The Silent Love (32 page)

"Never say so, mother. Although, you must admit there were certain qualities about my father that I would emulate, and, at the end, he proved himself a generous, if not gracious, old fellow."

"Yes, and he had planned this all along. He told me about
your
marriage lines, but swore me to secrecy and I fear I was enough in my cups to give my word. I did not know about these
falsified
marriage lines, however, for he had done it behind my back. I am only surprised at my father's part in it. The old fool could never keep such a secret from me, or so I thought. He knew I would not agree. "

"Why would you not? It would mean, as indeed it does mean, my salvation." David, a bit uncomfortable—for he knew his mother disapproved of this arrangement—squirmed inwardly.

"It is hard to explain, my son, but I shall try. You see, when the Marquis demanded that I wed him—and he did it often, I vow—I would always put him off, for that life is not what I was born to. 'Tis unhappy I would be in a drawing room with servants snooping about, minding my business.

"I am a woman who must do for herself, and because your father could not see how misfit I would be in his world, he continued to plague me. 'Tis the reason we parted at last. He demanded once too often and my temper got away. Called him an arse, I did."

She grinned, then became serious once more. "Well, getting to the point, 'tis my principles in question here. I have always been known as Mary Strongbow-who-told-the-lord-of-the-manner-to-go-bugger-himself and now I will be perhaps laughed at."

"And you would sacrifice my future for want of being laughed at a bit? Mother, I know you better. Come clean then, and tell me the truth."

"'Tis the truth, lad. The whole of it." Mary hung her head and would not look at him.

He lifted her chin and bussed her cheek, as a way of showing his understanding. "You did well by me, my good mother, and I shall never think otherwise. If you have more pride than sense... "

This last was in a teasing voice and drew a light slap from her. "Do not think to get round me with your teasing ways. Save that for your wife." She sighed and looked at him carefully. "Bring me the boy tomorrow. There is much to do to
undo
our beloved Clayton's handiwork with that child."

David went home feeling better, but it would be awhile before he truly was comfortable in his new role, and he often told his wife how he regretted the deceit.

One day, however, he stopped telling her, for David became accustomed to being the Marquis and his good works for the village was well noted. David Strongbow, now David Larkspur, the 16
^th
Marquis of Darlington, was truly to the manor born.

The small gravestone had long since been removed, and now his father rested in the grave that would have been his. Sometimes he would go there and look down, remembering the sight of his own name on the stone, and he would leave a small spray of wildflowers in a little porcelain vase, whose golden gilding was chipping away.

Like Hannah had once done with him, David spoke in this quiet place to his father and once or twice he thought he heard the old man chuckle, but it was probably the breeze.

.

* * * * *

.

Mary Strongbow thought about the final play of the man who had been her lover, the father of her child, and the bane of her existence. When the truth—or what passed that day for it—was revealed, she started to curse the Marquis but reflected upon the matter and commenced laughing loud and long, for the old devil had managed to reach from the grave with his manipulations, scheming and autocratic demands.

She cared not if the villagers thought her deceptive, for the future of her family was secure, and that mattered.

Chapter Twenty

~~

Mary Strongbow, with her intuitive skills, sensed that things in the manor house were not as tranquil as they appeared. On the surface all was well, yet beneath the calm ran currents of discord between the young Marquis and his lady.

Servants gossiped—no matter how loyal they might be to their betters—and Mary had no end of well-meaning visitors who were eager to let her know of any discord. After all, hadn't she lied to them and misled them for years regarding her affairs with the Marquis? Hadn't Mary Strongbow put on airs she had no right to?

She minded little for herself—after all, it was only a matter of time before the gossips would find other grist for their mill. What bothered her, was how it would play out in years to come. Young Clay might be made to suffer—especially if his high-handed manners were not put paid to.

Something must be done—and soon, but it seemed David could not sway his wife to allow discipline for the boy. Mary loved Hannah, but at times, she wanted to shake the younger woman and prayed she would see sense before Clay was beyond help.

.

* * * * *

.

"I tell you, he is just a child, David. I will not have you scold him so. He will learn in time, by your example. If you treat him like this, he will only resent you."

"Hannah, love... he cannot go unpunished when he puts a dead frog in Elspeth's bed and then calls her an addle-patted ninny for crying. It is cruelty, and I will not have it!" David started out softly and finished by shouting, for his wife was rapidly walking away from him.

"It is just childish pranks and he will outgrow it." Tossing her head angrily, Hannah called over her shoulder as she walked away, "If you spent more time with him, he could learn how to behave... "

David did not follow her, but went instead to the nursery floor where his son sat forlornly in the corner, his face to the wall as instructed. He stood looking at Clay for some time, then went across the room and stood beside the child. "Are you ready to apologize?"

"She's just a servant... one does not apologize to servants, father." The boy mumbled, but the autocratic tone was there nonetheless.

His temper snapping, David reached out and turned the boy roughly to face him. "I will not tolerate your attitude, young fellow. You must treat all servants with courtesy and kindness, for they work very hard to keep you in clean clothes and make your beds, cook your food... "

"They are
supposed
to... 'tis my due. Papa always said so."

"And if your Aunt Mary came here and scrubbed the floors, would you then treat her as a servant?" David was trying reason, but knew it fell on deaf ears when the boy only looked sullen, pulling away from his grip and facing the wall once more. "She wouldn't do such a thing. But if she did, she would be my servant as well."

The boy mumbled so low that David was not quite sure he had heard him, and fearing that he might strike the child, he did not pursue the issue. Instead, he tried a new  track, for the boy was clearly not overset by his prior attempts to get him to see reason, in fact, seemed content to sit in the corner lest he have to comply.

"If you do not apologize, you will have no supper. You will sit here until it is time for bed and you will not have these!" David reached for the small wooden box that held the precious soldiers, minus one. "I will toss them in the dust bin tomorrow, if you have not done your proper duty."

"Take them then. I won't do it." David thought he may have gotten through just a bit, for the boy's voice had wavered and he sounded less certain when faced with losing his favorite toys.

David put the box under his arm and quit the room.

.

* * * * *

.

Elspeth was waiting in the hall, her thin face drawn and her lips compressed in an angry line. It was not the first trick Clay had played her, and she had found many creatures in her bed. Elspeth had had enough. Her coat was over her arm, her straw bonnet with its bright flowers perched atop her hair and her small satchel of personal belongings was standing by the door. She stepped forward when David came close and spoke without a trace of deference.

"I will go now, Milord. If you need a stronger hand with him, I might suggest my cousin Fanny. She has raised six small brothers and would have him in shape in no time. I... I am not equal to the task, for I can't abide those crawly things in my bed. Makes me quake, it does."

David shoved the box onto a nearby table and looked at the maid, his eyes sad. "I am sorry. I will make sure you receive an excellent reference... and as extra compensation for your trouble, I shall give you two months wages."

Elspeth made her curtsey, and, at David's signal, Darwin stepped forward to hand the maid her envelope of wages and escort her out of the house. David watched her go without remorse, for she was not a favorite of his. He knew she had been the cause of much gossip regarding himself and Hannah.

David privately agreed with Elspeth's comment that she was not equal to the task, for she had no real liking for the boy and he was sure Clay sensed it. He would be careful in future who he hired to tend the child and thought he needed a strong taskmaster.

Perhaps a tutor was in order, and a man would surely have more success with a small adventurous boy. As he ruminated, mulling over the idea, the thought occurred that Carlton might fit the ticket.

The man was educated and obviously more than a common man of the working class, though he hired out as a servant upon occasion. He would speak with him today, he decided, and went off toward the woods, not bothering with a mount, for the walk would clear his head and cool his temper.

As David passed the garden bower he spied Hannah, sitting quietly, her head bowed and her shoulders shaking with silent sobbing. He changed directions and went to her immediately, his hands drawing her from the bench, lifting her against him, and cradling her with strong arms, his lips close to her ear.

 "I am sorry we have quarreled my love. Let us make it up. I think I've found an answer, at least in part, to our troubles."

Hannah stiffened in David's embrace, her resentment still seething and her heart aching for her child. She tried to pull back, but he refused to loosen his hold, and only allowed her to distance herself enough so that he could look down at her.

"Hannah, you must listen to me. I am not the wrong doer here and you are treating me as though I have erred. Look to the child as the source of our troubles, not I."

It was the wrong thing to have said and David wished the words back in his mouth as soon as he uttered them. He watched angry blotches rise on Hannah's cheeks as she glared at him, pulling hard away from his embrace.

"Clay is but a child. He is not a trouble, as you put it. How can you speak so of him?"

"I said he is the
source
of
our
trouble."

"Ah, so now he is not a mere trouble, but the source of it!"

She made as if to leave and David reached out, pulling her back none to gently. They had to talk this out now.

He took an deep breath, exasperated that he was having so much difficulty expressing himself, for she twisted his words so adroitly that he feared even speaking to her.

"Damnation! I am not sure what I mean! We should not be quarreling about this. He is our son and we should be working together to help him instead of squabbling this way. Can you agree to at least that much?"

He tilted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"If you think he is the source of our trouble, why bother?" She sounded petulant, but knowing her as well as he had begun to, David knew her ready to listen. He knew, as well, her show of defiance was nearly done. He had only to coax her a bit and she would calm down.

Hannah was not uncomfortable with David's strong arms around her and indeed, she welcomed his commanding presence, for she knew not what to do about the boy. She knew him to be arrogant and strong-minded and too outspoken for his years, but she could not allow cruelty to be added to his small sins. She glared at David, her amber eyes filling with tears. "He is not cruel. He is not!"