Page 18 of A Foolish Endeavor

Charlotte went directly to Clayton House. She let herself in, glancing at her father’s study, just off the entry hall. Perhaps she might ask his advice before proceeding to the nursery. The door to his study was closed, however, which Charlotte took as a sign that her father did not wish to be disturbed. She climbed the stairs and moved towards the nursery, dreading the encounter. Miles was correct; she and Lavinia had grown closer than ever these past months, but Charlotte knew her sister to be rather high-strung at times, and even prone to sharp words.

Outside the nursery door, Charlotte took a deep breath, then exhaled and fixed a look of concern and love on her face. She pushed the door open, and peered in. Her sister-in-law sat on the carpet with little Dickie, who was on his back, gurgling happily as Lavinia dangled a toy mouse over him. Upon first appearance, Charlotte thought he looked very well, indeed.

“Good morning,” she said softly, as to not startle either of the occupants. Lavinia looked up in surprise, and managed to smile.

“Charlotte, I am happy to see you,” she said. “You have come to see my darling boy?”

“And you.” Charlotte stood a moment, waiting for Lavinia to come off the floor and join her on a nearby bench. But when her sister stayed on the rug, Charlotte used a chair to help ease herself down beside her and her nephew. “I somehow missed speaking with you at church last Sunday, and have been worried about your spirits. You are… well?”

“As well as one may expect when a darling and most beloved son is plagued by such terrible fits as my poor Dickie is.” Her voice cracked a moment and she closed her eyes tightly before clearing her throat and continuing, “I keep wondering why has God forsaken me? I pray for my son’s healing day and night and yet there is little change.”

“There is some improvement, though, is there not?” Charlotte asked. “His fever is gone, he no longer cries endlessly, and perhaps there are fewer fits than when this affliction first came on? Indeed, he looks quite content just now.”

“Content, yes, but only until the next episode comes upon him. He seizes perhaps one or two times less than before. But, oh, sister—it tears my heart to shreds to see him suffer a fit. You cannot know the depth of my misery.”

Charlotte placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “As an expectant mother myself, I can understand some of what you feel. For I know how it would pain me to ever see my future son or daughter in some sort of agony that I am unable to ease.” When Lavinia did not respond, Charlotte looked around the nursery before asking, “Where is Becky, your nursery maid?”

Lavinia gave a sniff. “Oh, that useless thing. I have sent her home. She does not know how to help poor Dickie when he is at his worst. She may as well be a statue in the corner for all the good she does me. No, I will take care of my son—at least for now.”

“But, if you were to bring her back, you could at least go outside for a brief walk now and then, or join the family for meals. It cannot be healthy for you to stay up here all hours of the day… and night.”

Lavinia studied Charlotte, narrowing her eyes. “Did Miles send you here to speak to me?”

Charlotte thought briefly about telling a small lie, but, instead, she gently squeezed Lavinia’s forearm. “Dearest—he misses you.”

Lavinia snatched her arm away. “He knows where I am. He is welcome to come join me in caring for our son,” she said fiercely. “Let him show how much he misses me by staying with me.”

“But, Lavinia, that would hardly be productive for him to sit and watch Dickie every hour of the day. He has much work on the estate to do to help our father. And forgive my frankness, but I do not think it healthy for you, either, to spend every moment inside. You look thin and wan. When was the last time you went out of doors and felt the sun on your face?”

“I have to be here!” Lavinia cried. “I cannot let him suffer a fit without my being here.” At his mother’s angry shout, Dickie began to cry. Lavinia picked him up and held him close, glaring at her sister. “You had best leave me, Charlotte. You do not understand what a mother’s love requires. Perhaps after you give birth you will.”

“Very well, Lavinia. I will come visit again, soon.”

Lavinia did not reply, rocking her still-wailing child. After a moment, Charlotte clumsily rose from the floor and left the two alone.

I have no happy news to share with my poor brother. I will speak to Frederick about this. Perhaps he can speak reason to Lavinia.

By the time Miles walked into Doddington, he was warm and thirsty. He considered going to the tea shop, but realized he desired a more potent beverage. Thinking a moment, he strode with purpose to the ale house that he had frequented with some regularity before he had married Lavinia. Called The Queen’s Larder, the place had a loftier title than its environs—so far from London—displayed, but at least it was clean and the food was, in fact, quite tasty.

As he entered the dim room, the odors of ale and fried onions felt familiar and comforting. He took a seat at a small table in a corner. He hoped he would not see anyone he knew and be forced to make conversation. He was in no mood for pleasantries.

The bar maid came over. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Miles Kendall. We haven’t had the pleasure of your company for some time. You are most welcome, sir.”

Miles peered up at her, recognizing her, although it had, indeed, been some time since he had last spoken to her. What was her name? Melly? No, Daisy. Yes, that was it. An attractive enough thing, with a broad face, rosy cheeks, and light brown curly hair that spilled from under her cap. He could not help but notice her ample bosom nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress, as well.

“Daisy, isn’t it?” Miles said. “Well, I suppose it has been some time since I was here. You know how busy married life can be.”

Daisy laughed. “No, in truth, I do not, sir, for I have not had that particular pleasure. Well, I confess I know of some of the pleasures of married life, but as for having a husband of my own? Thank you, no.”

Miles blinked as he took in her meaning. Such a lack of decorum to speak so, but then, what more might he expect? She was a server in an ale house. Still, her attentions to him, coupled with a sweet smile and sparking eyes, brightened his mood somewhat.

“Well, one must take one’s pleasures where one can, eh?” he replied, jauntily. “Just now, I desire the pleasure of an ale and a pretty girl to take my mind off things.”

“Lucky for you, I can supply both.” And with a wink, Daisy flounced off to get him a mug of ale.

Chapter Fifteen

Gilbert was all eager anticipation for the assembly and a second opportunity to meet the lovely Miss Wells. Now that he and Carter had secured invitations, he felt certain he would be able to make a most favorable and lasting impression upon Miss Wells. She had seemed very open to his discourse at the Landrys’ dinner party, had she not? While he might meet other young ladies who had a sizable dowry, he had already singled her out as the heart to win. For his plan to work, all he need do was dance with her, charm her, and continue in that manner until he felt the time was right to call upon her at her home to begin the formal wooing process. Soon after, he would make her an offer. However, he worried that the first, critical step—gaining a dance might be difficult to achieve, considering her beauty, wealth, and status.