English Rose Ch. 03

Taking her seat, Mae considered her nephew over the rim of her cup. "I've spoken with the doctors at length and the consensus is that he'll be lucky to make it through the winter."

Douglas swallowed against a bitter taste in his mouth that had little to do with the tea. Sabrina noted the sideboard across the room and gestured, "Do you mind?" she asked Mae.

"Of course not," Mae said, watching as Sabrina went to pour a shot of brandy and handed it to Douglas.

Douglas nodded his thanks and tossed back the brandy. "May I see him?"

"Of course," Mae said and rang for a footman.

"I'll stay with Mae," Sabrina said, knowing that Douglas would want to meet with his father alone. Douglas nodded and followed the footman up to his father's suite of rooms.

The Duke's rooms were on the west side of the house and faced south allowing for afternoon sun. Douglas was surprised as he entered by the light, airy feel to the room. It was nothing like the sick room he had bee expecting.

The suite, more a large apartment of rooms, housed a bedchamber, dressing room, separate water closet, sitting room and a small study. Several of the rooms had their own fireplace, two of which were lit despite the warm spring day.

"Hello son," the Duke called having heard Douglas enter, "in here."

Douglas followed the sound of his father's voice and found him in the study. Catching sight of him, Douglas was surprised at the difference is his father's appearance. Sitting in a chair in front of the fire, the Duke appeared small, almost lost in the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Also gone was the healthy golden tone of his skin, in its' place a paleness that only illness could create.

"Hello...father," Douglas said, stumbling slightly over the title.

"Please, sit." Charles indicated the chair beside him and watched as Douglas took a seat. "How was your trip?"

"Very nice, actually." Douglas said. "The weather held out and Sabrina makes a pleasant traveling companion."

Charles smiled. "I bet, Lady Mont...forgive me, Lady Radcliff is a very charming young lady."

"Indeed," Douglas said, feeling awkward. "We were both pleased by the invitation to join you for part of the summer."

"I hope you'll consider staying on longer then that. I don't know what your plans were for the summer. I suspect you had a honeymoon in mind and perhaps some time at your own estates before returning to London." Charles was hoping that Douglas and Sabrina would stay through the holidays; he very much wanted to get to know his son.

"We hadn't really decided yet; there was very little time between settling the contracts and preparing for the wedding." Douglas wasn't ready to commit to staying past a few weeks, not until he understood what it was his father was hoping to achieve. "For myself, I have business in London year round which will require my attention."

"Of course," Charles said, not bothering to hide his disappointment. "You are welcome to make full use of the library downstairs, I know how much you enjoy reading, and I have my own space up here."

Charles missed his son's startled expression as he continued. "I have several men on staff that can act as messengers should you need to send word to London and you're welcome to have your steward join you here. Of course," Charles said, not wanting to pressure Douglas, "I will understand if you need to return to London. There are some things a man must see to himself."

"Thank you," Douglas said. "That is a very generous offer. I will speak with Sabrina this evening and see what she has planned and let you know."

A slightly awkward silence followed, thankfully broken by a discreet knock on the door. "Enter!" Charles called. "Ah, excellent, just set it down over here," Charles said, indicating the small table separating him and Douglas. "I suspect that Mae offered you tea upon your arrival. I thought perhaps you might prefer something a bit stronger."

Douglas watched as his father poured them each a generous measure of brandy, noting the slight shake to his father's hand but refraining from offering to help. "Thank you," he said accepting his glass. "So, how have you been?"

Charles took a long pull on his brandy before answering. "I've been better, I've been worse," he said, shrugging. "They suspect everything from bad humors to cancer of the stomach," Charles gave a disgusted snort. "Not that it matters, whatever it is they can't cure it and I've learned to manage the pain."

"I'm sorry," Douglas said softly and realized that he meant it. He had harbored resentment towards his father for years but none of it mattered in the moment.

"Don't be," Charles said. "My only regrets in life are those that I have regarding you and your mother."

Douglas looked away, unsure if he was ready to hear this.

Charles continued. "I loved my wife," he said. "But I loved your mother more."

Douglas' head whipped around. "Then why did you abandon her?"

Charles didn't flinch from the anger he saw in his son's eyes. "I was already married when I met your mother. She arrived in London in disgrace, disowned by her family and looking for a protector. She was so beautiful," he said, remembering back to those first few days. "She was sweet, like a breath of fresh air compared to the other ladies of the ton. It didn't take long for her to find a protector. I wasn't her first patron," he said. "I wanted her but I was married barely a year and believed in my commitment."

"Her first patron was kind, he helped to get her set up and she learned how to move on the edges of society." Charles considered the last of his brandy. "I could tell that it pained her, that there was a part of herself that was dying inside and it pulled at me. Finally, I approached her and asked if she would consider spending an evening with me. Not in the way it sounds but a night at the theater and a late supper." Charles smiled a bit wistfully, "I guess you could say I started courting her."

"But you were already married?" Douglas asked.

"Yes, and your mother was well aware of that," Charles said. "We talked in the beginning about what it was that I could offer her."

"How was it any different from any other patron she may have found?" Douglas remembered them all. There hadn't been many, his mother was careful in her choices and discreet in her affairs.

"I gave her love which was the one thing she wanted most." Charles said. "Your mother was a smart woman, she knew that she had made a mistake and that a respectable marriage was beyond her. Surprisingly, I don't think that mattered to her. But what she wanted most was to be loved, to share her life with someone that cared for her."

"And you loved her?" Douglas asked.

"I still do," Charles said.

"Then I'll ask again, why did you leave?" Douglas bit out.

"Not because I wanted to," Charles said and then asked a question of his own. "Did you know that you were born one day before your brother David?"

Douglas blinked in surprise. "No, I assumed he was older then I by a few years."

"No," Charles said, not bothering to try and hide the note of sadness at thoughts of his deceased son. "I tell you this because it is directly related to why I stopped seeing your mother - and you."

At Douglas' nod, Charles poured them both another brandy. "Your mother and I were thrilled when we found out she was pregnant. It's not usual for a man to keep two families and while we knew it wouldn't be easy we both thought of you as a gift. Martha, my wife, was also pregnant at the time but due to deliver a month before your mother. I was naive in thinking that you and David being born in the right order would solve everything but in the end it didn't matter. Your mother delivered early and David arrived a day later."

"Still," Douglas interrupted, "you and my mother weren't married so there was no issue with the line of succession."

"No, but you were, in truth, my first born son," Charles said with a hint of pride. "And while I always loved David he was more his mother's son while you...well, one look at you and there was no question who your father was."

"Martha knew, in that way all women do, about your mother and about you. She never spoke of it," Charles said. "That wasn't her way but I knew her well enough to know that she was concerned."

"Your mother also knew and so when I came to see you that first day she told me ever so gently to kiss you goodbye and to go home to my wife and son." Charles swallowed past the lump in his throat. "That was the hardest day of life."

Douglas' head was spinning; everything he'd thought he knew about his father and his relationship with his mother was turned upside down.

"Nothing I said could convince your mother to change her mind," Charles smiled in fond memory. "She could be stubborn when she wanted to be and very determined." Charles indicated his desk. "If you would be so kind, in the right hand drawer is a small wooden box, would you bring that here?"

Douglas went to his father's desk, noting the mess of papers spread across the surface and opened the drawer. Inside sat a worn wooden box, its surface smooth with age and handling.

Charles reached out and took the box from Douglas. Setting it in his lap, he ran his hand across the top before opening it to reveal a stack of letters.

Douglas inhaled sharply as the familiar scent of his mother floated into the room.

"I made her promise, swear on your life that she would write me and respond to any inquiry I made regarding you." Gently, he took out the letters, slipping them from the ribbon binding them together. "She kept her word, writing me of you accomplishment, telling me about you as you grew and changed. Her last letter came right before she died; she asked me to watch over you and thanked me for giving her such a wonderful son." Charles reached out and handed the box, with all its letters, back to Douglas. "She also sent back all the letters I'd ever written and asked that if the time ever came that I give them to you."

"I..." Douglas cleared his throat. "Thank you, I'll take care with them and return them."

"They're yours now," Charles said. "I won't be needing them much longer."

Douglas felt a pain in his chest and realized for the first time the grief he was in store for. Grateful at the chance to finally know his father, he realized that he had found him only to loose him again in a few months time.

Charles reached out and grabbed Douglas' hand with surprising strength. "It's important that you know that I always thought of you as my son, always considered myself your father and that you were never far from my thoughts. I kept my distance out of respect for your mother and the sake of Martha and David."

Douglas nodded. "Did they, your wife and David, did they know who I was?"

Charles gave Douglas' hand a quick squeeze before releasing him. "Martha and I never spoke of it but I suspect that she knew. As for David," Charles paused. "He confronted me once, demanded to know the truth. Apparently, he caught a glimpse of you at one of your clubs. He said at first he thought it was me and to imagine his surprise at walking up to you only to find a younger version of his father and not a glimmer of recognition."

Douglas tried to remember the incident but couldn't place it. "I don't remember." He had very carefully voided ever running into his half brother.

"I wouldn't expect you to. David realized his mistaken and the implications quickly enough and made a quick exit." Charles rested his head back against the chair. "He was understandably angry. Like I said, he was very close with his mother. I dare say it strained our relationship further until his mother found a way to breech the distance. It's one of the reasons I suspect she knew. I'm sure she said something to him, helped him to understand and told him that the affair had ended with his birth."

Douglas was surprised at the absence of anger at hearing of his brother's response to his existence. He had never known the man and couldn't honestly say that he would have reacted any different had their roles been reversed.

Catching his father with his eyes closed, Douglas said, "You're tired, I should let you rest."

Charles opened his eyes. "You'll stay for a while then? Here, at

Arlington Park?"

"Yes," Douglas said. "I'll stay as long as you like."

Satisfied, Charles nodded and closed his eyes. "Good."

Douglas let himself out, relieved to see his father's valet waiting. With a nod, he went to find his wife.

He found Sabrina alone in the garden. Sitting on the edge of a large fountain she appeared to be feeding the fish. He paused, watching for a moment and letting the myriad of emotions visiting with his father had created slip away. She was his light, the one thing in his life that made sense and even with her there remained unresolved issues.

Soon, he told himself, but not today.

Sabrina looked up and caught Douglas watching her. Immediately, he started towards her, pulling her up off the bench and into his arms.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No, yes, I don't know," Douglas said and held her close. Eventually, he released her. "Shall we walk?" he asked.

Sabrina nodded and turned with Douglas heading deeper into the garden. "How is he?"

Douglas considered, "He's resting, I think talking took a lot out of him."

Sabrina listened as Douglas filled her in, sharing with her all that he had learned. "Your mother never told you?"

"No, and I understand now that it's because she thought it was what was best for everyone." Douglas said.

"You don't agree with her decision?" Sabrina asked.

Douglas shrugged. "I'm learning that we can never really understand why people make the decisions they do. We can only trust that it's because they have our best interests at heart."

He wondered if Sabrina would think the same of him when she learned of their shared past. He didn't think so, didn't think that he could offer up the same clear conscious as his father. His had been revenge, pure and simple.

They walked in silence, enjoying the last of spring's warmth and knowing that the days would be turning hot with summer. "If you're agreeable, I would like to stay for a while."

"Of course," Sabrina said. "We'll stay as long as you want."

They settled into a routine, taking breakfast with Mae before Douglas joined his father in the afternoon. Together, Douglas and Charles would sit and talk getting to know each other and sharing moments from their past. Douglas was continually amazed at how much of his young life his father was familiar with.

On good days, they would walk or ride through the estate, Charles sharing his favorite places with his son and teaching him about the details of the estate he was to inherit. The both knew that they were trying to capture a lifetime together in a few, short months.

They had been at Arlington Park for just over a month when word came from London. Sitting at the breakfast table, Douglas was surprised when a note arrived from his steward. Reading quickly, he cursed quietly under his breath.

"What is it?" Sabrina asked.

"There's been a fire in one our factories," Douglas said. He had been working to improve conditions among all of his holdings. Unfortunately, this one was recently purchased and hadn't been renovated to his standards.

"Was anyone hurt?" Mae asked.

"Unfortunately; it appears there were several injuries and a few deaths." Looking up, Douglas caught Sabrina's concern. "I apologize, it appears that I'm going to need to return to London and help sort this all out."

Sabrina nodded, "Of course, would you like me to accompany you?"

Douglas didn't like the idea of being separated from his wife but London in the middle of summer was...unpleasant. "I think it best if you remain here. I shouldn't be gone long; besides, I'll be working and there isn't much in the way of entertainment in town."

"How long?" she asked.

"I won't know for sure until I get there and see the situation for myself," Douglas said. "I'll send word once I have an idea."

Sabrina nodded and rose, "I'll see to your packing and have them saddle your horse."

"Thank you," Douglas said and went to gather his things. He had accepted his father's offer and turned the library into a makeshift study. His father usually rested late in the afternoon and Douglas took that time to work, sending notes to his steward and answering correspondences. Often times, Sabrina would join him, reading or spending time with her needlepoint. It was time he'd come to enjoy and would miss while he was gone.

Sabrina stood beside Douglas waiting as they brought his horse around. Mae had quietly slipped away giving them a moment alone to say goodbye. "I'll miss you," she said.

Douglas looked down at his wife and smiled. "I promise I won't be gone long."

"I know, but I'll still miss you." Sabrina rose up on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. Earlier they had taken time to come together and make love; it had been soft and gentle with an underlying promise.

She watched as Douglas settled into the saddle, his horse shifting underneath him. The young gelding seemed to sense that they were destined for a long run, something he hadn't been able to do since they arrived at Arlington Park. "Douglas," she said as he turned his horse to go, "journey safe."

"I will," Douglas said. For a moment he had thought to hear her say she loved him. Neither of them had given the words yet and he would admit that he was waiting, wanting to hear it from her before telling her the truth. When she said nothing further, Douglas turned and giving his horse his head galloped down the drive.

Sabrina watched him go wondering at her inability to tell him how she felt. She loved her husband, had known that about herself for some time, but something held her back. There was something there between them, something left unsaid that kept her from revealing the truth of her feelings. She feared that she wouldn't be able to tell him the truth of her feelings until whatever it was was revealed.

A new routine emerged in the days that followed Douglas' departure. Sabrina still breakfasted with Mae but her afternoons were spent with her father in law. Having known him since she was a child, Sabrina was thrilled to learn more about him.

Unfortunately, there were times when his illness would flare up, leaving him bedridden for days at a time. On those occasions, Sabrina would sit beside him and read aloud until the laudanum took effect and he slept.

Two weeks later word finally came from Douglas, unfortunately in the form a note barring his apologies at having to remain in London for another couple of weeks. Sabrina read the letter out loud to Mae and her father in-law, unable to hide her disappointment.

"You should join him," Charles suggested. "There is no sense in you staying here if he's going to be another two to three weeks."

Sabrina looked up from her letter. "You wouldn't mind?"

Sabrina had come to care for them both and didn't want them feeling abandoned.

"Of course not, dear." Mae insisted. "We can certainly fend for ourselves and it's not like you won't be back."

Sabrina bit her lip. "I offered to go when Douglas first left, I got the impression that he didn't want me to join him."

"I'm sure that was true when he thought he'd only been gone a couple of weeks. A month or more without his new bride is another matter," Charles said with a smile. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled if you surprised him. Besides, it would do him some good to take a break from work."

"Well," Sabrina hesitated, not wanting to admit just how much she'd missed her husband. "If you don't think I'd be too much of a disruption to him in London."

"He's not in London," Charles said, taking a bite of egg. "He mentioned that he'd being staying at West Haven."