Chapter Thirty-Four
It was four full days before Frederick could pin his brother down for the private conversation he had requested.
Robert had repeatedly put him off, saying there was so much for him to do to help Phoebe settle in.
Every time Frederick had come to the study, Robert had jumped up and hurried out, suddenly remembering some estate matter of great urgency that he had to deal with, leaving a frustrated Frederick standing alone in the room.
Frederick had actually spoken more to his new sister-in-law than to his own brother of late.
It was through these conversations that he had learned Phoebe was quite filled with chatter and would talk nearly nonstop during their family meals, commenting on everything under the sun.
Perhaps that was how she came to be so thin—it certainly seemed to him that she spoke more than she ate.
She had a peculiar habit of asking a question then answering it before he could reply.
“Do you hope to marry yourself, one day, Frederick? No? Yes? Oh, of course you do, I am being silly. Every man wishes for a wife,” she had asked and then declared at dinner the other day.
Such an odd way of answering her own questions left one without a reason to even reply he had found—not that he wished to share such personal thoughts with her at this point.
She was sweet in nature and certainly pretty, but Frederick was utterly perplexed by his brother’s choice.
After courting the serene, sensible, and intelligent Charlotte Kendall, how could he have so suddenly had a change of heart and married this empty-headed flibbertigibbet?
It was beyond his comprehension, and Frederick wanted answers.
At last, he insisted firmly on speaking with Robert and a time was set for an audience. That evening, after dinner, the two took seats by the fireplace in the study with generous tumblers of scotch.
“I must have an explanation of how this all took place, Robert,” Frederick began.
“You told me you were going to make an offer to Miss Kendall. You all but assured me of your love and affection toward her. Then, in less than three weeks, you return from London wed to Miss Graham. I fail to comprehend how your heart could alter so rapidly. If you are truly happy, then I am glad for you, of course, but can you help me to comprehend it all? What possible reason could you have to break with Miss Kendall?”
Robert took a long drink before answering. Now that the financial crisis was resolved, he had decided it was time to tell his brother the truth. “I had roughly five thousand reasons for altering my affections, Freddy.”
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you—five thousand reasons? What is your meaning?”
“Five thousand pounds, I suppose I should say. This is not easy to explain, but allow me to attempt it. When I inherited Brentwood, I learned from our accountant the unhappy truth of our father’s last few years here alone, while you were away at school studying for your ordination and I was touring the continent.
Father turned to drink and gambling to fill his empty hours after mother died and, by the time he was killed in the accident, he had put Brentwood forty-five hundred pounds in debt.
Indeed, the situation was so dire that we were in danger of losing our home. ”
Frederick just stared at his brother a moment, his mouth open. “No. No,” he finally stammered. “You must have been misinformed. It is simply not possible.”
“It is. Or rather, was. The crisis has been eliminated.”
“Why have I heard none of this? Why did you not inform me?”
“I was the new lord of the manor and it was up to me to solve the problem. What could you have done in any account? Nothing. So, I determined my sole hope was to marry an heiress whose dowry would save Brentwood. Phoebe had five thousand pounds, but Char—Miss Kendall was gifted with six thousand and since she was so close by and therefore convenient to woo, I made her my intended bride.” He frowned at Frederick and took another sip of scotch.
“Do not look at me so, Brother. You would have done the same to save our home.”
“I beg your pardon, but I do not think I would have. As fond as I am of Brentwood and would wish to save it, I cannot see myself marrying for monetary reasons alone. I always wished for a love match, as our parents had, and I thought you felt the same. Are you telling me you were going to propose to Miss Kendall solely for her money?”
Robert winced. “It was not entirely a transactional move. She was handsome enough, amiable, and, as the daughter of a gentleman, certainly respectable. We found each other’s company pleasant enough that I think we had decent prospects for a satisfactory marriage.
Perhaps a love would have grown from there, I cannot say.
But, in all honesty, Freddy, it was mostly about her dowry, yes. ”
“How utterly conniving of you, Robert. I saw how you showed Miss Kendall particular favor. You were pointedly attentive to her. You raised her expectations only to abandon her and marry this Phoebe.”
Robert gave a short laugh. “Well, in point of fact, Charlotte abandoned me—to nurse her dying father. Off she went to Doddington and with her my chance for her money.”
“And you could not wait.”
Robert set his jaw firmly. “No, Freddy. I could not.” He leaned forward and said tightly, “Had I not taken the actions I took in wooing and convincing Phoebe to elope with me, we would be sitting in a nearly empty house just now. Mr. Marshall informed me that one of the men our father owed a significant amount of money to was preparing to come here within two weeks with empty wagons to haul away what he needed to satisfy the debt. Phoebe’s dowry put an end to that risk.
It has secured Brentwood for future generations. I had no choice.”
Frederick shook his head. “I am beyond astonishment. I never thought my own brother could be a fortune hunter.”
“It is not as though I was going to waste the dowry on foolish things—gambling or excessive spending. It was to keep Brentwood. I only did it to save our home. Many a gentleman has married money to secure his estate. And now that the debts are paid, next year’s harvest will put things to right, and we shall have no more worries about the finances.
Why,” he gave a small smile, “I may well be able to give you that raise in salary you wished for, so that you may move ahead with finding your own…wife.” He leaned back and took another long drink.
“You might show me a little appreciation, in fact. You may follow your heart now, while I am saddled with a pretty, but empty-headed bride who, I am now realizing, may well drive me to distraction. Think of my situation before you judge me so easily. I deserve your consolation, not your condemnation.”
Frederick stood, shaking with anger. “Your present situation is nothing less than you deserve, dear brother. Your actions toward Miss Kendall were reprehensible—leading her on in such a way. Have you given a single thought to her feelings? She must have heard of your marriage by now. Her heart is likely broken knowing that you, who were about to make an offer of marriage, discarded her like a broken toy and married another in a most imprudent manner. Thank God you did not profess your admiration toward her in a more public display. To have done so and then to have thrown her over would have seriously compromised her reputation. It would be utterly unforgivable.”
“Believe me, the privacy of our affections is the sole aspect of this entire enterprise that I can look on with some modicum of satisfaction, Freddy. I may not have behaved in the most gentlemanly manner toward Miss Kendall, but I had no choice because I had no more time.” He slammed his glass down on the nearby table and leaned forward to glare at his brother.
“Had she not refused to elope with me and run back to Clayton House, delaying my ability to take charge of her dowry, I should have most happily chosen her over my present wife.” He exhaled loudly.
“As it is, what’s done is done. I saved Brentwood and that is what matters.
” He narrowed his eyes. “If you are so worried about Miss Kendall, why do you not travel to Doddington and inquire after her? I think she was fond enough of you. Perhaps you can persuade her to marry you, instead.”
“I am certain Miss Kendall—indeed, her entire family—will want nothing more to do with us, thanks to you.” He set his glass down and walked to the study door.
“I can try to forgive you for your actions, Robert. Indeed, as a Christian, I must. I see that you wanted to save our home. But, the methods you employed were beneath you. They were not the acts of a gentleman. And for that, I do not know whether I can find it in my heart to forgive you. Indeed, I can hardly express my anger and sorrow over all this. I find it difficult to even look at you. I…do not think I wish to live at Brentwood—at least for the time being. I shall at once look for other accommodations.” He exited the study, softly closing the door behind him.
Robert stared at the closed door for some time.
Then, he rose, went to the cut-crystal bottle on a side table that held the scotch and poured himself another large drink.
He moved to his desk and sat heavily, now wishing he had simply lied to his brother instead of revealing the true reasons for his hasty marriage.
But, would Frederick have believed him had he said he was so swept up in a sudden love for Phoebe that he could not even wait to marry at the church at Brentwood?
No. Freddy was too smart to fall for such a tale.
Sighing, he unlocked a small drawer in his desk and pulled it open, reaching inside for some papers. Taking another long swallow, he read, for the dozenth time, Charlotte’s letters of love and longing sent from Clayton House.