Chapter Twenty-Two
As Miles was passing through the entry hall of Clayton House, Evan poked his head out of the study and called to him.
“Miles, I wish to speak to you a moment, if you please.” Without waiting for a reply, Evan returned to his desk and sat awaiting his eldest son, who entered presently and took a seat across from his father.
“Yes, Father?” Miles said. “Is this about the Pratt family wanting to change crops? I truly haven’t had a moment to turn my mind to it, if you are wishing for my opinion on the matter.”
“No, it is another issue I wish to discuss.” Evan paused, considering how to continue.
He took a deep breath and plunged in. “It has not escaped my notice that you and Lavinia are not—how shall I put it—on the best of terms these days. She no longer dines with us and spends the entire day and night in the nursery with Dickie. I have not spoken up before, as you are a grown man and should deal with this yourself. However, since the situation continues to linger, I must inquire as to particulars of the situation. Will you please explain to me what is happening in your marriage?”
Miles slumped in his seat, his eyes lowered.
“I have done all I can, Father, to persuade her to join us and to return to my—to our bed, but she steadfastly refuses,” he said, in a low voice.
“She is convinced that she is the only one who can manage Dickie’s fits and I cannot change her mind, as much as I have tried.
Charlotte has also spoken to her, to no avail. I confess I am quite at my wit’s end.”
“Is it only her concern for the child? You have not given her any reason to avoid you?”
Miles raised his eyes, a rush of anxiety coursing through him.
Had his father heard anything about his spending so much time at The Queen’s Larder?
Miles was certain he had been discreet. In any case, he had sworn off going there, despite his longings for another romp with Daisy.
Realizing his father was awaiting an answer, he said, “Of course not. I go to the nursery daily and gently try to persuade her. But it is like speaking to a doll—she only repeats the same excuses over and over. It is as if she does not even hear me.”
“Would you like me to speak to her?”
“You are very welcome to, but I doubt you can change her mind. Dickie is doing much better, too; he had but two convulsions yesterday. Still, she will not be apart from him.”
Evan nodded. “I am glad to hear of your son’s improvement.
That is certainly good news. I shall ask our physician to join me in speaking to Lavinia.
Between the two of us, perhaps we can convince her that Dickie’s health is no longer so dire and she need not attend him every minute of the day.
I am truly worried for her, Miles. When I last passed her in the hall yesterday, she did not look well to me at all—she is far too pale and thin.
Dr. Baker might be of some use in that regard, too. ”
“Thank you for your concern, Father,” Miles said. “Is there anything else?”
“No. It is only that I can see how unhappy you have been of late, and we must try to remedy the situation as soon as may be.” Evan paused a moment, then added, “How have you been spending your days of late? Aside from when you accompanied me to visit two of our tenant farmers last week, I hardly see you, it seems.”
Miles felt himself flush and attempted a casual voice as he replied, “Oh, I have been taking long walks. It helps clear my mind. If I have been remiss in helping you manage the estate, pray, say so, and I shall make myself more available to you.”
Evan idly toyed with a letter opener as he replied, “No, no, there is nothing very pressing at this point. Our fields and those of our tenants are doing well, and I anticipate a bountiful harvest. That brings another issue to mind. The annual rose show is approaching in a few weeks. Lavinia is one of the judges, and she has always taken delight in her duty. However, if we cannot pry her from the nursery, I am at a loss as to what to do. I cannot ask Charlotte to step in. She is getting closer to her time now and all that standing would be hard on her. In addition, she does not wish to be out much in public, Frederick tells me.” He waved the letter opener at Miles in dismissal, adding, “Very well, that is all. I only wished to hear your thoughts on the matter. I shall send for Dr. Baker and hope that he can aid us.”
Miles rose and nodded. “Thank you, Father, I pray he will have a solution.” He left the room, closing the door behind him. He stood a moment in the entry hall, staring up the staircase, wondering if he should go to the nursery.
A useless endeavor. Lavinia all but ignores me even when I do visit. Then again, perhaps I have been too gentle in my attitude towards her. Perhaps I should let her know in no uncertain terms that this cannot continue.
He climbed the stairs.
In the nursery, Miles found Lavinia seated on the carpet, holding a toy out to their son, who was on his stomach, reaching out to it, gurgling happily.
“Good morning, Lavinia,” Miles said softly.
She glanced up before turning her attention back to the baby.
“I believe Dickie will be an early crawler, Miles,” she said.
“See how he kicks his legs as if he is trying to reach me? Most babies do not crawl until they are seven months or more, but Dickie will crawl sooner, I am quite convinced of it.”
Miles lowered himself to sit beside his wife. “He is doing much better, is he not? I do believe he is near fully recovered from his illness, would you not agree?”
Lavinia turned a peeved face to him. “No, I do not, and if you spent more than a few moments of each day with us here, you would see that quite clearly for yourself. He has not had a convulsion today, but I must always be on guard for it.”
“Must it all fall upon you, though? We could call back Becky to assist you. Then we might at least dine together? She could also watch Dickie while we go for a walk now and then. I should like that so much, dearest. Please say you will bring her back.”
Lavinia gave a snort and tossed her head. “That useless girl! Why on earth should I wish for her return?”
Miles felt something snap in him and he grabbed Lavinia by the shoulders, giving her a small shake.
“Because you cannot spend every minute watching our son, Lavinia, that is why!” he shouted.
“Life is passing you by—you have sat here all spring, and soon it will be summer. What of the annual rose show—do you intend to ignore your duty as a judge? As the future mistress of Clayton House, you have an obligation to our estate and to Doddington to be present in the community. I ask you—no, I am ordering you to bring back Becky, or hire some other girl, and rejoin the world.”
Miles’s harsh tone startled Dickie, who wailed with fright.
Lavinia shot her husband a withering look and said, “Now see what you have done. He might seize at any moment from agitation. Leave us, Miles, and, pray, do not return if you cannot behave in a more civilized manner. Order me to abandon my son, indeed!” She picked up the crying baby and turned her back on her husband.
Miles watched a moment longer, then abruptly rose and stomped out of the nursery, slamming the door behind him.
He ran down the stairs, grabbed his coat and hat, and fled the house, heading towards Doddington.
Within twenty minutes, he had entered The Queen’s Larder and sought out Daisy.
When their eyes met, he spoke not a word, but gave a jerk of his head towards the stairs.
She gave him a cool smile, spoke briefly to the tavern owner, then came from behind the bar, took Miles’s arm and pulled him upstairs to the third room on the right, where, wordlessly, they tore off their clothing and tumbled onto the small bed.