my Lord!” she exclaimed, laughing as the man picked her up and whirled her around.
“Goodness, how you are all grown up! Why, the last time I saw you, you were no more than a schoolgirl.”
Robina blushed to the roots of her hair.
“It has been so long since I last saw you.”
She looked at the tall handsome man before her and could scarcely believe that it was her old playmate, Robert, now the new Earl of Hampton.
“Yes, and I have been halfway around the world since then.”
Remembering that he as well had suffered a recent bereavement, she said,
“I was so very sorry to hear of the death of your father. It was not long after Mama became ill, was it?”
The Earl sighed and took on a pained expression.
“That is quite right. Father died in August and your Mama died the following year, did she not?”
“Yes, it is almost a year to the day.”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” said the Earl, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “I would have attended her funeral, but I was still away. But tell me, I heard that you were in France, so when did you return?”
“A few days ago. But I have not travelled nearly as extensively as you, I thought that you were still in India.”
“I was forced to return home quite recently. After Father’s death, I tried to keep my Army Commission and run the estate, but it was increasingly difficult. Ellis was never one for knuckling down to his duties and so, in order to prevent the house from falling into utter ruin, I returned home. For the past seven months the estate has kept me more than busy.”
“Do you miss India? It must be a fascinating place – so colourful and exotic.”
“It is indeed a wonderful country, but my place is at home. I have done my patriotic duty and with so much to do here, I did not feel it right to indulge myself playing at soldiers.”
“But you were not playing, I am quite certain. Her Majesty’s Empire has to be defended from the Russians.”
“It is one long battle that will not be won overnight. They persist in attacking our borders, but we kept them all at bay.”
Robina knew little of the current situation, but had heard talk of it in Paris.
She looked into his shining blue eyes and thought how clever he was. She did not remember him as being a particularly studious child – in fact she recalled that he was fond of sports and horses to the exclusion of all else.
Obviously he had changed a lot over the years.
As she watched him leading his horse to the smithy, she marvelled at how tall he had become.
The old Earl was a short stocky man and had never been particularly attractive even in his youth. She had seen a portrait of him on horseback at Hampton Castle and had smiled to see that he had barely altered.
‘Robert must take after his grandfather or an uncle,’ she mused, ‘as the Countess was not a great beauty either.’
A few moments later and the Earl strode back to where she was stroking Firefly.
“So is this your stallion?” he asked, clearly admiring the animal.
“Yes, it is. I missed him so very much whilst I was in France. The Parisians do not seem to adore riding in the same way as we do, certainly the family I was staying with were not at all bothered about equestrian sports.”
“And did you enjoy France? I must confess I have never visited Paris.”
“I did not like it at first, but I came to love it. It is a very interesting City with plenty to keep one amused.”
“Really?” replied the Earl, gazing at her lovely face intently. “Then I shall take your recommendation and visit Paris as soon as I can. Although I am not certain how soon that will be with my current plans for the Castle.”
“You are planning renovations?”
“Yes, much work needs to be done. My father was not interested in conserving the buildings and so it was left to crumble. The Tower is in a particularly dreadful state.
“Thankfully, my Uncle Sebastian bequeathed me a great deal of money in his will when he died last year and I will be able to use it to pay for everything. I have a fancy to open up the Castle to the public and hopefully this will make it pay for itself.”
“That sounds just so wonderful!” enthused Robina, “I would dearly love to see the old place ag
ain.”
“Then you must come and pay me a visit very soon. They say that the French have immaculate taste and I would be glad for your advice on the decor as you have been surrounded by nothing but the best for the past year.”
Robina blushed.
She found it difficult to meet his eye and, although she had always called him Robert when they were children, she found it almost impossible to be so familiar now that they had grown up.
“I would love to,” she murmured, casting down her eyes and blushing again.
They stood for some moments in awkward silence.
Finally Charles brought the Earl’s horse back.
“There you go, my Lord – we’ve fixed his shoe and he’s right as rain now.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
The Earl mounted and smiled down at Robina.
“Don’t forget – please come and visit me as soon as you are settled. I meant what I said about wanting your opinion.”
“I will,” she replied, shyly smiling back up at him.
With that the Earl spurred his horse into action and rode off with Robina watching him until he disappeared.
“He be a very fine man, the young Earl,” commented Charles, as he opened the door to Firefly’s stall.
“Yes, he is,” mumbled Robina pensively.
As she led Firefly out of the stables, she was almost overwhelmed with an intense sensation of longing to see the Earl again very soon.
“Come on, my boy,” she urged him, as she tried to push the Earl out of her mind.
But even as she rode across the rolling green fields, revelling in the sensation, the image of the handsome Earl refused to leave her mind for even a second.
CHAPTER THREE
As Robina galloped across the familiar countryside, she was filled with sorrow again that her mother was not here to enjoy the glorious landscape with her.
It had often been like this since her mother had died – she would see something lovely or interesting, and the first person she would think of sharing it with would be her.
Love at the Tower Page 3
