One Foggy Christmas
Page 5
"You were ever a quick lad."
Stephen thought of all the times he'd been called a dunderhead by his father, but merely sighed. "Things did not turn out as you expected."
"No, as soon as you were gone, she thrust her chick under my nose as if Bertram could be a replacement for one of my own. Henry and I argued about it on more than one occasion. We argued the day he rode off and fell over a jump. After Henry died, Agatha redoubled her efforts.
So it had not been suicide, but might have been prevented if Henry had not been angered. He looked at his father who seemed to be waiting for a blow. What would be the point? Heated words would not bring Henry back. "If all you say is true, why the frosty welcome then?"
"Agatha renewed her campaign and threatened to spread her lie if I welcomed you home."
Stephen shook his head. "I'm glad the French did not have her on their side."
His father did not laugh at the joke. "I made a terrible mistake and I think Henry died for it."
This admission surprised Stephen and he weighed his response carefully, finally deciding on what he thought Henry would prefer. "His death was an accident."
"We argued about sending you away. I kept thinking he killed himself so he would not inherit Summerhill. To punish me, you see. You said yourself he didn't want the title."
"Henry had a mission. He would never have abandoned it midway." Stephen realized he cared enough about his father to disabuse him of the notion he killed his own son.
"What mission?"
"To keep Jane safe for me."
"I see." His father leaned back in his seat and the chair creaked in protest.
"I only wish Henry were here so I could thank him. Henry loved life, his own and everyone else's, too much to ever consider ending his on purpose."
His father stared at him. "After dashing the idea of university it was logical for you to go into the army."
For the first time, Stephen considered his part played in his dismissal. Perhaps his father wasn't the only one who remembered the past as they wished. "No, I wanted to fight. I just wish I had not left under a cloud."
"I am proud of you in my own way, even though I did not approve of your choice, a rifle company."
Choice? His father was an old man and would never change. Perhaps what his father perceived to be the truth was more useful to all of them than what had actually happened. Stephen was no longer sure after all this time what had been said. Surely the intentions of all of them were as blurry as a dense English fog.
"Have you nothing to say?" His father toyed with his pocket watch.
He looked into the man's dark miserable eyes and smiled. "I know this has been a difficult day for you, but would you come to tea and let everyone know we are finally at peace?"
"It will be embarrassing."
"Do you imagine you are the only one with guilt? Me, Aunt Agatha…"
"She is packing and will leave as soon as the weather permits."
"Where will she go?"
"I own a house in Manchester and the tenant's lease is up so she will reside there."
"That will inhibit any gossip," Stephen said. "I warn you Bertram plans to spend some time with me in town."
"He would be better off with you than with my sister."
"So we are of one mind." He waited for his father to say more, but when he didn't he said, "You will apologize then?"
His father rose slowly and arranged his watch fob. "I have apologized to your mother."
"This is not negotiable. You must set it right, at least in this small group. They are all aware of your claims."
"Very well." Lord Summerhill preceded Stephen out of the room, but hesitated at the door of the drawing room.
"I must tell you: Henry had a will done, years ago. He always feared for your future. He left you everything he'd inherited from his grandmother on the St. Giles side, the London house, and his income."
"Are you telling me this now for a reason?"
"It's my way of wishing you a Happy Christmas."
"I thank you, sir, for putting my mind at rest, but I would have much rather had my brother at my side."
"So would I."
Chapter Ten
Jane stood transfixed by the fire – the slow crumbling of ash and the flare up as some new bit of wood caught – she thought it was beautiful in spite of the destruction.
"Would you stir the logs, Bertram?" Lady Summerhill asked.
Lord Summerhill came in ahead of Stephen and took his seat. The tension seemed to have gone out of him. "As you all know I am the first one to admit when I have made a mistake." Blatantly untrue, but no one said a word to the contrary.
Stephen stared heavenward to hold in what Jane assumed was a guffaw. She felt herself pursing her own lips in sympathy as her betrothed took a seat on the sofa next to her.
"I was very wrong to cause the recent estrangement between me and my wife and to send Stephen away under a cloud of doubt. I hope that when the time comes, he will take up the management of the estate. And I am happy to welcome Jane as the future mistress here."
"I am happy to welcome her as well," Lady Summerhill said.
Stephen nodded slowly as though he was trying to decide if his father's words were adequate.
The rattle of the teacart broke the silence and Stephen felt relief at passing over a rough place so easily. Foster smiled at all of them as he helped the maid unload the platters onto the table before they left them to their tea.
"Stephen." Jane leaned close so only he could hear her, "Mother still has the letters, yours and mine. If you come to London with us you can have them."
"I will treasure them. It will be like living our lives backwards."
"You don't suppose your father kept yours to your mother," she whispered.
"I do not plan to ask him. That he has exonerated Mother, even obliquely, is enough for me."
"He seems a different person."
"Perhaps he is."
Jane gestured toward the mantle. "The room is warm and beautiful now, and all it took was a fire and some vegetation."
He looked around. "It's not the log and the greenery. The warmth comes from the people."
"When shall we wed?" she asked.
"When we have summer, flowers and fair weather. Let us plan it for the Peace Celebrations."
She sighed. "Peace, something I thought never to see with our families."
He leaned close and kissed her, which caused some throat clearing from their fathers but a cheer from Bertram.
The End
About the Author
Barbara Miller teaches in the Writing Popular Fiction graduate program at Seton Hill University and is Reference Librarian at Mount Pleasant, PA Public Library. She has published historical and contemporary romances, mysteries, young adult books, a storybook and a paranormal novel. Two of her plays have been performed at the Pittsburgh New Works Festival.
You may email the author at scribe@fallsbend.net or visit her website at: www.fallsbend.net.
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Stories by BARBARA MILLER appearing in Victory Tales Anthologies:
Have Yourself A Merry Little Romance, 2015 Holiday collection
One Foggy Christmas
Myths, Legends, and Midnight Kisses, 2015 Collection~ The Haven
Be My Always, 2015 Summer Collection~ Hometown Flame
Favorites of BARBARA MILLER:
Kelly's Rules
Christmas Fete