Chapter 15 #2
“I am an idiot where females are concerned, as you have no doubt gathered. I was meant to be Rosa’s guardian, to see to her education and well-being. Clearly I failed in more ways than one.”
“Don’t say that. Rosa has made mistakes, but she is lovely and kind and well-spoken. Plus, she laughs at my jokes, which says a great deal for her character.” Anne grinned, but he failed to return the gesture.
He said, “When Dr. Marsland offered me this partnership, I rented a pair of rooms for her and Robbie in Stroud, near enough that I could visit from time to time. With my help, she would not need to rely on parish support, nor be subject to the Poor Law and the rest.
“However, when she learned Mr. Dalby’s wife had died, she followed me here and then inquired about a place at Painswick Court, hoping to cross paths with Mr. Dalby when he visited his aunt.
“I tried to dissuade her, insisted no good could come of it. But she was sure that given time together, he would fall in love with her all over again. If he ever truly loved her at all, that is. Which I doubt.”
“Has she told him about the child?”
“I don’t believe so. She said she was biding her time, hoping that once he cared for her again, the news would be welcome, or at least, less unwelcome.
I admit, there was a part of me that thought, well, if she’s right and he’ll marry her, would that not be best for her and the child too?
But now having met him and knowing more about him .
. . I hope she does not marry him. Men have more rights than women where children are concerned.
And marriage would put both her and Robbie under the power of an unscrupulous man. ”
Anne shook her head, pain for the young woman throbbing in her heart. “Oh, Rosa . . .”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Much of this reminds me of my sister,” Anne said. “She had her heart broken by him too, before his marriage. As I mentioned, he promised to marry Fanny, but his aunt forbade the match.”
“I am sorry. How is your sister now?”
“Reasonably well. There was no child in her case, although he did his utmost to tempt her. By the grace of God he did not succeed, and she is now married to a good man who adores her. Sadly, she can’t seem to stop comparing him to the romantic ideal she lost. In truth, I feel sorry for her husband.
To love someone who does not love you in return.
Who recoils at your every attempt at affection . . .”
“How sad.”
“Please don’t judge her too harshly. Like Rosa, she truly did think Mr. Dalby loved her.”
“I understand.”
After a few moments of quiet, Anne asked, “Does Mrs. Tufley know Rosa is his mother?”
“I assume she does. Yet she graciously does not remark upon it. Perhaps she does not want her young, impressionable daughter to know the child she helps care for was—what is the saying?—born on the wrong side of the blanket?”
Anne nodded thoughtfully. “Why did you not make it known you and Rosa are related?”
“I figured if we acknowledged our connection, people would quickly suspect she was Robbie’s mother.
” He shook his head. “Her poor parents. I dread their reaction when they learn the truth. Neither one of us has had the courage to broach the subject in a letter. I suppose Rosa hopes that if the father of her child marries her, even if more than a year late, that will go a long way to redeeming her mistake.”
Anne knew all about wanting to redeem past mistakes.
He added, “But now that he’s moved back to Painswick Court, I fear he will try to seduce her again and nothing more.”
“I happen to know she has resisted him and, moreover, has rebuked his attempts. You should be quite proud of her.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
Anne hesitated, then asked, “Did you really think you could conceal the truth about Robbie and Rosa from everyone?”
He sighed. “For a brief time, yes. I thought I could convince Rosa to leave Painswick, to give up her scheme of taking a situation as lady’s maid and live elsewhere with Robbie as originally planned.
Then people here would not have to know.
I knew the revelation would damage my chances of success.
That may seem selfish, but I am responsible for providing for all three of us now. ”
“I understand,” Anne said.
“For her part,” he added, “Rosa concealed the truth because she knew Lady Celia would not engage a woman with a child, especially one born out of wedlock, and would quickly dismiss her if she found out.”
Releasing the compress, Ernest Finch rubbed his hand over his face. “Dr. Marsland will have an apoplexy when he learns I lied to him—and probably cut all ties with me.”
Anne winced sympathetically. “What a muddle.”
Rosa burst into the room, breathing hard, eyes wide. Her gaze latched onto the sleeping babe, and she asked between pants, “Is he all right?”
“He is. Thanks to Miss Loveday here.”
“Thanks to my father’s eardrops,” Anne corrected. “Poor boy has an earache. A daily application should set him to rights over the next few days. At least, if my half sister who regularly suffers from the same is any indication.” Anne set the bottle on the table. “I shall leave it with you.”
“Oh, thank you, Anne. And thank God. How I worried when I arrived back at Painswick Court and learned you two had gone charging off together. I feared the worst.”
Dr. Finch rose from the chair. “I feared it too. Thankfully, all is well.” He handed the sleeping child to his mother.
“Oh, my dear one.” Rosa gathered the boy in her arms and nestled him close. “Come to Mamm—” She broke off, looking at her uncle in alarm.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I told her.”
Rosa turned to Anne, expression pleading. “You won’t tell Lady Celia, will you? Please.”
“I will promise not to tell her, but I don’t promise not to interfere if I see her nephew mistreating you under her roof.”
“Hear, hear,” Dr. Finch said. “Now you see why I pressed you to serve as nurse at Painswick Court.”
“Did you? I thought Dr. Marsland proposed it.”
He nodded sagely. “Exactly. I’ve learned it’s easier to get one’s way if you make it seem like the other person’s idea.”
“Crafty!” Rosa said, eyebrows high.
He grinned. “I prefer wise.”
Anne decided not to dampen his satisfaction by telling him Miss Lotty had thought of it before either man.