“Stay with me tonight,” Mrs Adams said suddenly. “I need to go on an errand this afternoon, but other than that I have no engagements. I shall send a note over to Peter; he knows that I would never encourage you to leave him, so there is no issue with spending some time with an old family friend.”
“I’m not sure….” Rosalind started, she had promised Peter that she would not run away again; it was the promise that had kept her from returning to her parent’s house. That and the fact that her father’s outburst would be far worse than any that Peter had uttered over the last weeks.
“If you go back will you tell him?” Mrs Adams asked.
“No,” Rosalind replied honestly. The conversation of the morning was enough to prevent her mentioning anything anytime soon.
“Well it is settled then,” Mrs Adams responded firmly. “I will get the housekeeper to see you to your room: have a lie down for the afternoon; you look like you are fit to drop.”
Rosalind smiled, “I am tired; I haven’t been sleeping well, I admit.”
“I can tell,” came the cutting reply.
Chapter 23
Mrs Adams had no previous appointment. She was going to visit the existing Duke of Sudworth to give him a piece of her mind. How he could not have seen the changes in his wife she had no idea, but it was about time he stopped worrying about those who were dead and concentrated on those who were alive.
Peter was out with his steward when Mrs Adams arrived, but she told the butler that she was not going to leave until the Duke returned. Peter therefore was directed to the drawing room as he walked into the hall. Mrs Adams was seated on the sofa nearest the fire, enjoying a cup of tea.
“This is an unexpected surprise; I thought Rosalind was visiting you,” Peter said as he crossed the room and gave the lady the usual kiss on the cheek in greeting.
“She did pay me a visit and, as a result, she is going to stay with me tonight,” Mrs Adams said.
“Why?” Peter asked, surprised and a little wary. Rosalind had not mentioned anything of the sort before she left. It was an unusual occurrence to stay in a house barely two miles away from home.
“Have you gone blind since we last met?” Mrs Adams responded tartly. “Your wife is exhausted; she entered my house as pale as a ghost and looking just as haunted.”
Peter started to rise from his seat, alarmed that Rosalind might be ill. “I need to….”
“Sit!” came the authoritative command. “You need to sit right there and listen to what I have to say.”
“But if Rosalind….” Peter started again.
“Rosalind will be fast asleep by now; you would only cause even more trouble if you disturbed her,” Mrs Adams snapped.
“I feel as if I am being accused of something of which I have no knowledge,” Peter said, matching the tone of Mrs Adams.
“That seems to be your problem,” Mrs Adams continued. “You have been so wrapped up in how you’ve been badly done to by your relatives that you’ve failed to see what is right under your nose!”
“Mrs Adams, I don’t like riddles; I beg you speak plainly!” Peter said, frustrated.
“You have taken every opportunity to complain about Robert and Philip, God rest their souls, but you can’t use them as an excuse forever. It is time to leave them behind and focus on the future,” Mrs Adams said firmly.
Peter stood and started to pace around the room. “Have you any idea of what you are accusing me of?” he asked, his tone betraying his disbelief.
“I don’t speak because I like the sound of my own voice!” Mrs Adams replied tartly. “Of course, I am aware of what I am accusing you of, and I stand by it.”
Peter looked as if he could barely contain himself. “I did not get this family into the mess it was in only a few months ago! I was forced into a marriage that I didn’t want with someone who wanted the match as little as I did. Now our world has been rocked by the appearance of what looks like a legitimate heir who will cause the loss of our home if Mr Johnson decides that he wants his money back, making us all homeless. So, yes I am using my brother and father as the reason I am not happy with the way my life is at the moment!”
“Some would say you have been lucky,” Mrs Adams retorted.
“Lucky?” Peter said, incredulous.
“You have Rosalind; Annie is healthy and happy: what more do you need?” came the no-nonsense reply.
Peter paused, “Yes, I am thankful for those things; Rosalind has been the best thing that has happened throughout all of this, but now it appears that she is going to be stripped of her title: the title that she should have.”
“She never coveted any title. From the little she has said about her own family, all she has ever wanted is a family of her own,” Mrs Adams said more gently. Peter had passed the first hurdle by being indignant on his wife’s behalf.
“And yet all that is happening is that we are cursed with Robert’s offspring,” Peter said darkly.
“You have far more than Robert ever had,” Mrs Adams said. “I know he used to be your tormentor. Anyone could see how he punished you; your father thought it was character building with your nature being of the gentler kind, but you always had what Robert wanted.”
“And what was that?” Peter said.
“You had more of your mother inside you than he did; it may not have seemed much, but he was very jealous of you. Every time you look in the looking glass, you have a reminder of your mother; he was like Philip in every way, so his father looked back at him whenever Robert saw his reflection. When he was smaller he only ever wanted her approval; he idolised her, but Philip ridiculed him, so he hid his affection. For some reason Philip wasn’t as strict on you as he was on Robert; you were able to have the relationship with Marianne that Robert wanted.”
“I didn’t realise,” Peter admitted, mulling over the thought of a different side to his brother.
“You were too young, I suppose,” Mrs Adams continued. “Marianne worried about Robert, but there was little she could do, especially after Annie was born. All her energy was taken up with defending her.”
“Robert was cruel to Annie most of the time,” Peter reminded her.
“Yes, but by that time, his character was set. He was a copy of Philip in every sense of the word.”
“Why didn’t he change after father died?” Peter asked, not fully convinced.
“I’ve no idea; perhaps it was fully ingrained at that point, or perhaps he was still punishing you. We will never know now,” Mrs Adams said.
“I suppose not,” Peter admitted. “It doesn’t alter the fact, though, that he has produced two children when he should have behaved more responsibly.”
Mrs Adams’s mouth set in a thin line, but she answered calmly enough. “With Joan, yes, he should have been more responsible; but if this marriage proves to be legitimate, he was within his rights to have a child.”
“He needed to marry someone with money; marrying someone without a fortune was irresponsible.”
“Perhaps he met someone who would have given him more than money. Rosalind said that she seems a sensible woman, a little over-dramatic perhaps but not at all like Joan,” Mrs Adams countered.
“Maybe, but what about Annie?” Peter demanded. “She may still be forced to move.”
“If that is the case, as long as she is with Rosalind and yourself, she will cope. She is stronger than you give her credit for,” Mrs Adams defended her Goddaughter.
“I don’t share your confidence,” Peter responded.
“Time will tell, but you need to start living your own life instead of hanging on to the past,” Mrs Adams insisted.
“And how do I do that?” Peter snapped.
Mrs Adams bristled: she had been understanding; now it was time for the man before her to face up to his responsibilities. “You could start by being a father to your child.”
“What?” Peter said, stopping the pacing that occurred each time Mrs Adams said something that maddened him.
Peter slumped into the nearest chair. He felt as if his legs would not support him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve thought Rosalind looked a tad peaky for a while, but I’d just put it down to what happened with Annabelle and then the arrival of the Dowager Duchess; but today, the moment she walked in I guessed what was amiss,” Mrs Adams explained.
“Rosalind never mentioned anything,” Peter said, but it was obvious that his words were not aimed at Mrs Adams; they appeared to be aimed more at himself than anyone else.
“Why do you think she hasn’t mentioned anything?” Mrs Adams snapped.
Her tone of voice was enough to focus Peter’s attention on his friend. “I have no idea; I thought we had overcome the initial reserve we both felt with each other; obviously not.” His words were slightly bitter.
“Sometimes Peter I want to hit you about the head with something heavy!” Mrs Adams snapped. “What have you been repeating time and again to that poor girl?”
“I don’t know,” Peter said, bewildered. His mind was running from one incoherent thought to another, and Mrs Adams was still driving him to distraction by being obtuse and difficult.
“Well let me tell you: You have been wittering on about the blood lines dying out, which was a ridiculous thing to say the moment you married. You have cursed Robert for having children, so when the poor woman realises that she is increasing, what is she meant to think? That you would be pleased at the news? If you think that, you are the biggest fool in your family!” Mrs Adams said, taking some enjoyment at the look of shock on Peter’s face, but he had also flushed at her words. Mrs Adams hoped that finally she was making him understand.
“I didn’t think,” Peter said eventually.
“No, but yet, you condemned Robert for acting in the same manner. It is far too easy to blame others, but now is the time when we truly see what type of man you really are,” Mrs Adams said, standing. “I’m going to return home now. I suggest that you think over what we have discussed today. If we don’t hear from you tomorrow, I will support Rosalind in returning to her father.”
“She is talking about returning to her parents?” Peter asked, another blow being struck.
“She didn’t have any other option to think about, did she? Your words suggested that the last thing that you would ever want was children. A pity you didn’t think about that before you bedded your wife!” The look of shock on Peter’s face would keep Mrs Adams chuckling for many days, but she kept a straight face and bid him good day. She was reassured that Peter was so disturbed by her words that he did not even rise and offer his bow as she left. Finally he would have to decide what was truly important to him.
*
Peter did not move from his seat for an age. He was stunned by the whole of Mrs Adams’ tirade. There were so many revelations in her conversation his mind did not know which to try and process first. He was going to be a father. Those words seemed to be the ones that were circling round and round. He could hardly believe it, but before he could think of that he had to reflect on everything.
He stood and walked to the library; he had the need to be close to his mother. After pouring himself a brandy he stood in front of the fireplace, looking at her picture.
“I’ve been too focused on the wrong things Mama,” he said quietly to the picture. “I wish I could speak to you now.”
The figure in the painting continued to look at him with her joyous smile, and Peter could not help smiling in return. He remembered the sound of his mother’s laughter when she played with him. She had always thrown herself into whatever game he wanted, clambering down on the floor to be better involved. She had been a wonderful mother; it was time he showed her that he was a wonderful son.
Chapter 24
So Robert had been jealous of him? Peter would never have guessed, but he supposed it did make sense. They were both frightened of their father; they had just handled it differently. He began to feel some sympathy for Robert: if he had craved attention from their mother but been mocked by his father, he must have had a very lonely childhood. Peter supposed it was also a blow that every time Robert had looked at him, Robert would have been reminded of his mother and the relationship that she shared with her second son.
Poor Robert, Peter thought. Perhaps in some way, Robert had wanted to destroy the family when his father died. Peter sighed; he would never know, but there was a small possibility that Robert had the same or similar bitter feelings towards his heritage that Peter had developed recently.
He poured another brandy and sat down, undoing his frock coat and allowing it to fall open. If Robert had married the woman they all now considered the Dowager Duchess, he would not have done it out of spite; that was for sure. If he had wanted to marry just anyone, he would have married Lady Joan, but he had not. Peter still had the suspicion that Robert had used Lady Joan, something for which he could never forgive him; but if he had married, it was for love.
Peter finally realised what he wanted from his life: he wanted Rosalind, their child and somewhere else to live. He actually wanted to rid himself of the title and the heritage that had almost cost him his wife and unborn child. He stood; it was time to make firm plans as to how everything was going to be fixed.
*
The staff were on high alert. Something was happening, and it was not clear what it was as yet. The Duke had been sending express correspondence throughout the night, issuing each with clear instructions that the riders were not to return without a reply.
The morning did not offer any clue as to what was happening, their master remaining ensconced in his study. It was earlier than normal when the family solicitor arrived, looking flustered and slightly unkempt; it had been a very early summons that he had received.
Once again, the study door was closed, and the staff were left to wonder what was happening in the Sudworth family. If the last few years were anything to go by, it did not bode well for anyone.
*
Rosalind had not had a good night’s sleep. She missed Peter at her side. Who would have thought that the man who had been a stranger only months before was now the person responsible for her being content at night?
She sighed as she dressed, her peace not so easily won. It had felt like a relief when she agreed to stay with Mrs Adams; she had been living in dread that Peter would notice that she was increasing before she plucked up the courage to tell him.
The problem she faced was that she did not want to see the look of disappointment in his features when she told him her news. She could never feel anything but joy at the thought of being a mother, but she selfishly wanted Peter to want their child as much as she did.
In reality, it was an impossible dream; he had made his feelings quite clear on the subject of children from the Gilbert line. She straightened her shoulders; she had remained in her chamber until morning visits were over, but she was not about to hide from the world. Her child was wanted, by her at least, and it was time to face her future.
Mrs Adams was in her dining room, eating nuncheon. “Ah, good, you have a little more colour in your cheeks,” Mrs Adams said in greeting. “I hope you are able to eat.”
“Yes, thank you,” Rosalind replied, taking a seat.
“I have a confession to make,” Mrs Adams said, as they ate companionably.
“Oh?” Rosalind asked.
“I promised you that I would not keep anything from you after all the secrecy around Mathilda. So, although I am a few hours late in telling you, I visited Peter yesterday,” Mrs Adams said. She had thought long and hard about whether to tell Rosalind about her interference, but had eventually decided that, in order to make an informed decision, Rosalind needed to know everything.
Rosalind put down her knife and fork, her appetite gone. “Why?”
“He was in danger of spoiling the best thing that has happened to him; I felt he needed to know exactly what he was losing,” Mrs Adams responded.
“You’ve told him that I’m increasing,” Rosalind said dully.
“Yes,” Mrs Adams said, still convinced that it was the right thing to do. “I also told him many home truths, some of which he was not happy to hear.”
“What did he say?” Rosalind asked, cursing herself for feeling a little nugget of hope that he had been happy.
“It was all a shock to him, not only about his upcoming fatherhood,” Mrs Adams explained. “He needed time for the news to sink in.”
“As he has not visited here, I can presume my thoughts on his reaction were correct; he does not wish to be a father,” Rosalind said sadly.
“I told him not to visit until today,” Mrs Adams replied, defending her friend. “I did not want you upset more than you already seemed. There is time yet for him to arrive.”
“If I had heard the news I would want to be there first thing,” Rosalind responded, a little tartly, indignant that he had not been banging the door down as soon as dawn broke.
“We are dealing with a man who has learned the best way to deal with things is to avoid conflict, to keep out of the way. Anything else would have resulted in mocking from his father and elder brother, or even worse, a beating from his father. He has not, and never will be one of those buffoons who make large, empty gestures,” Mrs Adams said firmly. “We shall give him the benefit of the doubt for now.”
“I need to contact my father,” Rosalind insisted.
“All in good time; today you need to rest,” Mrs Adams said.
There was nothing else Rosalind could do. Mrs Adams refused to discuss any other plans, such as returning to her family. Rosalind knew she was no prisoner in Mrs Adams’s home, and she was actually reluctant to leave if she was being honest with herself. She wanted Peter to arrive and tell her that everything would be well.
Rosalind: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters Series Book 1) Page 20
