Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

T he Wednesday of her dinner at Longford Manor had finally arrived. Fred’s family came first, and she led them all inside, with Mrs. Park helping Lily to a seat in the drawing room. Caroline worried that maybe she should not have invited them for her own selfish desires if it would leave Lily uncomfortable. Perhaps she would mention it to Robert when he arrived.

But she had other things she wanted to discuss with Robert instead, such as the status of his trust and forgiveness. He seemed to be warming to her, or at least accepting her presence in his life again, and she even found she welcomed the company of his children, which could not have been more surprising. But she could tell he was still hesitant, and he had every right to be. She had hurt him with her refusal before, by leaving him behind. Her unsettled feelings continued to churn and grow at the thought, and how at the end of this holiday season, she would be leaving again. But that is what had to be, wasn’t it? There was no other option.

Eventually Robert arrived with his family, and Caroline could not get a sense of where she stood with him. Throughout the dinner, he was seated on the opposite side of the table, and he was pleasant and conversing with all, but he did not pay her specific attention aside from being their hostess. She wondered if she might seek a private audience with him later in the evening. Though she knew it would be wise to give him the time and space he required, one thing Caroline was not known for was being a patient woman.

The children were all well-behaved at the table, and not just her nieces. Robert’s children as well, added joy to the room, and Caroline found herself being able to enjoy the evening more than she expected.

After the meal, when they all made their way to the drawing room, the children hurried down the corridors without needing any guide at all. Caroline stood smiling after them, standing in the doorway until all her guests had entered. Robert was one of the last to walk through the door, and she caught him by the arm. “How is it the children know their way around this house? Not just the music room, but the dining room, and which corridors lead to the drawing room?”

Robert simply shrugged. “Aunt Fanny always had guests over. I think Fred’s family came over at least once a month for Sunday dinners, but she invited other families as well. No one in Hamstead was a stranger to Longford Manor.”

He walked away to join the others, leaving Caroline to consider his words. Of course Aunt Fanny had dinner guests. She should have expected it. And somehow, that notion didn’t seem completely objectionable. Caroline thought she would hate the constant rattling of children about, but looking around the drawing room, she welcomed the thought. It was considerably better than her empty townhome in London, quiet as a tomb. But even having dinner guests there, the place still felt empty and cold and… lonely.

She was never lonely in Hamstead.

Someone cleared their throat beside her, and Caroline blinked to find Mrs. Rosemont standing before her.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Rosemont.” Then she straightened her shoulders.

“Might I have a word, Mrs. Marley?” Mrs. Rosemont asked lightly.

Caroline stiffened. “Of course.” She gestured toward the bench near the wall in the corner and took a seat. “I’m so glad you could come for dinner. And I’m sorry that we had not met before tonight.”

The elderly woman, who was just Caroline’s height, but with graying hairs and wilting features, nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, well, your reputation precedes you, of course. I know who you are.”

Caroline froze. “You do?”

Mrs. Rosemont’s face was still, but not stony as she said, “You are the girl who broke Robert’s heart, aren’t you?”

An icy chill shivered down Caroline’s back. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was no amount of status or wealth or bravado that would change that truth. Yes, she was the one.

Caroline clenched her jaw and pursed her lips, meeting the woman’s gaze but unable to speak.

“I only ask that you please not do it again,” Mrs. Rosemont said, her voice thick with warning. “His heart wouldn’t survive.”

The words were a dagger to her own heart. Caroline swallowed deeply and nodded. “I have no desire to hurt Robert.”

Mrs. Rosemont bowed her head in return. “I can see that you are not a bad person, Mrs. Marley. You are doing things to help in the village, and you are making a difference for the girls with allowing them to practice in the music room, for which I am grateful.” Mrs. Rosemont paused, and Caroline waited with bated breath for what she might say next. “But I fear that if you grow close to him again, he will lose other opportunities for marriage. He, of all people, deserves that.”

Caroline nodded again, only too aware of the opportunity she spoke of. “He deserves everything,” she said, her eyes staring unfocused at the wall across the room.

“I do not wish you ill, Mrs. Marley. I only ask that once the stipulations of your inheritance have been met, that you do not linger in Hamstead. You must allow Robert to find his peace and happiness elsewhere after you are gone.” Mrs. Rosemont stood to her feet. “I thank you for the invitation, and for the excellent dinner.” Then she bobbed a curtsy and returned to the other guests closer to the fire.

Swallowing the large lump in her throat, Caroline blinked a few times in quick succession. Despite her heart racing within her chest, it provided no additional warmth. Yes, she had hurt Robert, wretch that she was, and Mrs. Rosemont’s words only fueled the roiling guilt in Caroline’s stomach. But she was not the same woman she had been before. Caroline was trying to change, to make a difference.

Upon reading Aunt Fanny’s letter, she had decided to do as instructed and resolve her past, effectively closing all the doors in Hamstead when she left. But the more she dug into her past, the more she saw and learned, the more she had grown comfortable in the arms of the village again, making the thought of leaving that much more difficult to consider. Especially in regard to Robert.

It took longer than Caroline would have admitted to find her bearings again, but eventually she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and rose to her feet.

Mrs. Rosemont settled in a chair to have tea, talking with Mrs. Park over her shoulder, and the fathers entertained the children with games like Blind Man’s Bluff and Snap Dragon, for which Caroline was grateful. She did not know how to hold a conversation with Robert right now, and she didn’t want to have to face him just yet. Not when her thoughts and feelings were still all in a jumble.

“Caroline,” Lily said, from the chair by the fire, “Or forgive me, do you prefer Mrs. Marley?”

In days before, she would have insisted on correcting her, but Caroline did not want to put up more walls between her family. Especially not Lily, whom she now wished to know better.

“Caroline is just fine,” she said, taking a seat next to her.

“I only wanted to ask how you’ve found Hamstead upon your return,” Lily asked. “Does it feel like home?”

Caroline smiled, but her thoughts remained jumbled. “I suppose much of it has stayed the same,” she began, thinking of the milliner’s shop in the village, the angel statue in the graveyard, and Robert. Good, stalwart, never-changing Robert. “But my home is…” The Duke of Rothes lived in her old home, but it had never actually felt like a home to her. Living in Aunt Fanny’s estate didn’t feel like home yet either, not with how empty it was. But now that she thought about it, neither did London, despite her desperation to get back to it. Did she even have a home?

In the end, Caroline sighed. “Home is different from what I remember. But I do remember you.”

Lily’s eyes grew wide in shock. “You do? But I was just a poor gentleman’s daughter, surely far below your notice.”

“Even so, your being a few years my elder, it was easy to see your beauty and elegance in spite of your status. And I remember you had a beautiful singing voice. Do you still sing?”

“Oh, not so much anymore,” she said, “Or perhaps, just not with any prestigious audiences. I sing mostly in my kitchen now or sing my children to sleep. But there is no place else I’d rather be.”

Caroline noted there was not a hint of malice or resentment in her voice, for Lily’s gaze had landed fondly on her children. If Caroline had been in London having this conversation, she was certain she would have judged Lily for making such a statement, but their current view where they sat, with the gentlemen playing games with the children on the floor, and laughing in delight, Caroline had nothing contrary to say.

“I am sorry I could not be here for your wedding,” Caroline found herself saying, and she meant it.

“Do not worry yourself over it,” Lily said with a wave of her hand in dismissal. “It was so long ago, and I’m certain you had your own wedding to plan.”

Caroline did not like to think back to that time in her life, but she knew it had been nothing of the sort.

“How is it that you and Fred came to marry?” Caroline asked instead, hoping for a much more pleasant conversation.

Lily grinned, but she closed her eyes and fought off a grimace, pressing a hand to her ribs. “The clergyman before Fred was always adamant about having a choir in church, and so I often volunteered. When Fred finished his schooling, and was ready to take up the spot here, we were constantly thrown together in our duties at the church. It was easy to fall in love with him.”

The tone of Lily’s words hummed with amusement and affection, and the love for her husband was unmistakable. Such a notion would have made a normal person happy, but instead, Caroline’s heart hurt. When she looked to her brother, the rector, flailing on the floor as all four children attacked him with laughter, it was easy to see how happy he was. Then her eyes fell to Robert, who was smiling as well, but it hadn’t always been so. He had suffered greatly over the years, some of it at her hand, and some of it since the years they had been apart. It left her wondering if she would be able to make amends, make up for all the pain they had both suffered. Undo their hurt of their parting from all those years ago.

It would require a sacrifice on Caroline’s part either way.

Robert had not intended to stay at the dinner so late, but the children had been enjoying themselves immensely, and both he and Fred did not wish to spoil their fun. Now the girls had tuckered out before the fire, and Tim was now resting on Robert’s leg, fast asleep on the sofa while the remaining adults talked quietly and sipped their tea. Lily sat talking with Caroline, and they were caught up in a deep conversation. Robert longed to know what they were discussing, but he would not interrupt them for the world. Lily was the sweetest soul in Hamstead, and Caroline would be lucky to have a friend in her.

“Do you believe me now?” Fred asked, shaking Robert from his thoughts.

“About what?”

Fred motioned with his chin toward the women, and Robert shrugged, still not understanding.

“There is a good amount of change that can be brought about even from of a small amount of love.” Fred’s voice was quiet but warm. “Have you not noticed a difference in Caroline since she arrived?”

“Of course I have,” Robert admitted.

“And what would love do if not create space for more love?”

Robert whirled on his friend, finally understanding. “Fred, I… I can’t…” He swallowed hard, unable to speak the words, despite being on the tip of his tongue. He was rushed with the realization he was indeed terrified of love. Opening his heart again to a woman who could destroy it for good was not something he considered lightly, despite how desperately he wished he could.

Leaning forward, Robert lowered his voice. “Yes, I have noticed she is somewhat changed, but she is still very much the same. She will not stay past Christmas. She will leave all over again.” He hated the sound of defeat in his voice and the disappointment raging in his heart at the words. He should have cautioned himself better to avoid the emotional turmoil.

“And what’s the subject of discussion over here?” came Caroline’s voice. Robert immediately pressed his lips closed, looking up at her attentive gaze.

“Oh, you know. Just... Christmas,” Fred said with a wink.

“Fred, your wife requested your presence for a moment,” Caroline said, and the rector was instantly on his feet and by her side.

Swallowing hard, Robert awkwardly assessed how to get out of the situation of being alone with Caroline. But with Tim’s head on his leg, Robert was stuck.

“He is a darling boy,” she said quietly.

Robert nodded. “That he is.”

“But he does not speak?”

That would be much more to explain. “Not yet, but he will.”

“I see.” Caroline glanced around, as if not sure how to proceed. Then she took a seat next to him on the settee, and Robert held his breath for what she might say. “Robert, I wonder if—”

But before she could finish the words, Lily’s teacup fell to the floor and shattered. She let out a gasp, her hands clenched on the couch.

Fred placed his hand on her back. “Are you all right?”

Lily inhaled deeply and pushed out a breath. “I don’t know. It might be time.” She cast her husband an apologetic look. “I had small pains all evening, but I thought they would pass. We might need to go home immediately.”

Robert shook his head, rising to his feet. “That might not be wise. If you are this close to labor, it is best not to exert yourself more than necessary.” Then he glanced up at Caroline, whose eyes were wide, and her face had gone pale. “We might need to occupy a room of yours to deliver this baby.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, but a moment later she nodded. “Of course, whatever is needed.” Then Caroline hurried to the door, in a more unladylike fashion than he could remember ever seeing in her, and called for the housekeeper.

“What shall we do, Mrs. Park?” Caroline asked, her voice full of rare hesitation as her fingers twisted together before her.

“Not to worry, mum,” the elderly woman said, patting her mistress on the arm. “We’ll have a room prepared for her upstairs, and we can place the children to bed in the nursery. They’ll be comfortable there while we wait.”

Fred held Lily’s hand as she waded through the pain and pressure, and Mrs. Rosemont spoke with Mrs. Park and the maids about the preparations. Eventually, the butler Norman and a footman gently picked up the sleeping children.

“I don’t think that nursery has been used in years,” Caroline whispered, her brow furrowed in concern. “Do you suppose they’ll be all right?”

“I believe the children have seen that nursery more recently than you have,” Robert explained. When she looked up at him in concern, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “They will be fine, I promise.”

Caroline nodded fervently, but she still bore a look of concern.

A maid entered then, bobbing in a curtsy. “The guest room has been prepared, mum.”

“Very good,” Caroline said, looking around the room as if at a loss for what to do next.

“Fred, help Lily upstairs,” Robert urged. “As gently as possible.”

He didn’t know what he had expected, perhaps placing her arm around his shoulders and helping her walk, but instead Fred scooped up his wife in his arms in one effortless motion and turned toward the stairwell.

Mrs. Park and Mrs. Rosemont followed close behind, the female staff in their shadow. Robert would have followed after them, but Caroline caught his arm.

“What do I do?” she asked, her eyes full of vulnerability and worry.

“You may go to bed if you wish. This is your home, after all.”

Caroline eyed him sharply. “I couldn’t possibly sleep now, Robert. Not when I’ll be worrying for hours on end.” Her brow softened. “Is it very dangerous?”

Robert nodded. “Giving birth is always dangerous, for both the mother and the baby. We will need to watch them both very carefully. But Lily has already borne two children, so she knows the process and the risks. And I have delivered countless babies in the past.”

Her face stiffened. “How many have died?”

He could not tell her the truth, not if he wanted her to remain in good spirits, so he put on a confident face. “Any number is too many, but we shall not have any tonight.” He could still sense her unease and offered his hand. “Come, there is always a need for more help in these situations.”

Caroline shook her head. “I know nothing about children or childbirth. Perhaps Lily will not want me present.”

“Then come wait with Fred. He will welcome your support, I assure you.”

They made their way upstairs, Caroline stopping to peek in the nursery to ensure the children were all secure. When they joined the rest of them in the guest bedroom, Lily had undressed down to her chemise. The experienced mother was breathing deeply and stifling her moans while the maids gathered rags and water in preparation.

Lily groaned where she sat on the bed, and Caroline remained frozen in the doorway.

“Perhaps I ought to wait outside,” she mumbled, yet somehow Lily heard her and shook her head.

“Stay, please,” Lily breathed. “Come hold my hand. I do not wish to pass through this alone.”

Caroline swallowed and nodded. “Very well.”

“You are not alone, my love.” Fred sat on the other side of his wife, breathing deeply himself. “Everything will be all right.”

Robert smiled, happy to see them all there together, as he removed his cravat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “Lily, you do whatever you need to be comfortable, standing or walking or what have you, and I’ll check you when you feel like you need to push.”

She nodded desperately. “I feel the need already.”

“Well, then. Let’s get started.”

The sun had barely broken over the tree line when the cry of a newborn baby filled the guest bedroom at Longford Manor.

Lily had collapsed back against the pillows on the bed, heaving great breaths of relief and release. The new baby girl had a powerful set of lungs, and once she had been wiped down and wrapped in clean cloth, she was returned to the arms of her mother.

“Oh, good heavens,” Lily breathed, sweat and tears still covering her face. “I’m so sorry, my love, but you’ll not have a son yet,” she said to Fred with a light laugh.

“It hardly matters now,” he chuckled in response. “Only that she’s healthy and safe, and you as well.” Fred kissed Lily’s forehead, admiring the new child she had just delivered.

Mrs. Rosemont hovered nearby, whispering her congratulations, and Mrs. Park directed the maids as they continued cleaning up the aftermath in the room. Robert rinsed his hands in a bowl of water, then looked around the room for Caroline. She had been strong and steadfast the entire night, but perhaps she could no longer remain so, and had returned to her room.

But he found her in the corner of the guest room with her back to the rest of them. Robert carefully walked toward her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

When she turned to face him, she had tears pouring down her cheeks. The sight tugged at his heart, and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms, so he simply reached out for her hands. “You needn’t worry now, as the worst of it is over. We will watch Lily and the baby carefully in the coming days, but I believe they will both be fine.”

Robert offered her his handkerchief and she accepted it. She tried to swallow her emotions, as if she had something to say. “I had never witnessed such a thing before,” she began, her voice still thick and wavering, “But I had not imagined that in all the pain and turmoil,” she paused, her chin quivering again, “That it would be so beautiful.”

Robert had to swallow himself, tears gathering in his own eyes. He did not trust his own voice, so he simply nodded.

“And you experience this all the time, assisting mothers in giving birth,” Caroline exclaimed.

“Yes, the beauty of birth is a miracle. I have seen much of the beginning of life.”

Caroline wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “And much of the end of it.”

Robert nodded again.

Her frown only deepened. “I have seen so much of death, perhaps too much. It has made my whole outlook on life bleak. But the start of life… it is a call back to innocence, to hope again. How does one reconcile it all?”

She gave him a half smile, but the confusion, the sorrow, the yearning in her eyes, continued to tug at his heart, and he couldn’t resist reaching out for her, resting his hand on her cheek. The heat of her skin burned into his hand, and the intensity of her dark eyes drew him in.

“Witnessing both so frequently is a constant reminder that everything in between, from the beginning of life to the end of it, is a gift. Every choice we make matters. Every moment matters.”

She leaned into his touch, making Robert wonder if perhaps they stood too close, but he would not push her away. Not when he wanted her closer, wanted her to stay. Did she know? Surely not, with how diligently he had kept her at bay. But he was still terrified. If he opened his heart, would he have to suffer losing her all over again?

“Everything all right?” Fred called from the bed.

Robert dropped his hand, and Caroline sniffed, looking over his shoulder. “Just taking a moment to breathe.”

“Enough breathing for now. Caroline, come meet your new niece, Beth.”