There was, it seemed a man, someone Robin’s mother liked. A lot. Robin, it seemed, rather liked him too. Or had.
“Had?”
“Until he heard them talking. Oh, Elf, I cannot believe he is correct in his thinking.”
Elf heard pain in her sister’s voice that was echoed by that she could see in Ally’s pale blue eyes. “His thinking,” she probed.
Ally nodded, but turned her head at a brief knock. The sisters looked at each other and Ally folded and put the paper in her pocket. “Come in,” she called.
Robin entered. “Jemma is going shopping. She says I may carry the basket for her…”
“Run along,” said Elf, smiling. “Or, one moment.” She went across the room to where a chest had a row of very small drawers along the top. She opened one, took out two pennies, and gave them to Robin. “Buy yourself some sweets,” she said.
He grinned. “I think I can get enough for all of us with this,” he said, and hurried off, afraid Jemma might leave without him.
Silently, the sisters waited. Finally they heard the soft sound of the back door shutting and relaxed. “Now,” said Elf, “you were going to explain what part of his thinking cannot be correct.”
“Because he still insists they were discussing ways of getting rid of him.”
“That has to be nonsense,” muttered Elf. “It simply cannot be true.” She formed a fist and banged it against the arm of her chair. “If only I could think of whom he reminds me!”
Two days later the first of a spate of newsy letters arrived. After sending her letters off, Elf’s hopes of finding the news she needed in the replies had faded. She’d avoided mentioning Robin both because of their promise to him and because of the not totally impossible problem that he was correct that someone wished him utterly out of the way.
The fact that the necessary clue was in the second letter she read was something of a surprise. It had her rising to her feet, pausing for thought, and sinking back. “No. They wouldn’t. Would they?”
“Did you say something Elf?” asked Ally, looking up from the shift she was mending for Elf. Elf had started the mending herself, but both were glad when Ally took it from her hands.
“Hmm? Say something?” Elf looked from the letter she was rereading. “Ally, do you recall Lady Mary Upland?”
Ally started to shake her head but stopped the motion before it was well begun. “That shy young woman at the Ablister’s house party…oh, several years ago now? The one who wouldn’t say boo to a goose?”
“Ummm.” Elf was again reading the interesting bit of news. “She is remarrying. Or was supposed to be remarrying? Lady Winston writes that she’s received a note that the wedding has been delayed.”
Ally blinked, her hands still. “Wedding? Delayed?” Her head tipped in a bird-like way that suggested confusion. “Elf, it doesn’t mention Robin so what has it to say to anything? Why are you suddenly interested in a young widow you met once perhaps five years ago?”
“Because, Ally, I may have met her only once, but I remember a huge pair of dark gray eyes surrounded by long lashes. That’s why.”
Ally frowned for a moment and then her face glowed. “Oh!”
“You remember now?”
“Oh yes. And I’m certain you must have guessed correctly.” She sobered. “But I cannot believe she…”
Elf interrupted. “Do you recall who she was to wed? Wasn’t there an announcement a month or so ago?”
“Sir Anthony Drake,” said Ally promptly. She read the London papers avidly whenever the vicar passed them on to the Thornton sisters and never forgot such interesting tidbits.
“Ah! Sir Tony!” Elf tipped her head slightly. “A bit of a jokesmith, isn’t he?”
“Hmm,” said Ally, her head nodding at a ferocious rate. “Oh quite a funning sort of man,” she added.
“And not one who would wish his stepson out of the way. At least not permanently?”
“Definitely not,” said Ally promptly. “He’s a kind man under that teasing nature.”
Elf rose to her feet. “I’ve a letter to write,” she said. The sisters smiled at each other. As Elf went up the stairs to her room, she wondered where she could possibly manage to find the money to send her missive by special messenger. No mother should be allowed to worry one moment longer then necessary.
Some days later Robin and the sisters, expecting to stay up very late that evening in order to attend the Christmas Eve midnight church services, were resting. Robin had gone to his bed a bit grumpily, but he’d not argued seriously. It wasn’t so very long since he’d recovered from what could have been the death of him. Though he wouldn’t admit it to a soul, he found, to his surprise, that he still tired easily.
When she peeked in on him after a nap, Ally wasn’t surprised to find him sleeping. She went softly down the stairs and reached the hall just as a knock sounded at the front door. She waved Jemma back into the kitchen where the woman was working on a special Christmas dinner. It would be made from supplies Elf and Ally’s great-nephew had sent them from his estate in the Lake District, his much appreciated Christmas present to them. The butcher’s bill wouldn’t go any higher or the greengrocer’s or even the collier’s!
There was a second knock just as Ally opened the door. She smiled widely.
“He’s here? He’s all right?” asked the lovely young-looking woman entering in a bit of a rush, her hands extended.
“He’s here,” said Ally, giving the hands a comforting squeeze. “Do come into the sitting room and I’ll try to explain,” she added with a quick glance up the stairs.
Some fifteen minutes later Sir Tony shook his head. “My wretched tongue,” he said. “My wretched sense of humor,” he added. “My dear,” he went on, turning to Robin’s mother, because that’s who it was, “Can you ever forgive me? The worry I’ve caused you. I am so sorry. And poor Robin. What he has believed, what he’s suffered merely because I cannot help but make a jest of everything.”
“No, no, not your fault,” said Lady Mary. “We’ll not blame you. Not once Robin understands,” she added and turned quickly toward the opening door.
But it was not her son. Elf smiled a welcome. “Robin still sleeps. He was ill when he first arrived, but now is merely resting since we mean to go to the midnight services.”
“We’ve been so worried,” said Lady Mary. She blushed that she’d so obviously shown disappointment it was only Elf rather than her son.
Sir Tony stood. “I think,” he said, “that since I am at fault, it is up to me to make things right again. Show me where he is.”
Ally raised one hand and shook her head in alarm but Elf, after staring at their guest for a long moment, nodded. She led him to the bottom of the stairs. “The room on the left,” she said and watched as the baronet took the stairs two at a time.
When Elf returned to the sitting room, Lady Mary was on her feet, her hands clasped, her lip held firmly between even white teeth and a worried look in her eyes.
“Sir Tony will do very well, my lady,” said Elf soothingly. “I have known him for years.” When Mary didn’t relax, she added, “He will make Robin understand.” She raised her gaze to the ceiling as voices drifted down from the room above and sent a quick prayer aloft that what she’d just said was true.
Chapter Two
Standing near the door, Tony watched his son-to-be cringe away. Eyes widening, the lad scrunched up against the head of his bed, obviously scared to death.
“I could never mean you harm, Robin,” said Tony, speaking quickly. “I love your mother, Robin. She loves you. Do you truly think I’d wish her such pain as she’d suffer if something happened to you?”
Robin tipped his head slightly. After a moment he relaxed a little. “Then…then what did you mean? You said it. You said, get rid of me.”
Tony looked around, saw a sewing chair near the window, stared at it doubtfully for a moment, but then, hoping it would hold him, moved it so he could sit facing Robin. “You a
re…fourteen, I think?” he asked.
Robin nodded, obviously confused by the question.
“Then, my boy, you are old enough to know a bit of what goes on between a man and a woman?” Tony repressed a smile at the red rising up Robin’s throat and into his ears. “I see you do. When a man and a woman are wed, then it is not only right and proper for them to engage in such behavior, but, as you’ll find when you are older, they want to.”
Robin bit a bit of his lower lip, his eyes wide. “My mother?” he whispered.
Tony, this time, repressed a sigh. How am I to get through this embarrassing conversation, he wondered. He smiled as nonchalantly as he could. “My boy, you wouldn’t be here if your mother and father had not…er…enjoyed connubial bliss.” He arched his brows.
Robin looked down at his hands that were clenched together rather tightly.
“Robin, it is not wrong,” said Tony quietly. “Not when love is involved. And sometimes, when a man is not married, for…er…other reasons but,” he added quickly, “we can talk about that sort of thing when you are a little older. If you want?”
“Then when you wanted to be rid of me…” Robin raised those huge grey eyes so like his mother’s and stared at Tony.
“It merely meant we wanted time alone to get to know each other in that way as well as all we’ve learned by less…er…intimate means.”
Robin nodded, again blushing. This time Tony allowed a sigh to escape him. “What you heard referred to the plan, which you knew, by which you would go off after the wedding with your cousins. Your mother and I would have had a few weeks together but meant to return for you and take you to school before going off on a longer trip. You did know, did you not, that we meant to go to Italy after you were back in school?”
Robin stared at his hands again. “I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”
Tony rose to his feet and moved in one long stride to the side of the bed. “No!” He pulled Robin up and hugged him tightly, tipping his head and laying it against the lad’s. “Never think that. On the way here we made new plans. We’ll hold the wedding as soon as we can, and before your holidays end so you can be there. Then, if you agree, we’ll take you to your school. Come your long holiday, we’ll go to France. The three of us together?”
“It isn’t what you wanted,” said Robin rather miserably. He’d realized that he’d made something of a fool of himself, running away that way. “Whatever you say, I did make a mess of it all. I shouldn’t be rewarded for it.”
Tony grinned and tousled Robin’s hair. “Remind me, youngster, to tell you some of the damn fool things I did when I was about your age. It is part of growing up, you know, making a mess of things now and again. Now, if you can forgive yourself?” he said, his brows arching. Robin grimaced and Tony chuckled. “Whether or no, perhaps we should go downstairs where your mother is very likely chewing her nails down to the quick wondering how you and I are getting along?”
They did and Robin, after one moment’s hesitation, ran into his mother’s open arms, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear.
“I’m just glad you are safe and well,” she said, staring up at him, tears in her eyes, studying his features through the blur.
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly. He looked around. “The Ladies Elf and Ally took very good care of me,” he said.
“Bless them,” said his mother looking over his shoulder. “Bless you both for being the wonderful women you are,” she said.
“Yes.” He turned and bowed. “Thank you both and I’m sorry I was so foolish.”
Elf grinned. “Polite to the end!” She smiled at Lady Mary. “He was always most polite, even when he didn’t like Jemma’s mutton stew.”
Everyone laughed. And, as the day and evening passed, kept right on laughing, except, of course, during services.
Then, the next day, they all enjoyed the feast Jemma prepared and, not long after, waved Lady Mary, Sir Anthony and Robin off, a much more comfortable journey for Robin than he’d had when reaching Cheltenham only a few weeks earlier.
Elf and Ally pulled their shawls more tightly around their shoulders and turned back into the house. “Well,” said Elf once they’d settled before the sitting room fire. “That’ll teach me.”
“Teach you what?” asked Ally, picking up her current piece of handwork.
“To not make rash promises to youngsters!” said Elf. She shook her head self- mockingly.
Ally chuckled. “You told him that you’d help him anytime he needed it when we attended his father’s funeral, did you not?”
Elf nodded.
“Then I suspect, under similar conditions, you’ll do just the same again.”
Elf looked a trifle grim. “Well, if you catch me at it, kick me and perhaps I’ll have more sense. There was no scandal this time, but who knows what might happen another time.”
“It all worked out for the best,” said Ally. “And our dearest nephew sent more coal along with the various meats and other treats so we need not even worry about how much it cost us.” She smiled down at her work, knowing that Elf had worried. A lot. But now she needn’t. “If only, my dear, you would learn to trust in Providence, you’d go along ever so much better, I think.”
“I’m one who believes the good Lord helps those who help themselves, so I don’t suppose I ever will.” Then Elf smiled. “But I’m glad you do, Ally.”
About the Author
Jeanne Savery began writing when she stopped being a perpetual student. After a long apprenticeship, her first sale came the same year she turned fifty.
She has two kids, three grandchildren, and a wonderfully supportive husband. Hubby has itchy feet, so the family traveled whenever he found funding. Savery has lived at both ends and in the middle of the U.S.A. as well as in England, Australia, Germany and India, and has traveled here and there in Europe.
It goes without saying that whenever she and her husband leave home, a laptop travels with her.
Jeanne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.cerridwenpress.com.
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Also by Jeanne Savery
The Ghost and Jacob Moorhead
House of Scandal
Runaway Scandal
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Christmas Scandal...Not! Page 2
