Vows to Save Her Reputation

by Christine Merrill

‘But I love you.’ There. The words were out though she felt no better for having said them. And here was the moment where he could, at least, sweeten the pain of what was happening with a response of his own.

  ‘I wish you did not,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It only makes things more difficult.’

  What had she expected, really? That a man who was so afraid of loss would give his heart again after losing it when his first wife had died.

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘If you no longer want me, I will leave you.’

  At this, his mouth opened, as if ready to argue. Then he closed it again.

  ‘But I am not doing it to humour your foolishness. Nothing bad will happen to me, here or there. I can produce a family bible of my own, you see. It has both births and deaths in it, but there is nothing magical about the recording of facts. And there is no reason to believe that anything bad will happen to me. As my mother never fails to remind me, I am robust.’ And God knew what she would say if Emma returned home to her with her marriage in shambles. After finally beginning to free herself from her mother’s control, the thought of returning home as a failure was unbearable. She would have to find another place to stay.

  She took a breath and continued. ‘If you let me go now, do not think I will come back to you when the baby is born.’

  ‘Why would you not?’ he said and seemed honestly surprised that he could not dictate her comings and goings as if she was one of the servants.

  She let out a moan of frustration. ‘Because I no longer want to stay with a man who is incapable of love.’

  ‘We have discussed this before,’ he said.

  ‘You have pontificated on your lack of belief in that emotion,’ she said. ‘But I would hardly call what we’re having a discussion.’

  ‘That is unfair,’ he said.

  ‘What is unfair is your pretending that you do not care about people when you obviously do. You love your brother and your fears for him caused an estrangement that lasted years. You loved your first wife and your baby. That is why you blame yourself for their deaths. And you are willing to believe in this elaborate charade of a curse, rather than admit that you work yourself into spells of panic when you cannot avoid the pain of loss that we all must sometimes experience.’

  ‘Think what you like,’ he said, obviously shaken by her assessment. ‘But I do not want you here if there is any chance that it might end badly. When you have survived the birth you can return here and we will go back to the way we were.’

  ‘But that is it,’ she snapped. ‘I do not want things to be the way they were. I want more than that. I want a husband who loves me enough to face the bad with the good.’

  ‘And I cannot give that to you,’ he said, with a sigh. For a moment, he looked as though he might actually regret that he was not enough for her.

  ‘Then we are in agreement,’ she said, just as unhappy. ‘I will leave. You will have your loneliness back and with it your peace of mind. I hope it gives you more joy than I could have.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The house was empty again, just as it had been in the two years after Beth had died.

  Then he had met Emma. It was amazing how quickly it had become full of joy and laughter, and her. Perhaps she was right that he had loved Beth, for he’d never really forgotten her. But the four months Emma had lived with him had flown past in a whirlwind of activity and he had forgotten there was another way to live.

  The first evening without her was interminable and the next one even longer. It almost made him relent and beg her to come back. But then he remembered that her life and the life of a child were at stake. Just the thought of what might happen made his heart race until it felt as though it might explode.

  He was able to calm himself by remembering that she’d told him she would not be returning, no matter what he did. To get her to even consider it would require more than he was capable of giving her. But with that calm had come a lingering sadness deeper than any he had felt before.

  It was both good and bad to know that she was safe. He regretted that he had sent her back to a home which had crushed her spirit and her soul during the time she’d lived in it. Was she even now returning to the hesitant girl that had walked down the aisle with him? Or could she manage to keep the confidence that had grown in her while they had been together?

  It was better that he did not know, for if he did not like the truth, he might be tempted to drag her back, no matter the consequences for either of them. So he did nothing.

  But some things were easier because of it. He was no longer happy, but neither did he have paralysing spells of doubt. His heartbeat was steady, unmoved by fear or passion. His hands were warm and steady, but no one held them as he drifted off to sleep. He did not feel love, but neither did he feel pain.

  * * *

  The months passed in peace. He caught up on his reading. He rode less and slept more. He stopped dressing for dinner, since there was no one there to see him. And when he played tennis, which was seldom, he did it in the tennis court, unable to bring himself to enter the ballroom, even if it was not being used for its intended purpose.

  He avoided the neighbours, just as he used to. In return, no one visited him. It was unexpected when the butler announced that Major Gascoyne had come, but Robert hardly had the energy to be surprised by it. ‘Show him in.’

  His brother entered, staring at him critically, noting his untrimmed hair and stubble with a sigh. ‘Hello, Robert.’

  ‘Hello, Jack,’ he replied. ‘Come to borrow money?’

  His brother laughed. ‘Do not think you can bait me into one of our old arguments that easily. Even though your wife is gone, I would hope that some of her influence on your manners will remain.’

  ‘What makes you think my wife is gone?’ Robert asked, rubbing his unshaven cheek and wondering if it was possible to keep a secret in this community or if Emma had announced his betrayal to the world.

  ‘Because she has been living in my house for weeks.’ Jack shook his head. ‘Did you honestly try to send her home? Surely you must have realised that she would not go there, of all places.’

  ‘I did not think she would go to you,’ he said, surprised.

  ‘We are the only other family she has,’ Jack replied. ‘And she and Lucy have grown quite close now that they are both increasing.’

  ‘I am sorry to impose my problems on you,’ Robert said.

  ‘And congratulations to you, as well,’ Jack said, as if to remind him what the correct response to such news should be.

  ‘I will accept your congratulations after the child and the mother is safe,’ he replied.

  ‘Because, apparently, you believe she is unsafe in her own home,’ Jack said, shaking his head. ‘And all because of something our mad grandfather told you.’

  Mad? Was Jack serious or exaggerating? And what was it that Emma had said about not really knowing the man until he had read the journals? Perhaps insanity ran in their family.

  Robert nodded. Then it was no surprise that he was mad as well. ‘I know the idea is ludicrous. But I also remember what happened to Elizabeth. I am willing to sacrifice anything to prevent even the smallest chance that it will happen again.’

  ‘If it happens, then it will be in my house and you will not have to see it,’ Jack said. ‘That is not a matter of keeping her safe, that is an act of cowardice on your part.’

  ‘Perhaps it is,’ Robert agreed. ‘But not all of us are as brave as you, little brother.’

  At this, Jack gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Bravery is a relative thing. In your case, I suspect you would rather face an army single-handed than see your wife hurt. And she, in turn, will not come home until you have the nerve to keep her.’

  ‘Then I will have to learn to live without her, just as she is learning to do without me,’ he said. And it must have been the right decision,
for just the thought of what might be coming made his head swim and his hands grow cold.

  ‘I will inform you when the child is born,’ Jack said, disgusted, rising to go. ‘Then, we will see if either of you has come to your senses. For now, I will leave you on your own, just as you wish to be.’

  Once he was gone, Robert was left to his thoughts, which were more confused than ever. It was some comfort to know that Emma was safe and happy in Jack’s home and that all was going well so far. But it was clear that Jack did not take the family curse any more seriously than his wife did.

  Which raised the question of why Robert believed something that his brother knew nothing of. On the rare times he’d bothered to talk to him, his grandfather had been adamant that the family was doomed. Perhaps it was some secret that was only shared with the heir, though the old man had left no instructions as to secrecy when he had died.

  Or, perhaps it was a story to frighten children into obedience and it had simply got out of hand. But that could not be right, for there had been no promise that good behaviour would mitigate the effects of the tragedy Grandfather had promised him. It had certainly done him no good, for his disabling spells had grown worse after each of his grandfather’s warnings, as if to prove the curse’s existence.

  Perhaps it was time to heed Emma’s final warning to him and read what she had found in his grandfather’s writings. He went to the study, where the journals and diaries of the previous masters of the house were kept. If there was a curse, as his grandfather had said, surely there must be some point, in the past, where it had started. He could not find a way to end it if he did not know how it began.

  His grandfather had spoken as if it were always there, immutable for generations. How far back must he look? Fifty years? A hundred? At last he decided to start one generation back, with his great-grandfather, and work slowly back from there.

  * * *

  But after an evening’s skimming of ten years of stewardship of the property, he could find no mention at all of a problem. Things happened, both good and bad, and they were recorded in the same, even hand as if the writer was untouched by the event to any great degree. And through it all, there was no mention of any kind of supernatural influence on events.

  Then he turned to his grandfather’s journals. They, too, started out in the same even tone as his predecessor. But after the death of his second wife, the narrative began to unravel. His grandfather had begun to look back through the journals of his ancestors, just as Robert was doing. But his read on them was quite different. He focused on the negative to the exclusion of all else. And as he did so, he searched for a pattern to justify them.

  Slowly, month by month, his grandfather’s writing lost any sense of perspective. He wrote only of the disasters that befell him and his family. There was not a trace of light left in the narrative, even at times that Robert knew had been successful and prosperous for the family.

  And this was the man he had listened to, in the formative years of his life. He had ignored the man for as long as he could. But after Beth’s death, every conversation had come back to him and the family curse had become as real to him as the walls and floor of the house.

  But apparently, the whole thing had come from the tortured mind of a grieving man. It had made him wallow in his own grief and turn from possibilities that might have succeeded, out of fear of inevitable failure.

  Worse yet, he had turned from the one woman who had offered to change his life, sending her away. He could call her back and make it right. He should go to her right now and tell her that he had been wrong. But as he walked towards the door, his knees went weak and his blood turned to ice. Before he had been able to summon a servant to get his horse, he had gone back to his study, poured a brandy and taken a chair.

  Suppose he was wrong? In this, of all things, would it be harmful to wait just a few months to be sure that she and the baby would be safe? And what if they were not safe, even at his brother’s house? What if there was no curse, but she died anyway?

  It was then that his heart began to pound in earnest. He gripped the edge of the desk with his fingertips, holding so tight that he was sure he must be leaving dents in the wood. The only good thing about the departure of Emma was that he had been largely free of these spells, confident that he was doing what was best for her, trying to keep her safe.

  But if there was no curse, then there was nothing he could do, one way or the other, to influence the future. He had no way to control what was happening around him. And with that, the terror hit him, washing over him in a wave.

  When it had passed, he sat weak and drained. Even if he wanted to, he could not go to her like this. Until he found a way to master his spirit, he was no good for her, now or in the future.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Her time was coming soon. Emma could still not believe that the months had passed so quickly, especially since she had been doing nothing more than reading novels and waiting for a visitor that would not come.

  The Major had been to visit his brother and had little to say on his return, other than that the man was a stubborn fool. It annoyed Emma that the truce between the two of them had evaporated along with her marriage. It was even worse that, by coming here, she felt she had taken the wrong side in an argument she wanted no part of.

  But what else was she to do? She was not welcome to go home to her husband, even if she had wanted to. And it was clear, after Jack’s visit, that Robert would not come to get her.

  Now, Lucy appeared in the doorway of her room and offered her a letter. ‘It is from your husband,’ she said.

  ‘Really,’ she said and took it, unsure of what her reaction ought to be after four months of silence. She slit the seal and unfolded it to read.

  Dear Emma,

  Much has happened since you’ve been away that might be of interest to you.

  I have had more news from Cornwall on the mine I invested in. Though it was a failure before we married, since then it has been producing at an astounding rate. The profits have been far more than I hoped for when I invested.

  In addition, it seems that our mutual friend, Hercules the bull, managed to find a weak spot in the fence and spent the day rampaging over the countryside. No one was hurt during the escape, but a herd of neighbouring cows will likely be doubled come spring. The farmer is as yet unsure whether to complain or to pay me a stud fee.

  The servants are rebuilding the bull enclosure as we speak, to be sure that any further trips off the property will not be impromptu.

  I must apologise for my complaints of cursed luck on the day you left me. It was an overreaction on my part, as was any blame you might think I have placed on you.

  ‘What does he say?’ Lucy asked, leaning forward.

  ‘Apparently, he wishes to tell me how well he is doing without me,’ Emma said with a disappointed sniff, and continued reading.

  As you suggested, I read my grandfather’s journals and understand what you were trying to tell me about the state of his mind. It was clear that the curse was an invention of his own tortured brain. But, although I am attempting to, it has been difficult for me to release what I believed for so many years.

  Though I blamed the curse for the spells that sometimes affect me, it is clear that they are a part of me and not something that is likely to end by dint of effort or a change in luck. And unfortunately I am still overcome at the thought of your impending delivery.

  Though I endeavour to be better, I fear I am still not the man you deserve. I think of you always and miss you each day and each night. But I do not want to call you back to me, where you belong, only to fail you when you need me most.

  Sincerely,

  Robert

  Emma shook the paper, as if it were possible to change the words on it by force. ‘It is both better and worse than I hoped. He finally admits that his curse is nonsense, but still does not feel that
he is worthy of me.’ She stared back at Lucy. ‘And he signs with sincerity and not with love. What am I to do with a man like that?’

  Lucy could offer nothing more than a shrug and a shake of her head.

  * * *

  When the first pain came, two weeks later, it was hardly a pain at all. Emma was sitting in Major Gascoyne’s garden working listlessly at a watercolour of a flower, when her body rebelled. Suddenly, the muscles of her stomach became hard as stone. Everything seemed to freeze inside her, as if time itself had stopped. And then, as quickly as it had come, the pain disappeared.

  She was going to have a baby. She had known that fact for months, yet, it had not become true to her until this moment. Had she thought that the process would somehow resolve itself without this most difficult of acts?

  Now that the time was here, it was all wrong. No matter that she had been here almost as long as she had been with Robert, this was not her home. She could not have a baby in a stranger’s house. Lucy, great friend that she had been, knew nothing about pregnancy or birth. Despite the house being full of people, she could not think of a single one that could help her at this moment.

  But what did that leave her? She could not imagine going back to her parents’ home at this time, only to be guided through the duration of the long hours by her mother. It was very likely that she would be given a litany of her faults, while trying to do what any woman was designed by God to be capable of.

  But she could not go home. The man she loved had turned her away and did not think he had the courage to face this moment. He said he had done it for her own good, but he had abandoned her. It was the sort of thing that happened to fallen women, not to wives. They were not supposed to be homeless and unloved when about to deliver a possible heir. He claimed to have her welfare at heart, but was it not just as likely that she would die in the care of strangers and not in her own bed?

  She did not want that. In the short time she had been there, Gascoyne Manor had been all that she had wanted. A place where she had been free and safe from criticism. For the first time in her life, she had felt normal. She had not had to change herself to fit the world. The world had been subtly adjusted to suit her. And it was all because of the man she loved, whose baby she was about to have.