Page 18 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
“I’m as hungry as Highland coo on bare pasture,” exclaimed Aileen. It was well into the afternoon. “Would ye care to join me for a bite?”
Robert looked up, surprised but pleased. “I would enjoy that very much.”
She bustled over to the counter and pulled several hand pies from a basket. Then she went to the back to make tea. While she was away, Robert unwrapped the pies and placed them on a table. He took the tray from Aileen when she reappeared.
“Now where were we the other day?” she asked, settling herself on top of a stool.
He enjoyed their midafternoon talks. He had learned about her husband and how they had bought this shop. When he’d been taken by a fever, she had hired a young Annis to help her with the bookstore. A few years ago, tired and ready to enjoy the remainder of her years, she’d sold the business to Annis. Rather than having Annis take on such a hefty payment, Aileen accepted the sum Annis had put away over the years, then a portion of the monthly income was put in an account for Aileen until the rest of the balance was paid.
“You realize you probably won’t live to see the loan paid off,” Robert said with a smile.
“I have one daughter who is a pain in my arse,” she said. “Annis has been here for me, and my daughter is married to a verra wealthy merchant. She has no need for my money or the desire to take over the shop. I’m content with my arrangement.”
“I can see that. You’re a kind woman, Mrs. Douglas.”
She beamed. “It’s no’ that I dinna love my daughter, but she has more English interests. Prefers London society over Glasgow’s. My granddaughters, however, take more after me. I considered giving the shop to Fenella.”
“But?”
“She married Lachlan MacNaughton, and keeping the accounts for the textile mill keeps her busy. She’s got a head for numbers, that lass.” Aileen slapped her hand on the table. “Now, ye were telling me about yer wife and son. She hadna wanted to marry either?”
Robert pulled in a breath, stalling. This was what he longed to explain to Annis. It would be good preparation to tell Aileen. “Caroline had been enamored with another man. Unfortunately, the rake wasn’t interested in wedded bliss. She was too embarrassed to tell her family, but a few months later, she was forced to reveal the relationship.”
“She was with child?”
He nodded. “Her father, a prominent member of the House of Lords and an earl, is extremely wealthy, from a very old family. My father pretends to be plumper in the pocket than he is. A love of gambling, you see.”
“We all have our own vices,” she said with a nod.
“Yes, well, my father’s can get him into dire straits at times. He had unpaid vowels with the wrong people. If he hadn’t settled his debt, his reputation would have been ruined. Our family’s honor was at stake.” Robert shook his head as he blew out a breath. “It seems my father and Caroline’s father came to an agreement one night at their gentlemen’s club. Our marriage saved Caroline from ruin and kept my family’s name spotless.”
“So did she have the babe?” asked Aileen, her eyes full of sympathy.
“Yes, Anthony was born.”
“Any other children?”
“No, I’m afraid her first birthing didn’t go well. She almost died. The midwife said she might not survive another, and the chances of conceiving might be slim. Although we tried, we were never blessed with another babe.” He locked his gaze with Aileen’s. “I did care for my wife. She was a fine person. We were both pawns for our families.”
“And Anthony… Does he know you aren’t his father?”
“I am his father in all ways that matter,” he snapped, then regretted it. “I apologize. He doesn’t know I am not his true father. I’ve never seen the need to tell him, but lately, I’ve wondered if I should.”
Aileen patted his hand. “I don’t ken the lad, so ye would be a better judge than me. Sometimes, the truth can be overly righteous. Ye’ve done right by the lad, and that’s what matters.”
He liked Mrs. Douglas, considered her a friend at this point. “When my wife died, she set me free—not by her death, mind you—by bidding me to find the woman of my heart. She knew of Annis, though not her name, and said I deserved happiness.”
“We all do,” Aileen said, studying him. “I’m glad ye shared this with me.”
The bell tinkled, and an older lady with dark hair and eyes, covered by a wide hat with multiple feathers, entered the shop. Her smile was genuine, and she held a leather-bound book against her plump middle.
“It seems we shall continue our conversation the same time, same place tomorrow?” Robert asked with a chuckle. A great weight seemed to shift on his shoulders, a little lighter, a little less daunting.
“Of course,” she said as she rose and swiped away any crumbs from her skirts before greeting the customer. “Mrs. Gelliman, so good to see ye. Have ye come for the novel?”
“Aye, I finished this one, and Mrs. Porter said she had one she had just finished and would put it aside for me.” She handed Mrs. Douglas a book. “Here is Sense and Sensibility. Excellent recommendation. Could you look for The Daughter of St. Omar? The author is Catherine George Ward.”
Aileen checked behind the counter, then went up one set of the winding stairs. She searched several shelves but couldn’t locate the desired book. She came down the steps, breathing heavily.
