by Hale Deborah
Perhaps the smell of the stew tempted Caroline, after all. Or perhaps she’d decided the only way to get rid of him was to eat. Whichever was the case, she sat up and reached for the bowl of it.
When their hands touched, Bennett felt something stir inside him. It was a different sensation from the sparks of physical desire that had flared between them constantly since they’d been pushed into such intimate contact with one another.
The touch provoked a reaction from her as well. Not a pleasant one, judging by the way she wrenched the bowl away from him. ‘If I promise to eat, will you go away?’
Her bargain tempted him, but deep down he knew he must not accept it. ‘I haven’t forgotten what a difficult time you had after Wyn was born. But everything got straightened out in the end.’
He felt almost as helpless now as he had then, flailing about for some solution to a problem beyond his understanding and experience. A problem that none of his practical actions would remedy.
Caroline heaved a ragged sigh. ‘It got straightened out by taking my baby away and handing him over to someone who could care for him properly. That is what you need to do again.’
The bleak, hopeless pain in her voice compelled Bennett to defend his past actions. ‘I thought you would be relieved to have someone else tend to the baby. His crying upset you so.’
‘Of course it upset me! When he tried to suckle, it hurt so much I could hardly stand it. Then he would bawl until his little face turned purple. None of the doctors could tell why he cried so much except that it was my fault. I wasn’t handling him properly. He wasn’t getting enough milk. I was afraid he would die because I was such a wretched failure as a mother. I was relieved when he thrived with the wet nurse, but miserable, too, because it proved I was to blame.’
Bennett feared such bitter memories might make her weep again, but Caroline remained in control somehow. Or perhaps this hurt ran too deep for tears to ever wash away. And he had been responsible for inflicting that hurt upon her, shattering her already precarious confidence in her ability as a mother.
‘I’m sorry, Caro.’ In all their years together, had he ever once said that to her before? ‘I didn’t know what else to do. I felt so blasted helpless. The doctors kept saying the child needed nourishment and you needed rest. I thought you’d want someone else to look after the baby so motherhood wouldn’t interfere with your social life.’
Caroline inhaled sharply, as if he’d struck her. ‘I’m afraid you have it the wrong way around. I cultivated a busy social life as a diversion so I wouldn’t miss my baby so much. When I was out in society, being flattered and fêted, I didn’t feel quite so useless as I did at home.’
Cold nausea gripped Bennett deep in the belly. He’d had no idea she felt that way. Of course, he’d never bothered to ask, had he? Instead he’d privately blamed her for being a less-than-devoted mother. It had never occurred to him that a woman of her beauty and allure might doubt herself and seek from strangers the kind of fulfilment that eluded her in their marriage.
He could not deny her claim that their marriage had been a mistake. They were as ill suited a couple as he had ever met—complete opposites in so many ways. He was cautious where she was impulsive. He was steady and practical where she was an adventurous dreamer. He was serious and intense where she loved to tease and laugh…at least she once had.
Caroline was right about one other thing as well. Their marriage was his mistake. He’d been besotted with her almost from the moment they met. He’d wanted her, pursued her and gone to great lengths to win her. Too late, he’d learned the meaning of the old saying, Marry in haste, repent at leisure.
Could it be that he had tried to punish his wife not only for her mistakes, but for his as well? ‘None of what happened was your fault, Caro. You’d had such a hard time bearing the baby and no experience nursing one. Surely it cannot be the sort of thing every woman is born knowing. You made mistakes. That is not failure.’
Bennett was not certain where his words of reassurance were coming from, or whether they would help. ‘Failure is when you give up altogether. When you stop trying and stop caring. You never did that.’
Was it a good sign or a bad one that Caroline did not reply? At least she had not disagreed or bade him leave again. That gave him hope he was getting through to her somehow—saying things she needed to hear, even if they were five years too late in coming. ‘You know how many setbacks the Abolition Movement has had over the years, how many mistakes have been made, opportunities lost. And yet we muddle on somehow and try not to lose sight of our goal. As long as we keep striving for it, I believe we will succeed in the end.’
Fine sentiments, his conscience protested. But how was Caroline supposed to keep trying to be the kind of mother she wanted to be when he was about to take her child away from her again?
When Caroline woke the next morning to find golden spring sunshine streaming through her bedroom window, her heart gave a hopeful bound. Then memories from the previous day washed over her, sinking her spirits again.
Wyn would soon be leaving Tresco and she had begged Bennett to take him away. Now her son’s last memory of her would be a terrible one. Would it reinforce his belief that she did not care about him? Or might he think she no longer wanted to be his mother because he had misbehaved? Much as her heart rebelled at that thought, she could not help wondering if Bennett had secretly blamed himself for his mother’s desertion.
As she dragged herself out of bed to face the day, she thought back on her husband’s late-night visit. Had it truly happened or had she only dreamed it? In some ways it seemed as improbable as any dream—her cool, guarded husband fetching her supper and urging her to talk about the most painful time in their marriage.
Reliving those wretched days and nights following Wyn’s birth had been worse than any nightmare. Yet, somehow, confessing her frustration and inadequacy had brought an unexpected sense of release. Hearing Bennett admit to being almost as overwhelmed by events as she somehow lightened the burden of guilt she’d carried for so long. It gave her a certain belated comfort to know he had engaged the wet nurse and Mrs McGregor only because he could not think what else to do.
What surprised her most were the things Bennett had said about failure and not giving up. When his voice reached out of the darkness to enfold her in its deep, mellow cadence, she’d sensed that he judged her more mercifully than she judged herself. But his reference to the Abolition Movement reminded her of the damage she’d done to the cause.
When she’d finally dressed and rallied her composure to face the day, Caroline emerged from her bedchamber. Once out in the hallway she lingered there, not certain where to go or what to do. She heard the low murmur of voices from Wyn’s room, but in spite of Bennett’s assurances, she was still not convinced her son would want to see her again.
‘Caro?’ her husband called. ‘Are you out there? Can you come in here for a moment, please?’
Wary of Wyn’s reaction, she peeped in hesitantly.
‘Mama!’ the child cried when he caught sight of her, stretching his arms out in an unmistakable invitation to an embrace.
Though Bennett had told her Wyn was sorry for the way he’d behaved yesterday, Caroline still found it difficult to believe her young son harboured no resentment towards her. But here was proof she could not deny.
‘Dearest boy!’ Rushing to his bed, she scooped him into a fierce embrace.
When she glanced up briefly, she spied Bennett standing back watching them with an expression she could not identify. Satisfaction, perhaps…with an edge of longing?
‘I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Mama.’ Wyn burrowed deeper into her arms, as if he feared she might try to push him away. ‘I miss being home with Greggy, but I do like being here with you and Papa. I just wish I could go out.’
‘I’m sorry, too, dearest, for losing patience with you.’ Caroline pressed a kiss to the crown of her son’s head.
‘That’s all right.’ He sounded mo
re like his cheerful self. ‘Greggy scolds me when I’m naughty, too. Papa told me you would always love me no matter what I do or say. Is that true?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll tell you something else. Your papa will always love you that way, too.’ She cast Bennett a challenging look. ‘Won’t you, my dear?’
He might not be comfortable expressing his feelings, but he would have to start if he was going to have sole charge of their son.
‘That’s right.’ The gruff assurance of his tone was tempered with genuine warmth.
Wyn finally seemed convinced of his mother’s forgiveness enough to pull back from her embrace with an eager grin. ‘Papa said I can go down to the parlour for a while, if you agree. He says we can have a picnic in front of the fire and he will teach me to play draughts. May I, Mama? Please!’
Why must it all depend on her consent? Caroline wondered. Was this Bennett’s way of making certain their son would be grateful to her, after what had happened yesterday? ‘It sounds like a fine idea to me.’
While Wyn cheered, she glanced over his head at her husband and mouthed the words, Thank you.
He acknowledged her gratitude with a self-conscious nod.
‘There is one condition,’ he informed Wyn. ‘If your mother and I feel you are over-exerting yourself, you must promise to come back to bed without a lot of complaining.’
The child agreed readily. Caroline sensed he would have promised anything to be allowed out of bed for a while.
Perhaps because the previous day had been so fraught with tension, they all seemed to make a special effort to be agreeable to one another. The result was one of the most pleasant afternoons Caroline had enjoyed in a great while. How could an elaborately staged opera at the Haymarket compare with a lively round of charades that made Wyn fall about in fits of giggles? Even her solemn, high-minded husband managed to relax sufficiently to enter into the nonsensical spirit of the game. What was even more surprising, he appeared to enjoy himself.
The mild exertion seemed to stimulate Wyn’s appetite. Or perhaps it was being permitted to eat something more tempting than bland invalid food. Whatever the reason, Caroline was relieved to see him eagerly consuming their indoor picnic lunch. Afterwards Bennett taught him to play draughts, as promised, while Caroline acted as her son’s adviser, pointing out jumps he could make to capture his father’s pieces.
Much as Wyn had enjoyed being out of bed and pleasurably occupied, it had tired him out. By evening, he could scarcely keep his eyes open long enough to get tucked in by his parents.
‘Sweet dreams, dearest.’ Caroline kissed him on each cheek, then wrapped him in a warm embrace.
It was a precious opportunity she’d feared she would never get again. She was so grateful to Bennett for making it possible that she could not summon even a flick of exasperation when he bid their son goodnight with only a brief pat on the head.
‘I want to thank you for today,’ she murmured as they crept out of Wyn’s room. ‘It felt like a gift I scarcely deserved.’
Bennett replied with a vaguely dismissive grunt as if to say it was nothing. Perhaps it had been nothing to him, but it meant so much to her.
‘Would you mind coming back down to the parlour?’ he asked. ‘There is something I’d like to discuss with you that I did not wish to bring up in front of Wyn.’
‘Yes, of course.’
His grave tone and brooding look made Caroline fear the matter he wanted to discuss was something she would not care to hear. Was that why he had made such an effort to be agreeable today—to soften the blow?
Was he making the right decision? Bennett asked himself as he and Caroline returned to the parlour and took their places on opposite ends of the sofa. Without their son sitting between them, it seemed horribly awkward. It still wasn’t too late to change his mind and return to his original plan. Once he informed Caroline, he would feel honour bound to go ahead in spite of his reservations.
‘I hope you got a decent rest last night,’ he blurted out the remark abruptly when the tense silence between them grew unbearable.
‘Better than I had any right to expect,’ she replied. ‘Now please don’t keep me in suspense. You’re going to take Wyn back home tomorrow, aren’t you?’
Caroline’s question shattered his indecision as her wistful air called forth his protective instincts. Unlikely as it might seem, this beautiful, much-admired woman was a slave to her self-doubt and feelings of failure. She had made valiant efforts to escape, but they were cruel masters, always drawing her back into their thrall.
And he had helped place her in their power.
‘Quite the contrary. I have decided he should stay longer. It is clear Wyn needs more time to recover before he is strong enough to undertake the journey back to London. Besides, if I take him away so soon after what happened yesterday, I fear he might think he was being punished, that you did not want him here any more because he misbehaved.’ Bennett knew how the boy might feel because that was how he’d felt when his mother abandoned him all those years ago.
Caroline’s painful wince told him she had experienced the private torment of such feelings, too.
‘You’re right.’ She sounded surprised to find herself agreeing with him about anything. Or was she astonished to find him so sensitive to their young son’s feelings? ‘I cannot bear to have him think he is to blame for any of this. But aren’t you needed back in Parliament?’
It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that his allies in the Abolition Movement might be better off without him until the stench of scandal grew a little less pungent. But he refrained. He sensed she was sincerely sorry for whatever harm her behaviour might have done to her father’s great cause. Perhaps that was what she meant when she’d claimed to have failed as a daughter.
‘Heaven knows what mischief Sidmouth and Castlereagh will get up to in my absence.’ Bennett strove to make light of it. ‘But I am not quite so arrogant as to suppose the House of Lords cannot carry on its business without me for a few weeks.’
Caroline seemed astonished to hear him admit such a thing, even in jest.
‘There is one more reason I want to postpone our return to London.’ Bennett turned serious again. ‘I believe you deserve another opportunity to be the kind of mother you want to be to Wyn.’
Caroline inhaled sharply, then opened her mouth, no doubt to remind him of what she considered her recent failure.
Before she could speak, he hastened to answer her objections. ‘You won’t be all on your own this time with no one to turn to, like you were when he was an infant. I promise to help you out and pass along any wise advice on child-rearing that I have picked up from Mrs McGregor over the years.’
Caroline caught her lower lip between her teeth. He sensed she was tempted by his offer, but afraid she would still make mistakes even with all the assistance and support he could provide. Somehow, he needed to shore up her badly shaken confidence.
‘In return, I must ask for your help. You’ve made me realise I may not have been the kind of father Wyn deserves. I see now that he needs more open affection, though I am not convinced I have it in me to give in the way he requires. You make it look so effortless, but whenever I try, it feels forced and awkward.’
It had been easier when Wyn was ill. Exhaustion had weakened his defences and the child did not seem aware of his actions. Now that his son was on the mend, self-conscious reserve had frozen him again. If anyone could thaw him out, it was Caroline.
Staring into her beguiling blue-green eyes, Bennett felt a faint but persistent echo of the fascination that had gripped him the first time their gazes had locked over her father’s dinner table.
But that was madness. They had been married for seven years, and both miserably discontented for most of that time. He knew that marrying her had been a mistake. The differences between them had widened to an unbridgeable gap. When he discovered her in Fitz Astley’s arms, his humiliation and sense of betrayal had been accompanied by a secret whi
sper of relief that he finally had an honourable excuse to be rid of her.
But coming to this blasted island had changed all that. He’d glimpsed a side of his errant wife that he’d never seen before nor guessed she might possess. Against his will, it intrigued him. What was worse, he’d caught an unsettling glimpse of himself through her eyes. It challenged everything he’d long believed about himself.
Having mulled over his proposition, Caroline asked, ‘So you think we can help each other become better parents?’
Bennett shrugged. ‘That remains to be seen. But I believe we owe it to our son to try, don’t you?’
‘That is the least of what we owe him. How much longer do you plan to stay?’
‘I thought perhaps…a month.’ It came out sounding more like a question.
His wife made no effort to conceal her happiness at the prospect of another four weeks in the company of her child. But how did she feel about spending all that time in such close contact with her estranged husband? Bennett could not be certain.
A month away from Parliament seemed like a very long time, but it was far too short to repair a marriage that had taken seven years to destroy.
Chapter Nine
A whole month with her son and a fresh opportunity to make things right with him—how could she refuse such a generous offer? Yet Caroline feared she would still make mistakes, even with all the assistance and support Bennett could provide.
It puzzled her why he had proposed such a plan after what had happened yesterday. She sensed there was something more behind his decision than the sensible, practical reasons he’d given her, but she could not fathom what it might be.
