Chapter 4

Chapter Four

T here were days like today that made Robert grateful for his work, because it took his mind off of his own worries, and helped him focus on others instead. Helping the sick and needy, finding ways to provide them with a small portion of relief from their ailments, it also helped Robert forget all his own problems, his own stressors, his own heartaches.

It had done him no good to hear about his daughter’s successful return from piano practice with the new mistress of Longford Manor. Martha, who was never effusive and saved all her enthusiasm for recounting stories to her younger brother, gave a measured account that the lady was very beautiful, and she had allowed them to practice for the full half hour.

In truth, he’d only needed to know the latter half; the first half he had confirmed well enough on his own. Caroline had always been beautiful. Though he had always admired her charm and wit in their youth, there was no denying her loveliness of form and feature. With years of maturity since then, accompanied by the wealth that sustained her, of course she would appear to be some magnanimous creature to his daughter. That Martha had mentioned anything about her meant it had an impact on her, and that alone worried him.

But beyond that, Caroline’s presence still had a powerful effect on him as well, her brown gaze still fierce and penetrating. He had hoped to confront her, show her he didn’t care one whit about her, see that his daughter would not suffer by Caroline’s hand since this was not a woman who could be trusted. Instead, he could not bear to look at her without mourning the days gone by, and immediately sought for escape himself. At least he knew he could trust Fred to look out for Martha.

Now that Caroline had returned to Hamstead, she was always there in the back of his mind, a constant nagging reminder. Distracting him from his work, making him wonder if she might appear around any corner. But there would be no gaining her good opinion, nor would he be seeking it. She had soundly written him off, and he needn’t see her again to remind himself of that fact.

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Cratchit?”

Robert shook his head. He’d brought a soothing tea for the widow, Mrs. Nichols, to help with her terrible cough. But apparently, preparing her cup and stirring her hot drink had led his mind to wander down unwanted paths.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Nichols. Just gathering wool,” he chuckled and offered her the teacup. “Are you certain there’s nothing else I can do for you before I go?”

“Oh, don’t worry for me, dear,” she said, reaching forward to pat his hand. “This tea will do me a world of good. And I won’t be lonely for long. My son and his family are coming to stay with me for the holidays, so this old house will be full of love and music again soon enough.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Robert said with a smile. “Then be sure to send word when they arrive, as I’d love to meet them.”

“Of course, of course. I’m actually quite keen on introducing you to my granddaughter.” She leaned forward with a pointed gaze. “I believe she’s close to your age and still unmarried. I’d very much hope she doesn’t become a spinster, you understand.”

Robert couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped. Was the entire village trying to marry him off? “I appreciate the thought, Mrs. Nichols. You have a good day.”

Once Robert was out on the road, he let out a deep sigh. Here he thought he was helping others and doing good, but had he been focused on everyone else in the village for too long? They must all see something he didn’t. Of course he had been lonely since his late wife died. One didn’t take the loss of a spouse lightly, especially a woman as good as her. Edith had been a good wife and a good mother. They had married amiably, but it had not been for love, and love had never surfaced for either of them. It was just the way things were, but it did not rid Robert of his responsibilities to his children.

Did they need a mother again? Without question.

But was he ready to marry again?

Decidedly not.

His heart simply wasn’t in it, whether the notion of love was involved or not.

He meandered down the empty lane, his thoughts still a jumble, until he found his feet taking him past Longford Manor, which made him stop short. He looked up at the great house, realizing the place had never given him grief before. It was who now stayed inside that held him bound, frozen, and terrified. Momentarily, he allowed himself to wonder, instead of how he felt upon seeing her again, what had she thought upon seeing him? Had she considered herself lucky that she hadn’t settled for him? Grateful to have the wealth she possessed now instead of married to a doctor who constantly straddled the poverty line himself? Of course she would be.

Which is why it was better that they didn’t speak at all.

Robert finished the quarter mile to the Hamstead rectory, where Fred and his family dwelled, and knocked on the door.

Fred himself opened the door and his eyes brightened. “Good day, Robert. What brings you out today?”

“Just checking in on your wife.” Robert stepped inside, grateful for the warm cozy atmosphere, and immediately his mood lightened. This was a house full of love and gratitude, despite any excessive wealth. He could be at ease here.

After removing his hat and gloves, Robert greeted the children in the kitchen and took a few steps toward the drawing room. There he found Lily Scrooge, a full eight months pregnant, seated in her rocking chair and knitting before the fire alone.

“Oh, Robert, you didn’t have to come all this way,” she said, leaning forward as if to rise.

“Please, do not get up on my account. Besides, it is my occupation, you’ll recall, to look in on those in your condition. Beyond that, I was worried about you.”

“You’re a good soul, Robert,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Much too good.”

He ignored her compliment, for he certainly didn’t feel it. “How are you feeling?”

“Very large,” she said with a half-smile. “Just praying for a healthy delivery when the time comes.”

“Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary?”

She shook her head. “The swollen feet haven’t gone away yet. There’s been a little blood, but the little one is still moving and kicking plenty, and it was the same with my last two when the time was close.”

Robert nodded. “Very well, then. I’ll trust you to know if you need any further support. You know I am at your disposal.”

He stood and reached out to shake her hand in parting, but she did not release him right away. “Kitty told me about… have you been back to the manor?”

He gave a stiff nod. “Yes, but I think it best that I do not return.” His words came out softly, not wanting the rest to hear, even though Lily knew the whole of it. “Perhaps Fred will be the one to take the girls from now on.”

Lily nodded slowly, then gently asked, “Is forgiveness too great a thing to ask? Even after all this time?”

Forgiveness? The word had never crossed his mind regarding Caroline. “I don’t think it’s so much about forgiveness as there is no need to make amends. It would not change anything, for her or for me.”

“But what if you’re wrong?” She spoke the words with a smile, and it caused a tremor of light to shiver down his chest. “What if there could be change?”

Robert dropped her hand. “I know you mean well, Lily, but please do not meddle. Do not try to generate hope where there is none to be had.”

She nodded with a frown. “My apologies, Robert. I only… I have not seen you smile in some time.”

Robert lifted one corner of his mouth in a false smile. It was all he could give her for now. “Perhaps for Christmas, I will find one again.” Then he reached for his hat and gloves, and rushed out the door, with Fred’s farewell echoing behind him.

Each passing day had grown a little cooler, a little darker, which meant the promise of winter was ever closer. And Robert welcomed it.

He wished things could be simple. To find a way to create a better life for his children, to find a way to ease the burden in his heart. But there would be no easy answer, no immediate fix.

Pausing in the street, Robert closed his eyes and sighed. He’d grown so weary of even praying, for it seemed his words never reached beyond the thin roof. But he couldn’t help offering up one more petition, to have Caroline removed from his thoughts, from his heart, for good. If there would be no happiness for them together, he needed a clear mind, a fresh start.

Yet as he stood between the church and the graveyard, he was reminded there was a bit of Caroline in every part of this village. The well where she had pushed him in as a child, Button Hill where they had shared their first and only kiss, and the parish graveyard where she had broken his heart all those years ago. She had been his companion in almost every aspect of their youth and had spent so many years creating a ruckus throughout Hamstead. It’s a wonder the villagers still tolerated him. Perhaps he’d given enough service in his occupation as recompense.

Just as he took a step to finish the route home, the large iron gate of Longford Manor creaked open. Robert wanted to dash behind the nearby bushes to hide, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He simply waited until, sure enough, the horses appeared first, followed by an elegant chaise carriage. Where could she be going? Could she possibly be leaving for good? He was both dreading it and wishing for it in the same moment.

He did not expect that she would actually be visible in the carriage. And yet, when the side window came into view, there she was. Caroline Marley, in all her glory. Her face was set in a familiar blank expression, both her dress and bonnet looked very costly from what he could gather, and when she turned her gaze to the window, their eyes met.

Only she did not seem to see him. Her gaze went right through him, as if he were a ghost.

Perhaps that was all he had become to her now, which was all for the better.

She did not turn her head as the carriage pulled her out of sight, and he could not find an ounce of recognition on her face. She must not care at all, which is as he’d suspected. He’d told Lily correctly. Nothing would change.

Any connection they’d had before could not have bridged the gap between them now. No matter that they had once been friends. Even something beyond that. Closer than friends, and on the brink of so much more.

Now it was as if they had never known each other at all.