Chapter 8
No. 19
A child shall never be scolded in anger. While a need for discipline exists, if one finds herself losing a grip on her state of total calm, she should take a few moments and recover before continuing.
And should someone else break this important rule, the Everton lady must and will take action.
—The Everton Companion
Rules of Conduct
Whenever Markus made progress away from his sorrow, life reminded him nothing would ever be the same. His attraction to Phoebe might not be wrong in the strictest sense of propriety, but it wasn’t right, either. Emma’s friends surely were off limits. But there was something about Phoebe that was not there before when she visited Emma. Perhaps all of this was just because they had both suffered a recent loss.
After all, Phoebe’s grandmother had died only a year before. She had suffered a long battle with her health. She was lucky to have had someone to care for her.
Emma was gone only…He had to think. How long had it been since he lost his sweet wife? There had been snow on the ground. His stupidity at thinking he could drink away his sorrow had robbed him of so much.
Markus walked out the door into the chill of the garden. There would be snow soon. Could it be two years since Emma’s death? Of course, it was. Elizabeth would be two in a few weeks. His loss was not so recent, yet it hurt as if it were yesterday.
Gripping his coat to his chest, he walked the path to the stables.
He’d only ridden out of need recently. Once he’d gotten a lot of pleasure from his horses.
A tall black named Warrior strode to the fence, pranced, and puffed clouds from his nostrils.
Markus petted his soft nose. “Good to see you too, boy. I hear your old friend Duck is still caring for you. You are in good hands in my absence.”
“As if you cared.” The gruff voice of Duck growled from the corner of the barn.
With one last pat for Warrior, Markus turned. “I have been neglectful.”
“You look about to drop. Are you ill?” While the question sounded concerned, the tone was more bark.
Drink and lies had brought his life to a standstill. It was time for honesty. “I was thinking of my wife.”
Duck’s sharp brown eyes shifted to the ground. His hands were swollen at the knuckles as he rubbed the leather harness he held. “She was a good woman, your lady.”
Markus walked forward until he stood in front of Duck. The man’s knuckles were swollen and he winced as he put the harness on a hook near the door. He’d been caring for all these animals with little or no help for months without pay. Shame staggered Markus. Pulling his shoulders back, he stared Duck in the eyes. “I lost myself in my grief, Duck. It is not an excuse, but it is a fact. I found solace in the bottle. I am not proud of these things, but I mean to make amends for the wrong I have done.”
“That baby of yours needs your amends more than old Duck does.” Duck sat on the bench next to the barn and patted the place beside him.
It was only a small gesture of kindness, but Markus swallowed down tears threatening. “Elizabeth has suffered the most from my neglect. It is beyond me how I will fix that. Though I intend to spend my lifetime trying.”
“She is like her mother and will have already put it in the past.”
Emma had forgiven him anything without even the need of an apology. He had often scolded her for letting him and everyone else get away with any manner of transgression. The servants adored her but often took advantage. Even when he scolded her, he admired her capacity for forgiveness. “Emma was a much better person than I am, Duck.”
“You’ll forgive her one day, my lord.” The sharp edge was back in his eyes.
“Forgive who?”
“Lady Emma.”
“She is dead, or have you forgotten? I have nothing to forgive her for. She is dead.” His heart tightened painfully and he gripped his chest. Unchecked fury surged to the forefront, squashing his dreaded anguish.
Duck nodded. “She left you. She died and left you all alone, tore the love out of your life and left you in tatters. It’s a hard thing to forgive.”
Markus dashed away a rebellious tear. “What do you know, old man?”
“It took me three years to forgive my boy for going to heaven when he was only nine years old. I was better prepared for when my sweet Gail was called home. Still, I was angry as you are now, my lord. It may be too soon, but one day you’ll have to forgive her.”
Forgive Emma? Markus pounded his fist on the bench, sending a shock of pain to his shoulder. She forgave his stupidity, drinking, antics, tantrums, and his horrible parents when they visited. All he had to forgive her for was dying.
Duck struggled to his feet and faced Markus. “Now, what was it you came all the way to the stable to say to me?”
Standing, Markus fisted his hands at his sides. The fury threatened to overwhelm his purpose. “I came to offer my apologies for my behavior. I would like for you to stay on here and allow me to pay you for your time spent. I will hire you as much help as you need and hope you will train your successor when you are ready to be pensioned.”
“I accept your apology, my lord.” Duck stuck out his gnarled hand for shaking.
Surprised by the strength of the shake, Markus still swallowed down the desire to punch the old man in the face. “Good.”
“It’s a start, son.”
Emma’s eyes flashed behind Markus’s closed eyes. He shook his head to clear it. “I will saddle a horse and go for a ride.”
Handing Markus the bridle from the hook, Duck nodded. “Take Warrior. He’ll take care of you.”
Warrior stomped and tossed his head, his black mane swooshing through the air, in favor of the suggestion.
Markus saddled the stallion while Duck ambled away. Never would he have imagined a conversation with Duck of all people would bring out such overwhelming emotion, but he had to wipe tears from his eyes to secure the girth. Once in the saddle, he rode south until he and Warrior were both exhausted. Tears streaked down his face, freezing in the cold wind.
Standing in one of his fields at the far edge of his property, he felt nothing was real anymore. His life a distant memory and the life he once had gone forever. Choices had to be made: a lifetime of misery and self-loathing, or possible happiness. Rage burned in his belly like the fires of hell. He’d been punishing himself for two years to avoid the truth. His fury at the person he loved most had sent him over the edge of reason and left him for dead. If he could have died with Emma, he would have been perfectly content. Many times, he wondered if death was not preferable to the purgatory he was living. His heart beat on, no matter how much he prayed it would stop.
Warrior stomped the frozen ground.
Markus walked a few feet away leaving the horse to munch on the stubs of harvested crops poking up from the soil. Walking to the edge of the forest that bordered his land, he turned and gazed back. Hope died with the sight of nothing but rolling fields of a spent growing season. Clouds grayed the sky, blocking the sun and bringing gloom to his already dead soul.
Emma did not stand waiting for him to arrive home after a long journey. Never again would she smile and tell him to calm himself. There would be no gentle touch when he drank too much at a house party to remind him of his duty to not become like his father. She had left him, not of her own free will, but she had left him alone in the world. For years, he poured all his love into her, matching her goodness with as much heart as he could spare. An empty shell remained and he didn’t know how to fill it.
Elizabeth’s sweet smile and infectious laughter brought some sense back.
Tears freely rolling down his face, he knelt. The cold seeped into his bones. “Emma, what am I to do?”
The wind howled from the north.
“You were the only thing keeping me from madness. I have become my father without you.”
Warrior blew a frustrated puff from his nose and kicked out both back legs.
“How do I go on? Father would drink until he forgot or did not care, but Elizabeth has suffered enough. I want to be the man you loved, but without you, I do not know how.”
The temperature dropped a few more degrees with the whip of another wind.
“I have not had a drink in over a week, but I long for one daily. Phoebe has come to help get the house in order. She and Elizabeth are fast friends. She cares for Elizabeth as if she were her own babe. I wish you could see.”
Warrior clomped closer and nudged Markus’s shoulder.
Markus petted Warrior’s silken nose and sat on the cold ground. “What do I do? I have not had a drink. Rosefield is coming back together. I see my daughter, my sweet Elizabeth, and have fallen in love with her. But, Emma, I cannot forgive you. I want to, but I cannot. You left me with nothing.”
Shivering in the dropping temperatures, Markus leaned his head against Warrior’s lowered nose. He cried until his bones ached and his tears spent. “I must go home before I freeze to death, Emma. Tomorrow I will try to forgive you.”
He stood and ran his hand down Warrior’s neck. It was comforting to have the horse with him, nudging him back into the saddle. Climbing up, he took a breath and headed for home. His tears abated, replaced by a sense of calm he’d not had in a long time. The time for mourning was passed, and indulging in self-pity had to stop. Becoming a man like Father left him empty and beaten. He wouldn’t have it.
Having ridden Warrior hard to reach the edge of his land, he did not exceed a trot on the way back. Killing the horse was not in his plans. At the stables, he took the saddle and bridle off Warrior and brushed the horse down. Extra feed and water in his stall, Markus gave him one last pet along his sinewy neck before walking to the house.
In the few hours he’d been gone, several staff members had arrived to take their posts. Those he remembered from before he’d started drinking he asked to see in his study, where they each received an apology and a bonus check. It was not enough, but it was a start.
Anna, an under-maid, blushed and thanked him as she rushed to leave the study with her bank notes in hand.
“You may leave the door open, Anna.”
“Yes, my lord.” She curtsied and ran out.
Markus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“You are a willful and stupid child. I see I have my work cut out for me. Let to run like a wild animal. You are too stupid to even speak. What on earth am I to do with a mute imbecile to govern?” The unfamiliar female voice cut through his moment of peace.
His chest tightened and he stormed toward the hallway.
“Who do you think you are speaking to in that manner, Mrs. Horst?” Phoebe’s voice was sharp and as scolding as the new nanny’s.
Markus halted in the shadows of the door. Phoebe was too far to the left for him to see, but he had a good view of the hawk-nosed Mrs. Horst and her crisp navy dress with bright white cuffs. Not a single hair escaped her cap, and she narrowed her eyes in Phoebe’s direction.
“It is my job to educate this child. I will thank you not to interfere, Miss Hallsmith. After all, you are no one in this house.” Mrs. Horst smoothed the front of her dress with a deliberate stroke.
“Elizabeth, come here.” Phoebe said.
Elizabeth scurried down the hall.
“In this house, we treat each other with respect. I do not pretend to know what lesson you believe you are teaching by demeaning this child, but it will not happen while I am in charge. Since my time here at Rosefield is short, Mrs. Horst, you may consider your duty here completed.”
Markus’s heart leaped and he wanted to cheer.
Mrs. Horst’s face twisted in ugly rage. “You have no right to sack me.”
“I hired you, Madam, and I can fire you just as quickly. In fact, I just did.”
“You have no right. I will go to his lordship.” She stomped her booted foot.
Phoebe marched into view fists on her hips and Elizabeth clinging to her skirts. “You may do as you please, but you will never speak another word to this child. Lady Elizabeth deserves a nanny who will encourage and cherish her, not a bitter, angry banshee. Do what you like, Mrs. Horst, but do it elsewhere.”
“I will see his lordship. You will be the one leaving.”
Had anyone ever defended him like that? He hoped his little Elizabeth would always have an advocate like Phoebe to stand at her back. Swallowing down a wave of emotion, Markus stepped into the hall.
Both woman stared, wide-eyed.
Elizabeth smiled, showing all her shiny new teeth.
Having been raised by bullying parents, he knew what it was like to be called stupid. Finding good friends and having a kind nanny was the only thing that had saved him, if he was saved. “You have seen me, Madam. Now you can repack your things and get out of my home. You should count yourself lucky I do not have you flogged for speaking to my child like that. Further, you are fortunate Miss Hallsmith got to you first. I might have physically tossed you from the house had I not had the time to calm my fury.”
Stammering, Mrs. Horst made to argue.
Markus pointed toward the stairs. “Go and pack, or I will have you removed with just the clothes on your back.”
She ran up the steps, mumbling about pantywaists and madmen.
Lifting Elizabeth into her arms, Phoebe said, “I suppose I must start again to find a proper nanny. I apologize for hiring that woman. On paper, she is quite qualified.”
“No apology necessary. I should have listened to your caution and demanded references. One never truly knows from a letter or resume.” He took Elizabeth from her arms. “She really was lucky you got to her first just now.”
Phoebe’s lips quirked into half a smile, making him long to kiss her. “I am certain she knows that now. You were quite intimidating, my lord.”
“I used the same tactic when you first arrived and it had no effect.” He kissed Elizabeth’s forehead.
“I am not easily cowed. Perhaps it is because I have always had to deal with my brothers.”
Elizabeth popped her thumb in her mouth and rested her head on his shoulder.
“She’s tired. Shall I put her to bed, my lord?”
“My name is Markus and I will take her up, Phoebe. You should get some rest. You look a bit worn out yourself.”
“I might say the same about you, Markus.” She walked to the servants’ door to the kitchens.
“I too had a trying morning.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” Her eyes rocked him with her concern shining within.
He swallowed. His arms and legs ached from the hard ride on Warrior and his head pounded from spent emotion. “Perhaps, but not just now. I will put this bundle to bed, then find my own for an hour. Rest is just what I need. Suddenly, I feel about to drop.”
“I will just let Mrs. Donnelly and Watson know that Mrs. Horst will be leaving us.”
“I’ll see you at dinner, Phoebe.”
She cocked her head, hand resting on the door. A blush rose in her cheeks and traveled down to where her breasts rose above the cut of her dress. “Yes, dinner. I will see you then, Markus.”
He shook off the distraction and longed to know why she blushed. It might have been easier to ask her rather than wondering, but there was something delicious in pondering her emotions.
Elizabeth’s fingers curled in the back of his hair, and he kissed her nose. “You and I could both benefit from some rest, my darling.”
He put her in her crib and tucked the blanket around her. Already sleeping, she continued sucking her finger and sighed.
Having missed her entire life thus far, regret flooded Markus as he brushed her curls away from her cheek.
In the hallway, Mrs. Donnelly rushed toward him. “My lord, I was just coming to help you.”
“With what?”
She searched around him. “With little Elizabeth.”
“She is asleep. I go to rest awhile as well. Did you need anything before I retire?”
Mrs. Donnelly fidgeted with a handkerchief. She worried the material to a twisted mess. “I will assign one of the new maids to check on her every few minutes.”
“That will be fine, if there is one you trust with the task.” He didn’t like the idea of a stranger too close to his daughter.
“Faith has returned, my lord. She was here when little Elizabeth was born. I will have her take charge until Miss Hallsmith finds a suitable nanny.” She fisted her hands, standing rigid.
“You think it was a mistake to let Mrs. Horst go?” His housekeeper’s opinion shouldn’t matter, yet she had stayed with him. She loved Elizabeth, and it was strange for her to show temper. If it was directed at him, he wanted to know.
Her expression softened. “I didn’t like that one from the moment she set foot in the house. Too haughty by half if you asked me.”
“Indeed. She was not appropriate for Elizabeth. I am sure Miss Hallsmith will rectify the situation soon.” Yes. Phoebe would fix everything. It was what she did if he was any judge of people.
“Have a good rest, Sir. You look ready to fall out.”
He drew in a long breath. “It has been a trying few days.”
Pity edged the wrinkled skin around Mrs. Donnelly’s eyes. She turned and went into the nursery.
The hallway stretched longer than ever before as his legs struggled to carry him to his own bed. Once there, he flopped on the mattress fully clothed and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep would not come despite his exhaustion. Duck’s words spiraled through his mind and refused to cease. There was a catharsis in apologizing to Duck and the other returning staff. Markus’s heart was lighter with the understanding that he needed to forgive sweet Emma.
He dragged himself from the bed and crossed to his writing desk in the corner. Dark clouds rolled in as he pulled paper and pen from the drawer. He wrote to his sister, Dorothea, first. His first letter had been all about himself. It was starting to be clear how selfish he truly was. He had neglected her, not been to her concert at the Royal Music Hall. She had done something no woman had done before, and he had been too self-absorbed to attend. He would always regret missing her moment in the sun. He ended the note with an invitation to visit and a suggestion to bring Mother along.
Sighing, he let the dread of that apology shake him. It had to be done and he deserved whatever censure Mother would deliver. He did not extend the invitation to his father. If the blackguard joined the party, he would deal with him. It was an unlikely problem, as Dory and her husband, Tom did not associate with Father any more than Markus.
Once the message was addressed, he rang for Watson and asked it to be posted immediately.
Another layer of dread lifted from Markus as he handed the missive off for delivery. He removed his clothes and climbed into bed.