Love at the Tower
Page 5
She was about to turn around and go back into the garden when she saw Nanny coming along the corridor.
“Nanny,” she cried out loud.
“What is it, Robina dearest?” she answered.
“Oh, Nanny. Papa does not love me any more!”
“Shhh, not in front of the staff,” she counselled and led her into the morning room that was also on that floor.
Once inside Nanny closed the door and sat next to Robina on the blue silk chaise.
“Oh, Nanny! Whatever can I do? Papa is intent on marrying me off against my wishes. Firstly my stepmother makes it plain she does not want me here and now, Papa. I don’t want to marry anyone, yet I feel as if I will be sent up the aisle at the very first opportunity. If and when I marry, I wish to marry for love and not for convenience.”
Nanny patted her hand and helped wipe her eyes as Robina cried profusely.
“My dear, I don’t know what to say to you. If your father wishes that you should marry, then that is his right.”
“But it is not my desire!”
Nanny paused and then rose and left the room.
When she returned she pressed an old photograph into Robina’s hand.
Tearfully, she looked at it – it was of her mother.
She stroked the image of the lovely young face with the wistful eyes.
“Mama would know what I should do now,” she whispered. “If she was here, she would persuade Papa not to marry me off. They married only for love and I cannot understand why he will not allow me the same privilege.”
Nanny touched her and again left the room.
Robina wept copious tears, stroking the photograph and raising her eyes to Heaven.
‘If you can hear me, Mama, up in Heaven, then I implore you – help me! Look down on me and take pity!’
She stayed there for ages talking to her mother and hoping, praying for an answer or divine intervention.
Marriage to a man she did not love!
Robina felt she would surely die if she was forced to do so against her will.
‘I will not allow it to happen to me,’ she resolved, looking up to Heaven. ‘Oh, Mama! Help me. Oh, how I need your love and advice.’
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day Robina visited the florist to order the flowers for her mother’s grave.
“Can it really be a year ago?” asked Mrs. Bentall, the lady who owned the shop. “It does not seem possible, and such a young woman. You must miss her terribly.”
“Yes, I do. I am often frightened that I will forget Mama. There are times when I cannot recall what her eyes were like or her smile.”
The woman nodded her head sadly.
“When I lost my own husband a few years ago, I experienced the self-same thing. But you do not forget – God gives us the strength to get through.”
Robina felt somewhat comforted, standing in Mrs. Bentall’s shop surrounded by beautiful blooms.
“And will you be placing the order for your father while you are here, too?” asked Mrs. Bentall.
“No,” responded Robina, a little taken aback that he had not already made his own arrangements.
“Will you tell him that he must get his order to me soon if I am to supply the flowers he prefers? He was so particular with the funeral tribute that I would not like to disappoint him.”
“Papa has much on his mind at the moment. I will remind him to pay you a visit.”
After she left the shop, Robina wandered along the High Street. The village was fairly large, almost a small town, and she knew every shopkeeper and tradesman in the place.
They smiled as she passed, saying how happy they were to see her again and it made Robina feel wanted.
‘It’s a fine thing when the village people make me feel more welcome than my own father,’ she ruminated, as she climbed back into her carriage.
She asked the coachman to take her home.
As they drove along the road, they passed the gates of Hampton Castle.
‘I must pay the Earl a visit very soon,’ she decided, as they sped past.
*
Robina had not slept at all well in the blue room.
She had felt so cramped, although she had to admit that it was much easier for Nanny as she no longer had to walk up and down stairs to look after her.
‘Poor Nanny,’ she thought, as they arrived home at last, ‘she is not getting any younger.’
She was so glad that Nanny had not been frightened off at the time when her father was at his most unpleasant.
She did not know what she would have done if she had returned to the house to find that Nanny had left.
Robina went straight to the library and saw that the door was shut fast.
She turned away disheartened. She had wanted to tell her father what the florist had said about ordering flowers.
Instead she went to the drawing room and rang for Newman. She did not wish to involve her stepmother in this affair as she considered it none of her business.
After relaying the reminder for her father to order flowers to Newman, Robina went back upstairs.
The house no longer felt as if it was her home.
On the first floor, where her old bedroom had been, the builders were beginning their work. She had not asked her father to see the plans in case he thought that she wanted to interfere.
‘I do wish that Papa would confide in me as he used to,’ she thought sadly, as she entered into her new room. ‘I would have liked the opportunity to show him how much I learned whilst I was in Paris.’
She recalled how Madame Lamont had delighted in teaching her how to mix colours in decorating a room and how to create beautiful displays.
‘The French have a way of putting things together that is effortlessly enchanting,’ she pondered. ‘If I cannot help Papa with his renovations and use my newly acquired talents, then perhaps the Earl will find them useful.’
She walked to her small desk and began to write a letter to him.
In it she said she intended to call on him the next morning and that she hoped it might be convenient.
She felt rather excited as she sealed the letter and then rang for Molly.
She was a new maid taken on to look after Robina, who only asked her to do things to save Nanny’s legs.
Molly came in and bobbed a curtsy.
“Yes, miss?” she said, her sulky mouth pouting.
Molly was round and moon-faced with the distinct air of someone who carried out her orders under extreme sufferance.
Robina did not care for her, but, as she was never rude, she put up with her sullen attitude and slow ways.
“Would you see that this letter is delivered at once, please?” she asked, handing over the letter to Molly.
The girl bobbed another curtsy and took the letter without looking at it.
Robina was convinced that the girl was spying on her and reporting everything back to her stepmother, so the less she knew, the better.
Suddenly the future did not seem so bleak.
She would see the Earl and, if he should accept her offer, it would give her something to concentrate on.
‘And maybe Papa will forget this nonsense about marrying me off. If he can see me visiting the Earl on a regular basis, perhaps I can use him as a smokescreen.’
A new plan was forming in her mind.
Surely her mother had come to her aid in giving her inspiration?
Feeling so much brighter, Robina went off to the stables to spend time with the horses.
‘Yes, that is it,’ she decided. ‘I shall let Papa and Stepmama think that there is something between me and the Earl and then, perhaps, they will leave me alone!’
By the time she reached the stables, Robina felt triumphant.
*
The next morning, Robina went down to breakfast to find a reply from the Earl waiting for her.
“My dear Miss Melville,” he wrote,
“I would be very delighted to greet you today and although
workmen are on site at present, I would indeed welcome the distraction and your wise counsel on points of decoration.
Warm regards, Robert Hampton.”
“Who is that from?” asked Laura, as she entered the room to see Robina engrossed in the letter.
“It is from Lord Hampton, asking me to pay him a visit this morning.”
“I trust you will be home for dinner tonight,” she responded tetchily, “we have an important guest.”
There was something in her tone that suggested that there was more to it than just a simple dinner.
“Of course I shall,” replied Robina, folding up the Earl’s letter.
“Good,” retorted Laura, “I have invited Lord Drury to join us and I want you to be extremely nice to him. He is a rich and powerful man whose wife has died recently, so he is looking for a new one. I think you will do him very well and I want you to look your prettiest.”
Robina stared at her across the table.
“You mean me to encourage this man?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And if I should not care for the gentleman?”
“It matters not whether you care for him or not – I am more concerned what he will think of you. Lord Drury would be such an ideal proposition for you and you would not want for anything.”
Aghast Robina looked at her father for reassurance, but he would not meet her gaze.
‘So I am to be sold off like a prize heifer!’ she thought, as she tried not to cry. ‘Well, I cannot refuse to meet him, but I can refuse to marry him.’
Robina remained silent for the rest of the meal.
She felt that her best course of action was to appear to agree while silently rebelling. Besides, if the gentleman proved to be interesting and kind, then perhaps she could take him into her confidence and he would not press her to marry him against her will.
After breakfast she changed quickly into her riding habit and before long was on her way to the stables.
“Good morning, Charles,” she called out brightly, as she watched him fasten Firefly’s bit and bridle.
“Morning, miss. I think he’s ready for the off. I swear he knew last night, he was that restless.”
Even as she rode off, Robina felt happier than she had done since she had returned home.
The very concept of involving herself in the Earl’s renovations was exciting and it would certainly occupy her mind far better than dwelling on the appalling prospect of the evening’s dinner.
Arriving at the Castle, Robina noticed that the place was a hive of activity. The builder’s cart was in evidence, as were numerous workmen.
As she led Firefly round to the Earl’s vast stables, she passed by the Tower in time to see the Earl and another gentleman emerge from the base of it.
“Miss Melville!” he cried, waving enthusiastically.
He said something to the man next to him and then ran towards her.
“Good morning. How beautiful you look today!”
Robina felt herself blushing – there was something in the way that the Earl looked at her that unnerved her.
He gazed deep into her eyes and held his gaze for longer than was strictly necessary.
“Come, take Firefly to the stables and then join me in the drawing room. I shall be finished shortly and I can show you my plans.”
He seemed as excited as a young child at Christmas and Robina admired the way he seemed to be so much in charge of everything.
She settled Firefly into a comfortable stall and then made her way to the front of the Castle.
It had been quite some years since she had last been inside and she was shocked at the deterioration she saw.
The wallpaper in the hall was peeling and had damp patches.
The Persian carpets were dirty and needed mending and she could smell an unpleasant mustiness.
Many of the fabrics were faded and threadbare and the furniture looked as if it needed a good polish.
She walked into the drawing room and it was not much better. The stones on the fireplace were chipped and there seemed to be loose floorboards wherever she trod.
‘Goodness!’ she murmured.
At that moment the Earl entered the room with the man who had been outside earlier.
“You will not mind if Mr. Garnett and I finish our business in here, do you? You may find it interesting to hear what we are discussing.”
He spread out his plans over a large mahogany table and began to discuss with Mr. Garnett whether or not to remodel the drawing room.
“The fireplace is in great need of repair and I am debating whether or not to have it demolished and a new one installed. Also the French doors are rotting, perhaps they should be replaced with ordinary windows?”
“Oh, no!” cried Robina, “don’t you wish to be able to see into the garden? This room requires as much light as possible as it is East-facing. I would think that it only gets the sun in the morning and becomes dull by lunchtime.”
The Earl looked at her in astonishment.
“You are quite correct and so, you believe that with normal windows, the room would feel gloomier?”
“Quite so,” answered Robina confidently.
“Then I will have new French windows built. And the fireplace, what would you suggest?”
Robina walked over and stroked it.
“This is Portland stone, isn’t it, and very old? I don’t think that a modern fireplace would be at all suitable. A stonemason may be able to redesign it and make it good. It would be a pity to lose such an intriguing feature.”
“Then that is exactly what I shall do,” declared the Earl, smiling at her.
He returned to the builder and they discussed more improvements with Robina adding her own suggestions.
After a while Mr. Garnett departed and the Earl rang for tea.
“Thank you so much,” he said, sitting down in the chair next to her, “your advice has been invaluable. I recall that you always had an eye for design, but I can see that your time in France has improved it.”
Robina looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“I cannot think what I did as a child to impress you – ”
“Your designs at Christmas and for all our birthday parties! Do you not recall how my Mama used to get us children to make decorations for the Great Hall? Yours were always so much better than anyone else’s. You had a talent for it even back then.”
She reddened and was grateful when Marriott, the Earl’s butler, brought in the tea.
“Now,” said the Earl. “Tell me what you think of the designs for the Tower.”
He brought out another massive sheet of paper and spread it out in front of her.
It was a complex design that remodelled the Tower, whilst still being in keeping with the style of the house.
“It is very interesting,” she remarked after studying it, “but I notice that you have not planned to install electric lighting.”
The Earl looked thoughtful for a moment.
“It is true that I want to have it put in to some of the rooms in the main part of the Castle, but I had not thought of the Tower.”
“Surely it would be most beneficial? I remember the rooms being dark as there are only mullion windows in the walls. It would not cost a great deal to install it, if you are already building a generator for the main house.”
“Thank you. It is such a brilliant idea,” enthused the Earl. “I had no idea you understood such matters.”
“The Lamonts were very progressive and they got rid of their gaslights some time ago in favour of electric.”
“I want the Castle to become the most modern and progressive building in the country! Furthermore, I have yet more plans for it once it is finished.”
“And what might they be?” she asked, intrigued.
“I want to open the Castle to the public and host luncheons and teas for the well-to-do. These renovations will all but drain my spare funds and I need to maintain the estate buildings and the grounds.
“Why? Although you have missed this year, surely you will be ready to welcome guests next year?”
“No,” he sighed, “I don’t have the time to write the letters and organise the whole operation.”
“I could do it all for you!” cried Robina. “Let me be your secretary. I have nothing to do at home now that my new Stepmama is running the house and I could work with you so that as soon as the renovations are complete, you could begin to welcome guests.
“And with my French connection – why stop at just English visitors? I speak fluent French and could conduct the tours myself. I also know German and could easily learn other languages.”
“Would you really?” he asked cautiously. “I would not dream of asking you to work for nothing and naturally, I would pay you.”
“It would be my pleasure,” she replied, believing this to be the answer to her prayers.
Working for the Earl at the Castle would provide the perfect backdrop to her make-believe courtship.
“Papa may insist upon a chaperone. Could I bring Nanny with me?”
“If it is a problem, I am sure that Mrs. Osidge would be grateful of the company.”
Robina did not like to tell him her ulterior motive – at least, not yet.
“Then it is all decided. When would you like me to start?”
“Well, there is a huge pile of letters in my study to be answered if you would care to begin at once.”
Robina sprang up from her chair,
“Lead me to them and I shall start now!”
Very soon they were in his study going through an endless pile of correspondence.
Robina looked at each one, asked for his response and then set to work on a reply.
‘I had quite forgotten how well we used to get on,’ she thought to herself as they made idle chatter.
“So, tell me more about your time in France,” asked the Earl later as they ate luncheon.
“Oh, it was not as exciting as your sojourn in India, I’ll be bound,” answered Robina laughing. “I think it is I who should be asking you about your adventures.”