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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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BOOK: Love at the Tower
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“But times are changing,” he continued, “and Laura has reminded me that the house I live in reflects my status. Being totally disinterested in such matters, I did not see what the colour of a wall or the style of the curtains would say to the world. Thankfully she has educated me otherwise.”

Robina nodded.

She was only too aware of how the Lamonts would judge a person by the furnishings in their house.

“So I am embarking upon this series of renovations and, once completed, you will have a room that befits the daughter of a Knight of the realm.”

“Thank you, Papa,” answered Robina gratefully.

“Besides should your stepmother produce children then we will need the nursery.”

Robina's mouth fell open.

She had not considered that as a possibility.

“But Papa, forgive me for my boldness, I had assumed Stepmama would not be interested in children.”

What she really wanted to say was that she thought her stepmother too old to be of child-bearing age!

“She is still a young woman, Robina and it is a very real possibility. Much as I love you, a man desires a son so that he may pass his house and lands on to him as is right.

“You must understand that, being a female, if your stepmother has a boy, he will inherit everything. You will have to prepare yourself for that eventuality.”

Robina sat still in stunned silence.

The notion had not even crossed her mind.

“That is how Robert Hampton inherited his estate. His elder sister was passed over when their father died and all went to him as the elder male.”

“But Papa – it is so unfair!” remonstrated Robina. “Surely whoever may be the eldest should inherit the title and estate?”

He laughed indulgently at her.

“No, my dear, the law is inflexible on this fact. The eldest son, regardless of whether or not he is the eldest child, is always the beneficiary. What do women know of business affairs or running estates?”

Robina felt that the law was not fair and it made her realise just how unstable her situation had now become.

If her stepmother gave birth to a boy, she could find herself forced to live off his charity!

“But you will make provision for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Her father looked at her and shook his head.

“Robina, I would hope that when I come to die, you will be taken care of by your husband. Really, my dear, Laura is correct – it is time that you turned your attentions to finding a husband. I cannot devote so much time to you and it is only right that you seek someone while you are at the height of your attractiveness.”

“But Papa, I have only just returned from France. I have barely unpacked and I want to stay here with you as long as possible.”

He picked up his pen once more to signal that her audience with him was at an end.

“Don't be silly, you must consider marriage as soon as we find you a likely suitor. Laura is already scouring the best of London Society for suitable candidates and I trust you will be compliant with her wishes. I have no desire to be harbouring an old maid in my household!”

Robina felt shocked to her very core. She threw her hands up to her face and tried to compose herself.

‘How could he! Just how could he!' she thought, as tears began to slowly run down her face.

Her father seemed oblivious to her distress. He was once more absorbed in his correspondence.

Turning away she left the library, crying silently.

She wanted to go to her room, but as she ascended the stairs, she noticed two footmen carrying her belongings up to the next floor.

She was about to turn around and go back into the garden when she saw Nanny coming along the corridor.

“Nanny,” she cried out loud.

“What is it, Robina dearest?” she answered.

“Oh, Nanny. Papa does not love me any more!”

“Shhh, not in front of the staff,” she counselled and led her into the morning room that was also on that floor.

Once inside Nanny closed the door and sat next to Robina on the blue silk chaise.

“Oh, Nanny! Whatever can I do? Papa is intent on marrying me off against my wishes. Firstly my stepmother makes it plain she does not want me here and now, Papa. I don't want to marry anyone, yet I feel as if I will be sent up the aisle at the very first opportunity. If and when I marry, I wish to marry for love and not for convenience.”

Nanny patted her hand and helped wipe her eyes as Robina cried profusely.

“My dear, I don't know what to say to you. If your father wishes that you should marry, then that is his right.”

“But it is
not
my desire!”

Nanny paused and then rose and left the room.

When she returned she pressed an old photograph into Robina's hand.

Tearfully, she looked at it – it was of her mother.

She stroked the image of the lovely young face with the wistful eyes.

“Mama would know what I should do now,” she whispered. “If she was here, she would persuade Papa not to marry me off. They married only for love and I cannot understand why he will not allow me the same privilege.”

Nanny touched her and again left the room.

Robina wept copious tears, stroking the photograph and raising her eyes to Heaven.

‘If you can hear me, Mama, up in Heaven, then I implore you – help me! Look down on me and take pity!'

She stayed there for ages talking to her mother and hoping, praying for an answer or divine intervention.

Marriage to a man she did not love!

Robina felt she would surely die if she was forced to do so against her will.

‘I will not allow it to happen to me,' she resolved, looking up to Heaven. ‘Oh, Mama! Help me. Oh, how I
need
your love and advice.'

CHAPTER FOUR

The next day Robina visited the florist to order the flowers for her mother's grave.

“Can it really be a year ago?” asked Mrs. Bentall, the lady who owned the shop. “It does not seem possible, and such a young woman. You must miss her terribly.”

“Yes, I do. I am often frightened that I will forget Mama. There are times when I cannot recall what her eyes were like or her smile.”

The woman nodded her head sadly.

“When I lost my own husband a few years ago, I experienced the self-same thing. But you do
not
forget – God gives us the strength to get through.”

Robina felt somewhat comforted, standing in Mrs. Bentall's shop surrounded by beautiful blooms.

“And will you be placing the order for your father while you are here, too?” asked Mrs. Bentall.

“No,” responded Robina, a little taken aback that he had not already made his own arrangements.

“Will you tell him that he must get his order to me soon if I am to supply the flowers he prefers? He was so particular with the funeral tribute that I would not like to disappoint him.”

“Papa has much on his mind at the moment. I will remind him to pay you a visit.”

After she left the shop, Robina wandered along the High Street. The village was fairly large, almost a small town, and she knew every shopkeeper and tradesman in the place.

They smiled as she passed, saying how happy they were to see her again and it made Robina feel wanted.

‘It's a fine thing when the village people make me feel more welcome than my own father,' she ruminated, as she climbed back into her carriage.

She asked the coachman to take her home.

As they drove along the road, they passed the gates of Hampton Castle.

‘I must pay the Earl a visit very soon,' she decided, as they sped past.

*

Robina had not slept at all well in the blue room.

She had felt so cramped, although she had to admit that it was much easier for Nanny as she no longer had to walk up and down stairs to look after her.

‘Poor Nanny,' she thought, as they arrived home at last, ‘she is not getting any younger.'

She was so glad that Nanny had not been frightened off at the time when her father was at his most unpleasant.

She did not know what she would have done if she had returned to the house to find that Nanny had left.

Robina went straight to the library and saw that the door was shut fast.

She turned away disheartened. She had wanted to tell her father what the florist had said about ordering flowers.

Instead she went to the drawing room and rang for Newman. She did not wish to involve her stepmother in this affair as she considered it none of her business.

After relaying the reminder for her father to order flowers to Newman, Robina went back upstairs.

The house no longer felt as if it was her home.

On the first floor, where her old bedroom had been, the builders were beginning their work. She had not asked her father to see the plans in case he thought that she wanted to interfere.

‘I do wish that Papa would confide in me as he used to,' she thought sadly, as she entered into her new room. ‘I would have liked the opportunity to show him how much I learned whilst I was in Paris.'

She recalled how Madame Lamont had delighted in teaching her how to mix colours in decorating a room and how to create beautiful displays.

‘The French have a way of putting things together that is effortlessly enchanting,' she pondered. ‘If I cannot help Papa with his renovations and use my newly acquired talents, then perhaps the Earl will find them useful.'

She walked to her small desk and began to write a letter to him.

In it she said she intended to call on him the next morning and that she hoped it might be convenient.

She felt rather excited as she sealed the letter and then rang for Molly.

She was a new maid taken on to look after Robina, who only asked her to do things to save Nanny's legs.

Molly came in and bobbed a curtsy.

“Yes, miss?” she said, her sulky mouth pouting.

Molly was round and moon-faced with the distinct air of someone who carried out her orders under extreme sufferance.

Robina did not care for her, but, as she was never rude, she put up with her sullen attitude and slow ways.

“Would you see that this letter is delivered at once, please?” she asked, handing over the letter to Molly.

The girl bobbed another curtsy and took the letter without looking at it.

Robina was convinced that the girl was spying on her and reporting everything back to her stepmother, so the less she knew, the better.

Suddenly the future did not seem so bleak.

She would see the Earl and, if he should accept her offer, it would give her something to concentrate on.

‘And maybe Papa will forget this nonsense about marrying me off. If he can see me visiting the Earl on a regular basis, perhaps I can use him as a smokescreen.'

A new plan was forming in her mind.

Surely her mother had come to her aid in giving her inspiration?

Feeling so much brighter, Robina went off to the stables to spend time with the horses.

‘Yes, that is it,' she decided. ‘I shall let Papa and Stepmama think that there is something between me and the Earl and then, perhaps, they will leave me alone!'

By the time she reached the stables, Robina felt triumphant.

*

The next morning, Robina went down to breakfast to find a reply from the Earl waiting for her.


My dear Miss Melville
,” he wrote,


I would be very delighted to greet you today and although workmen are on site at present, I would indeed welcome the distraction and your wise counsel on points of decoration.

Warm regards, Robert Hampton
.”

“Who is that from?” asked Laura, as she entered the room to see Robina engrossed in the letter.

“It is from Lord Hampton, asking me to pay him a visit this morning.”

“I trust you will be home for dinner tonight,” she responded tetchily, “we have an important guest.”

There was something in her tone that suggested that there was more to it than just a simple dinner.

“Of course I shall,” replied Robina, folding up the Earl's letter.

“Good,” retorted Laura, “I have invited Lord Drury to join us and I want you to be extremely nice to him. He is a rich and powerful man whose wife has died recently, so he is looking for a new one. I think you will do him very well and I want you to look your prettiest.”

Robina stared at her across the table.

“You mean me to encourage this man?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And if I should not care for the gentleman?”

“It matters not whether you care for him or not – I am more concerned what he will think of you. Lord Drury would be such an ideal proposition for you and you would not want for anything.”

Aghast Robina looked at her father for reassurance, but he would not meet her gaze.

‘So I am to be sold off like a prize heifer!' she thought, as she tried not to cry. ‘Well, I cannot refuse to meet him, but I can refuse to marry him.'

Robina remained silent for the rest of the meal.

She felt that her best course of action was to appear to agree while silently rebelling. Besides, if the gentleman proved to be interesting and kind, then perhaps she could take him into her confidence and he would not press her to marry him against her will.

After breakfast she changed quickly into her riding habit and before long was on her way to the stables.

“Good morning, Charles,” she called out brightly, as she watched him fasten Firefly's bit and bridle.

“Morning, miss. I think he's ready for the off. I swear he knew last night, he was that restless.”

Even as she rode off, Robina felt happier than she had done since she had returned home.

The very concept of involving herself in the Earl's renovations was exciting and it would certainly occupy her mind far better than dwelling on the appalling prospect of the evening's dinner.

Arriving at the Castle, Robina noticed that the place was a hive of activity. The builder's cart was in evidence, as were numerous workmen.

BOOK: Love at the Tower
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