A Valentine's Affair

by Eliza Dawkins

  ‘Honestly, quite relieving to hear! Thank you, Graham, for this news definitely turned my day around for the better!’ Robert exclaimed, finding some peace of mind over his affluences doing well.

  ‘Robert, I wanted to remind you of the dinner tonight with the Marquess and Marchioness of Manchester at Delaport Manor. Your attendance has been requested, and I have been asked multiple times to confirm you will be attending,' Graham said carefully, not wanting to overstep.

  ‘I sent a confirmation to my brother and his wife already. Yes, I will be going regardless whatever may come up,' Robert said respectfully.

  ‘I believe Lady Manchester’s younger sister, Lady Helena, will also be in attendance.’ Graham speculated.

  ‘Well I would think so since Delaport Manor is where Lady Helena lives,’ Robert impulsively said, unable to understand why it would not be the case, to begin with.

  ‘Yes, rightly so, Robert.’ Graham replied a little embarrassed, standing before him corrected. He placed a new stack of papers on the desk. ‘This would be all the important paperwork regarding the issues I mentioned, Robert. You may want to go through these when you can,’ Graham suggested.

  ‘Yes, I will make sure to when I have the patience for it. I may need a bigger desk soon,’ Robert said, laughing.

  Graham laughed along with him, after which there was a brief pause of silence.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Robert, I would like to make it known how proud of you I am and your business skills. The Lord knows how many obstacles and hardships you’ve faced along the way, with so many people doubting this wealth and title being given to you at such a young age and inexperience. You have proved everyone wrong and more so when you soldiered through your recent loss of Lady Robert,’ Graham said, with his voice lowering as he mentioned Robert’s departed wife.

  Robert remained quiet. He was still struggling from the abandonment of his wife, and the mention of her name was as though sprinkling salt on an open wound.

  ‘I deeply apologize if I have said some words I should not have, Robert. I only meant to commend your success,’ Graham quickly said, regretting mentioning Robert’s deceased wife.

  ‘It is completely fine, Graham. I would be lying if I said it did not pain me to hear her name, but I must be healed of this from its very roots. If it means you must mention her name to do it, then please do so. I wish to continue with my life and not be shackled to this betrayal which she was,’ Robert said, trying to hide any sort of revealing emotions.

  Before the reverend could respond to his heartfelt statement, Robert’s trusted solicitor knocked at the door.

  ‘May I come in, my lord? I have a letter here for you which needs your urgent attention,’ Seth Dowding, Lord Robert’s solicitor asked, waiting patiently at the door.

  ‘Yes, come in, Dowding. Let me see what’s in your hand.’ Lord Robert said, standing up and reaching across his desk to take the letter from his solicitor. He read the letter and paled in colour. ‘Is this accurate?’

  ‘From what I can tell it’s true.’ Dowding nodded as Reverend Graham looked between the two men.

  ‘What is truth?’ Reverend Graham asked with curiosity. He cared for Lord Robert for many years and hadn’t seen him like this since the news of his wife dying. Lord Robert handed the letter to Reverend Graham, unable to say the words himself. Reverend Graham read over it, replying in shock, ‘A son?’

  ‘Yes, it appears your wife, Lady Robert, bore a son while she was away.’ Dowding said simply.

  ‘And is he-?’ Lord Robert’s voice grew tight, unable to finish the sentence.

  ‘The timing makes it likely, my lord,’ the solicitor nodded. ‘Yes, it appears he is your son.’ Lord Robert sat down heavily in his seat.

  ‘Find out all you can on this matter.’ He told his solicitor, who bowed before exiting the room.

  ‘Shall I call Lady Manchester? Does this change any of your dining plans this evening?’ Graham asked.

  ‘No, I said I was going regardless of what may come up.’ Robert waved his hand. ‘Besides, I don’t know anything more. Dinner is more enjoyable than sitting here wondering all night.’

  ‘Of course, Robert.’ Graham shook his friend’s hand before leaving the room.

  A son! A son, I may have a son. Why did she leave? Why did she never tell me I was a father? Am I even the father? Robert thought to himself. Did she love me so little that the idea of having a family with me made her run? Did she even know she was carrying our child when she left me?

  Lord Robert wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before standing. He had dinner plans, and he didn't want to be late.

  Chapter Three ~ The Dinner

  The Chipping Weekly Observer, January 8, 1819

  Aunt Ellie’s Advice for Ladies

  Dear Aunt Ellie,

  I've been married for ten years, and my husband doesn't converse, doesn't appreciate, and I'm afraid doesn't love me any longer. How do I capture his desires again?

  --Wife with a Stale Husband

  Dear Wife with a Stale Husband,

  Cherish him, dear! Valentine's Day is within a few short weeks. Your courting days are over, but do not think the necessity for making yourself look attractive ended! Strive to please him as you did ten years ago. Your husband is not an angel without wings. He is a man. Though he has defects, appreciate all the good points he possesses. For every day in the upcoming weeks, find ten minutes to give small attention to your husband that you bestowed upon him for hours before your marriage. Undoubtedly, he will be forever your Valentine.

  Yours loyally, not to say elli-estically,

  --Aunt Ellie

  To my loyal readers, all requests for advice on matters of concern are welcome. Please submit inquiries on single parchment. Address these to Aunt Ellie’s Ladies’ Advice Column, care of The Chipping Weekly Observer, Chipping. Letters must reach our offices not later than the second Friday of each month to be included in the next month’s weekly editions. Please indicate if you desire a private answer. Once answered, letters are not retained.

  ~~~

  The Duke of Sunderland had been insufferable all evening. It was all Helena could do to simply smile and keep a silent tongue at supper, attended by her sister Elizabeth and her husband Abraham at Elizabeth’s childhood home, Delaport Manor. Mellicent Darby joined them for dinner, bringing unknown happiness to Helena for being another unmarried woman at the table.

  Mellicent Darby, on the few occasions she and Helena had met, was always a delight to speak with. Mellicent, or Mellie as she was known by her close confidants, was a kind woman with connections throughout the country, at least it seemed such to Helena. While Mellicent was quite secretive when it came to her career, Helena managed to drag out the knowledge that Mellicent was a writer.

  Helena thought bitterly to herself, she probably writes romance novels full of love and hope; endearments I yearn for but will never have. Her stories will be about two people who love each other and fight to be together against all the odds. If only she could craft a tale to assuage my despondent heart with a splendid male specimen to complement my mature years’ angelic dream.

  Helena didn’t realize she sighed contently out loud as she pictured the romance story in her head until Elizabeth gave her a sharp nudge with her foot under the table. Helena brought her attention back to the dinner, hearing the last few words of the twenty-three-year-old Lord Robert Kendall’s question.

  ‘… books, correct?’ Helena swallowed and glanced around the table hoping for a hint of what the rest of the question was. She started to blush the more her dinner guest stared at her.

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard Lady Helena has an impressive collection of books myself, my lord.’ Lady Darby quickly replied when she noticed Lady Helena’s embarrassment.

  ‘Yes, this is true, Lady Darby.’

  ‘Oh, my dear, I do not stand on ceremony; never have, never will. Call me Mellicent, and we'll be great friends. This goes for all of you.’ Mellicent smiled her she
epish grin to everyone at the large dining table.

  ‘Books have always been a great joy for me, Mellicent. Though most of the collection I inherited from our late father and wouldn’t dream of taking them from his library.’ Helena stiffened when she heard Charles snort in jest.

  ‘Where would you be going?’ her brother asked rudely.

  ‘Charles!’ Abraham Kendall, the Marquess of Manchester, chastised his young brother-in-law tensely. ‘Be polite to Lady Helena. She took good care of you when you were a baby and has kept this house in great standings now that Elizabeth is Marchioness at our residence at Hemlock Hall.’

  The young child relented with little more than a grumble. He never was able to get along with his sister Helena. She was far too outspoken and free-thinking for his liking.

  After a few minutes, the conversation fell away to more pleasant terms. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the conversation until the Marquess began to tell a story about his younger brother and himself on one of their hunting adventures. Lord Robert piped in occasionally correcting details of the story as his eyes flicked to Lady Helena ever so often to see her reaction to the tale of his triumph. It was a movement of which Mellicent quickly made a mental note.

  Helena, oblivious to the Lord’s gaze, was busily glancing at her young brother, hoping he wouldn’t make another cruel comment during dinner. As the story was finishing, Helena watched in horror as Charles sat up straighter in his chair, a clear sign he was getting ready to state an opinion.

  Looking directly at Lord Robert, the young Duke upturned his nose ever so slightly. ‘Hunting is quite fine for men, but I think it’s outrageously scandalous for a woman to be out hunting, don’t you agree, Lord Robert?’ Charles sneered at his horrified sister. ‘You must understand how hard it is to keep your family pure and in line.’ Helena could feel herself becoming angrier as each word spewed from her little brother’s horrid mouth.

  ‘Yes, I can see how a woman hunting could be viewed indecorous on a family. Far too messy of an activity for women to get involved in.’ Lord Robert agreed, nodding as much as he could with his tightly knotted cravat.

  I cannot believe this. Charles is relentless in his pursuit of torturing me. Is it not enough I must live with the fact I am, by so many accounts, a spinster? That my youth and beauty have passed me by? The boy should be content I have condemned myself to a life of misery and not continue to diminish my own existence in front of our guests.

  Helena felt tears prickling her eyes from pure anger, but she bottled them down. She would not give Charles the satisfaction of a reaction. The only sign she gave of effect by the conversation at all was the white-knuckle grip on her fork throughout the rest of meal.

  When the torturous meal was finally over, Mellicent announced her departure. She thanked her hosts for the excellent dinner and took the chance to quietly ask Lady Helena a question.

  ‘Lady Helena, what do you think of the young Lord Robert?’ Mellicent whispered.

  ‘Lord Robert? Abraham’s brother? Oh, he seems courteous. However, there are aspects of him not entirely agreeable.’ Lady Helena answered as honestly as she could. The answer seemed to satisfy Mellicent who nodded stiffly and finished saying her goodbyes.

  Elizabeth reminded Charles it was time for him to retire to bed. Predictably, the young Duke did not react well to being told what to do and started to throw a tantrum.

  ‘Now, now, Charles.’ Elizabeth soothed her brother. ‘I’ll come up and assist Thorne with getting you ready for bed tonight, come along.’ Elizabeth tugged Charles behind her as they walked towards the door to employ the valet’s assistance with Charles’ wardrobe.

  ‘Now, would you like to join me for a cigar, Robert?’ Abraham asked, clapping his little brother on the back. ‘A new box arrived at Hemlock Hall only two days ago. I thought tonight would be a good night to partake.’

  ‘What a fine idea, Abe.’ Robert agreed. Helena fought the urge to sigh; they were talking as if she didn’t exist in her own home, as her guests.

  ‘I will be joining you as well, Abraham.’ Helena held her head high as she invited herself.

  ‘For a cigar, Lady Helena? That is rather unusual.’ Lord Robert didn’t quite know what to make of the woman, but she was interesting no doubt.

  ‘I think you’ll find Lady Helena is rather remarkable, Robert.’ Abraham told him with laughter in his voice.

  They made their way to the drawing room, and Abraham lit up their three cigars in turn. It had been awhile since Lady Helena smoked. She accepted her cigar between her forefinger and her thumb, moistening it with her lips, before transferring to between her fore and middle fingers. She gently inhaled the fume, trying to maintain careful ease and elegance of movement with her hand. It proved quite difficult to masque the burning sensation at the back of her throat, as she felt the intense need to expectorate a good deal.

  The Marquess and his brother were discussing a business deal of which Abraham was thinking about taking on. While he was the eldest son and the oldest brother who inherited the title of Marquess of Manchester and the estate, Abraham felt it was only proper to discuss with his younger brother matters that affected the family’s holdings. The burning sensation became slightly too much for Helena who quickly let out the tiniest of coughs.

  She thought she escaped notice of the small signal of pain until she saw the deep green eyes of Robert upon her. He inhaled deeply on his cigar before blowing out the smoke in a display of showmanship. He seemed to be a lively smoker, enjoying his pungent cigar, that filled the room with a compound of vile smells.

  ‘Is the cigar too much for you, Lady Helena?’ Robert asked with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘No.’ Lady Helena answered curtly. ‘Why would you think so, my lord?’

  ‘Well, we all know women succumb to pain much more easily than men.’ He rolled his shoulders. ‘And cigar smoking is not meant for the feeble lungs of women.’ Lady Helena audibly scoffed, screwed up her mouth on one side, stuck her cigar in it, and inhaled deeply, undoubtedly making a point.

  ‘A woman’s lungs aren’t any feebler than a man’s and the fact you think differently shows how small minded you are.’ Lady Helena kept her tone conversational but saw the glint in Robert’s eyes, showing his intrigue by Lady Helena’s outburst.

  ‘I notice you have said nothing of how much pain a woman can take. Does this mean you agree with me? Men are much better at handling pain than women.’ Robert raised an eyebrow as he inhaled once more.

  ‘I imagine agreeing with you is one of the last actions I would ever dream of taking.’ Lady Helena said after exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke. ‘Of course, men aren’t any better at handling pain than women, if anything they are much worse at it.’ Lady Helena noticed she was almost done with her cigar, feeling a twinge of disappointment; she rather enjoyed their verbal sparring.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Robert asked with a quizzical expression.

  ‘Well, I’ve never heard of a man who was able to go through the pain of childbirth and live to speak of his ordeal.’ Lady Helena said as she snubbed out the end of her cigar, her brother-in-law Abraham followed her action a moment later.

  ‘It is getting rather late.’ Lord Manchester glanced at the long mantle clock, to keep from showing his increasingly horrified expression. ‘It might be best to call it a night.’

  ‘Yes, I find some people have been rather tiring tonight.’ Lady Helena said looking at Lord Robert as she bid him and her brother-in-law a good night.

  Lady Helena was so pleased with herself she didn’t notice the expression on Lord Robert’s face fell at the mention of childbirth. It brought his mind to the matter he was trying to ignore all night; the possibility of his son.

  ‘Will you be retiring with us to Hemlock Hall, Robert?’ Abraham asked as he filled two highballs with brandy.

  ‘No, I won’t be staying the night with you and Elizabeth.’ Robert shook his head, inhaling deeply before putting his cigar out. ‘I have business to attend
to in the morning.’

  ‘Would you like another?’ Abraham was already reaching inside his box and pulling out two more cigars.

  ‘Thank you, Abe I believe I would.’ Robert took the poured drink and cigar which he waited to be lit.

  ‘Is anything the matter, Robert?’ Abraham noticed the far-off look his little brother acquired in his eyes all evening.

  ‘I received some concerning news today.’ Robert stopped to inhale his newly-lighted cigar. ‘In regard to Abigail.’

  ‘Abigail!’ Abraham exclaimed. ‘What was the news?’ He couldn’t even begin to imagine what news Robert could have received about his recently deceased wife.

  ‘It’s possible she may have had a child, a son, while she was away.’ Robert swept the ashes away that were falling off his cigar.

  ‘How many months after she left was the child born?’ Abraham asked, keeping his voice calm.

  ‘Enough to be a chance he is mine.’ Robert was solemn in his tone. ‘If he even exists…’

  ‘Do you think Abigail knew she was pregnant when she left you?’ Abraham nervously twirled his fingers around his cigar when he wasn’t smoking it. His brother was completely heartbroken when his wife left him. He broke even further when word came to him of her death.

  Abraham thought to himself, if the son does exist, Robert will be over-joyed to finally have a child. I know my brother, and he will also feel guilty and robbed for his child having to spend the first few years of his life away from him. If the son does not exist, Robert will mourn the loss of a child he never even knew.

  ‘If I knew what was in Abigail’s mind when she left, I doubt she would have left at all.’ Robert said bitterly. He took a swig of his drink and lowered his head in shame. ‘That was too harsh, Abe. Forgive me.’

  ‘It is forgotten, Rob.’ He gave assurance with the wave of a hand. ‘With what is weighing on your mind I would expect words harsher than these.’

  ‘Thank you, brother.’ Robert nodded with an exhale of smoke. ‘You are obviously tired, and I'm sure Elizabeth has the young Duke in bed by now. It's late, and we should all be getting to our proper abodes. A long carriage ride should help with this.’ Robert gestured vaguely to his head. He knew his brother would understand.