Gifts of the Heart Page 4

  “Do you? Then why did you get so angry when I gave Miss Stevenson her holiday? And why does it bother you that I care about Delia’s entanglement?”

  She laughed. “Robert, Michael’s only a boy!”

  “Yes, well, I remember what I was like at that age,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

  He looked remarkably like a boy himself, so much so that affection flooded through her. He would never understand why she resented his peremptory manner, and so she would not frustrate herself, or him, by trying to explain. Besides, knowing what motivated it made matters a little easier. He genuinely cared about their children. “I wish I had known you then,” she said.

  “We were young enough when we met. I, twenty-one, and you only eighteen.” His eyes glinted with sudden mischief. “Of course, we were already betrothed.”

  “Yes, and didn’t that make me angry when I found out!” She grinned at him. “I thought it would ruin my season beyond repair. How young I was.”

  “And how pretty.” He returned the grin, the shared memory curling around them and drawing them closer. “Do you remember when we first met?”

  “I remember.” Her eyes were soft. “I was at my first real ball, after I was presented at court. I remember I had on a white muslin gown that I thought was daring. I was young.” She looked up at him. “And determined to enjoy myself, even if I was betrothed.”

  “Our parents should never have made that stupid contract and expected us to be bound by it,” he said, leaning his head back against his linked hands, the very picture of lean, male arrogance.

  “I expected to hate you, you know,” she said, ruefully, as if she had never told him this before. When they had first been married they had delighted in telling each other the tale of their first meeting. They hadn’t done so in a long time. “When Mama told me I’d been promised to you since childhood, I was furious, and I decided I would never like you.”

  “And I told my father that if we didn’t suit we wouldn’t marry, and hang the stupid contract.” He smiled. “He wanted to take a strap to me, but I was taller than him.”

  “Your father would have let you have anything you wanted, and you know it.”

  “I do. He knew I’d want you.”

  Color surged into Eliza’s face. “Your parents and mine wanted to join their bloodlines,” she said, tartly.

  “As you wish.” Robert’s smile was knowing. “Regardless, I wouldn’t have forced you into it, Eliza. But, as I recall, I didn’t have to.”

  “No. But as I recall, I was very cross with you for a while, for not telling me who you were at that ball. I still think it was unfair of you, Robert, not to use your title when we were introduced.”

  “I don’t.” He grinned. “I knew you didn’t want to marry the Viscount Leigh, but I thought perhaps Robert Evans would have a chance.”

  “As he did.”

  “As I did,” he agreed, smiling at her. She smiled back and they fell silent, remembering. It had been at that ball, the one Eliza hadn’t really wanted to attend, because she’d known her fiancé would be there. Since he’d just come up from the country she hadn’t met him yet, but rumor had it he’d be at this ball. She really didn’t want to marry him, not then. The thought of marrying someone she’d never met, someone her parents had chosen, for heaven’s sake, was revolting. She was pleased, then, when the tall, blond young man was introduced to her. Robert Evans. She looked up into his deep-set gray eyes, and fell completely, irrevocably in love.

  “We went out into the garden,” Robert said, suddenly.

  Eliza smiled, remembering that breach of propriety, how exciting it had been and how thunderous a scold she had received for it later. It hadn’t mattered, though. There in the garden they’d kissed, Eliza’s first real kiss ever. “And you told me who you were.”

  “You were furious.” He grinned. “‘Twas the first time I realized you had a temper.”

  “Yes, and it hasn’t improved, I fear.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, softly.

  She looked up, startled. “Doesn’t it?”

  “No.” Bending forward, he stretched out his hand to her. After a moment, Eliza reached out to take it. Their fingers touched, clasped, intertwined, joining them inexorably together. “After that I couldn’t marry you fast enough.”

  Eliza turned pink again, but her eyes on him were steady. “I remember.” Oh, she remembered, so well, her anger turning to delight, the anxious fear that he didn’t feel the same, the wonder and passion of their few stolen moments together. Both had been impatient for marriage, certain their happiness would last forever. “What happened to us, Robert?”

  Robert opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment the French windows from the terrace opened, and his daughters tumbled in, laughing and chattering. With them was Michael Slocum, tall and gangly, with large hands he didn’t seem to know how to control. At sight of Robert he went quiet, and color surged into his face, burning to the tips of his ears. A few moments earlier Robert might have frowned in disapproval of the boisterous, easy relationship that obviously existed between Michael and Delia, but remembering his own past made him see things differently. Eliza was right. They were children. Childhood romances rarely lasted. “Good morning, Michael,” he said, mildly.

  “Good morning, sir.” Michael made a quick, awkward bow, visibly relaxing, to Robert’s chagrin and amusement. Was he really such an ogre?

  “Laura caught a frog,” Delia said, scornfully, “and Michael thought it was capital.”

  Robert and Eliza exchanged glances and then quickly looked away, for fear they would start laughing. “I do hope you didn’t bring it in, Laura,” Eliza said.

  “No, Delia wouldn’t let me. Cook gave Michael an empty jug and he’s taking it home.”

  At that Robert did laugh, turning it quickly into a cough. “Are you all right, Papa?” Delia asked.

  Robert cleared his throat. “Perfectly.”

  “He has a frog in his throat,” Eliza said, and this time Robert didn’t try to restrain his laughter. The children’s puzzled faces only added to his mirth. “Well. Do go clean up, girls, nuncheon will be soon. Michael, will you stay?”

  Michael looked at Robert, who had himself under control again, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I’d like that.”

  “Good. Shannon will show you where to wash up.” She tugged on the bellpull, and after a moment the butler came in. As quickly as that, Eliza and Robert were alone again.

  “And I was worried they were growing up too fast,” Robert said, at length.

  “They are still children.” Eliza smiled briefly. “But you’re right, there’s more to it than simple friendship, and they may not know how to handle it.” She stretched her hand out to him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Robert took her hand, as he had just a few moments before, linking them together. “So am I,” he said, and as he did so realized the deep, profound truth of that. There was, for the moment, no place else he’d rather be.

  Chapter Six

  “Good, you’re home,” Robert said, standing in the doorway of the book-room as Eliza and the girls came into the house, some days later. Behind them Shannon struggled in, his arms loaded with parcels.

  Eliza looked up from tugging at the fingers of her gloves. “Yes. Did you want us for something?”

  “I simply wondered where you were.”

  “Shopping in the village.” Ignoring the impatient quirk of Robert’s mouth, Eliza turned to the girls. “Get cleaned up for nuncheon, now, there’s not much time. Why?” she asked, turning to Robert.

  “I finished work early today, and you weren’t here.”

  If she hadn’t been so tired Eliza might have been amused by the aggrieved note in his voice, like a little boy’s, but it had been a difficult morning. “Am I supposed to be at your beck and call, Robert?”

  He looked mildly surprised. “No, of course not, but—”

  “But you expect me to be here when you want me, while you go a
s you please.”

  Robert followed her into the drawing room. “I merely said—”

  “I know what you said!” she exclaimed, and then drew her arm across her forehead, her anger gone as quickly as it had come. “Forgive me, Robert. It was a beastly morning, but I didn’t mean to cut up at you.”

  “Sit down.” Taking her elbow, he led her to a chair and then tugged at the bellpull. “Tea,” he said to Shannon. “You look tired. Are you doing too much?”

  “No, it’s this blasted heat. I do wish it were cooler.” She looked up at him, thoughtful. It was the first time he’d referred to her condition, however obliquely, in a while. “The girls were a bit of a trial today. Especially Delia.”

  “Tell me about it,” he invited, sitting down as the tea was served, and Eliza poured out the story of the morning’s expedition. Delia was at a difficult age, no longer a child but not yet a woman, and she tended to want clothes that were unsuitable for her. This, of course, had led to disputes at the dressmaker’s in the village. As Eliza began to describe the outrageous gowns Delia had wanted, though, the scarlet silk and the truly horrible puce and pink, she began to see the humor in the situation. By the time she finished Robert was grinning broadly, and her own good spirits had returned.

  “Ah, that was good.” She drained her tea and set the cup down on the table next to her. From somewhere had appeared a stool for her feet, and she sat back, comfortably tired. This felt so good. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of her. She was the caretaker, the one who managed things. To be pampered was a luxury. To share the trials and tribulations of the day with her husband meant even more. “We need to do this more often, Robert.”

  “There’s no reason why we couldn’t,” he said, and though his voice was light there was an edge to it that roused Eliza from her lethargy.

  “Don’t let’s quarrel, Robert,” she said, lazily. She had no desire to raise the old argument again. “This is too nice.”

  “You brought it up.” He rose to pour himself some more tea. “I’d like us to be together more, too, Eliza, but things aren’t exactly as I expected.”

  Oh, unfair! She opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment Shannon came in, clearing his throat. “Ahem. Excuse me, me lord, but there’s a Mr. John Evans to see you.”

  “Oh? Send him in, Shannon.”

  Eliza gave him a questioning look. “Who?”

  “A distant cousin. He wrote to me some time back asking if I could help him secure a position. I thought—ah, here he is. Welcome to Stowcroft.” Robert rose as a tall, stoop-shouldered man came into the room. He resembled Robert, though his fair hair was already thinning on top, while his features, similar to Robert’s finely sculpted ones, were blurred. Eliza distantly remembered him from family gatherings. Whatever was he doing here?

  “Thank you, my lord. My lady.” John Evans made a jerky bow, his spectacles slipping down his nose. “Thank you for inviting me here and for finding a position for me.”

  “Shannon, we’ll need fresh tea,” Eliza said. “And what position is that, sir?”

  “You may remember that John is a scholar,” Robert put in. “I’ve offered him the position of schoolmaster for the village.”

  Eliza went very still. “I see,” she said, and rose. “Robert, might I speak with you a moment?”

  “I can leave,” John stammered.

  “No need. Excuse us, please.” She smiled mechanically at him and swished into the hall, Robert behind her.

  “This is dashed rude, Eliza,” he said, stopping just outside the door.

  “Oh? Would you prefer we fight in front of your cousin?”

  “Fight?” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re not going to fight.”

  “Oh, yes, we are! You always do this to me, Robert! You come home as if you’ve never been away and take charge of everything. You send the girls’ governess on a holiday—”

  “Which was due her, anyway.”

  “—and make decisions about Clive’s education without consulting me—”

  “We settled that one years ago, Eliza.”

  “—and now this! It is the outside of enough, Robert, hiring a teacher for the village when that’s my duty.”

  Robert frowned, looking mystified. “I told you, he wrote to me asking for a position, and it struck me he’d be perfect for it. What does it matter which of us hires him?”

  “Because I wanted to do it! Oh, you won’t understand.” She spun away, her arms crossed on her chest. “You never do.”

  “I do understand. You’re emotional because you’re increasing.”

  “Oh, yes, so I must be wrong about this.”

  “Not wrong, exactly, but overreacting. Be sensible, Eliza.”

  “Oh, so now I’m foolish.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m sorry if I didn’t consult you, but it’s done, now. I thought it would make life easier for you.” He smiled. “A gift to you, as it were.”

  “A gift! I’m tired of your gifts, Robert.”

  “What? What’s wrong with gifts?”

  “What’s wrong? You try to buy me with them, and you can’t. You can’t expect to leave your family for months on end and then have us welcome you with open arms, just because you bring us gifts.”

  “Are you implying that that’s what I do? Buy my family’s love?”

  “It is what you do, Robert.”

  “You really think that?” He glared at her and turned on his heel, striding into the book-room. “Then in that case, I might as well leave.”

  “Papa, no!” a childish voice cried out, and Eliza looked up to see Delia and Laura on the stairs, horrified witnesses to this fight.

  “Oh, no,” she muttered, and went into the book-room. “Don’t threaten that weapon unless you intend to use it.”

  Robert, slamming books and papers together into piles on his desk, looked up, his eyes cool. “Who says I won’t?”

  “The girls heard us, Robert.” She sank into a chair, suddenly weary. “They’re innocent, but they’ll be hurt by this.”

  Robert continued stacking books. “Is it my fault I’m not wanted in my own house?”

  “You know that’s not true.” Tiredly she rubbed her hand over her face. “But the children are getting older, Robert. They’re having a harder time accepting why you go away.”

  “And you?” He perched on the corner of his desk, his gaze penetrating. “Do you want me to stay, Eliza?”

  “I—.” Eliza looked down at her hands. Did she want him to stay? Of course she did, more than anything. Having him here these past weeks had reminded her of all she had once wanted, all she’d hoped her life would be. Laughing with him over some private joke, sleeping in his arms at night, sharing the day to day problems of raising a family—all that was precious beyond any gift he could give her. Oh, yes, she wanted him to stay. He wouldn’t, though. She knew better even to ask.

  “I see,” Robert said after a moment, when Eliza continued looking down at her hands. “That’s it, then, isn’t it.”

  Eliza looked up. “I don’t want you to go, Robert.”

  “Don’t you?” With one sweeping gesture he knocked over the books he had piled so neatly, scattering them across the desk and to the floor, making Eliza jump from the noise. “If you wish to be with me so much, then why do you not come to London with me?”

  “You know why!” She stared at him. Robert in a temper was a rare sight, indeed. “The children—”

  “That don’t fadge. The children are old enough to travel. I ask you to come with me.” He paced across the room. “You will not come, and there I am, miles away from you—”

  “Whose fault is that?” she exclaimed. “This is your home, Robert! Why cannot you stay here?”

  “My home,” he said, bitterly. “When my children look at me as if I’m a stranger and my wife resents whatever I try to do for her.”

  “What do you expect?” she retorted, her own anger roused now. “You’re gone most of the time, and y
et when you return you expect us to jump to your bidding, like that!” She snapped her fingers. “And you bring us gifts, as if that makes it all well. Well, it doesn’t, Robert. I cannot take much more of this. The children don’t know you, and it’s no wonder if they treat you as a stranger. And do you think I like living my life alone?”

  “You could come to London with me, damn it.” His eyes flickered over her. “Or you could have, before you got yourself pregnant.”

  “Got myself—ooh!” She snatched up a book and threw it at him, and he dodged it neatly. “As if you had nothing to do with it.”

  “As far as you’re concerned, I don’t.”

  “What?”

  He wheeled to face her, bracing his hands on the back of a chair. “You don’t want me here, do you, Eliza? You have everything just as you want it, and I’m just in the way. No wonder there’s another child on the way.” He sank into the chair, drawing his hands over his face, looking tired and much older than he was. “Another reason for you to stay behind.”

  “Don’t be putting all the blame on me, Robert Evans. I don’t recall hearing you protest on Twelfth Night. But now it’s just another reason for you to go, isn’t it?” She pressed her hand to her stomach. “Something else to blame me for.”

  “I would like, Eliza, just once, to think that I matter to you at least as much as our children do.”

  Eliza opened her mouth to protest, and then stopped. They had never settled this argument before. She doubted they’d settle it now. “They need me more than you do,” she said, finally.

  Robert’s lips curled. “Of course. They must come first, by all means.”

  “They’re children, Robert. I don’t want them to grow up without their parents near, the way we had to. They need me.”

  “They’ll be grown someday. What then?”

  “I—”

  “Never mind.” He crouched and began picking up the scattered books. “This does no good. I’ll pack and return to London as soon as I can.”

  “Robert—”