Page 12 of The Widower Without a Will
Wanting to avoid awkwardness around the fact that neither he nor Caroline regularly attended Sunday services, Martin said, “I have heard from Mrs.Bellamy that you are a most active hostess in Thatcham, Caro.Have you any upcoming fetes planned?”
“This is not London society, Papa.I’m not hostingfetes.”
Her tone hovered between belligerent and rude.
But he was not the father who could scold her, anymore.He had to be grateful that she was gracing him with her company.Still, his hackles rose—and in defense of Mrs.Bellamy, too.
Mrs.Bellamy said kindly, “Perhaps I used the wrong word, sir, having no experience of London myself.What would you call your spring event, Mrs.Chow?A gathering?”
Caroline had the grace to look a little embarrassed that her vitriol had landed on poor Mrs.Bellamy instead of Martin.“Yes, I suppose so.After all, there was neither dancing nor music.We were congratulating each other on surviving the winter, as well as raising money to send Daniel Cropper to Edinburgh for medical school.”
Martin resented her use of “we.”Was he not a part of Thatcham, at least enough to be invited to a spring gathering?“I should have been happy to make a contribution.”
“You were in London.”
He could still have sent money.He would havehappilysent money, if only she had asked.
“Uncle Maulvi collected a contribution from Northfield,” Caroline added, “so do not worry that anyone thinks you have shirked your duty.”
As if all that mattered to him was the appearance of benevolence.Or as if all that mattered from the transaction was that the money was exchanged—whether Martin knew about it or not.He swallowed back his objection.“Then I shall thank Uncle Maulvi when next I call on him.”
They all seemed to mutually recognize a safe topic.Eddie said, “We stopped in on him this morning, and he was looking well, all things considered.”
“Such a kind man,” Mrs.Bellamy added.“He and my late husband enjoyed several long discussions about faith and theology, though Mr.Bellamy never expected to find anything in common with a Mohammedan.”
Caro smiled.“No doubt that is why he and Papa are so well suited.They both like to debate things to death.”
Martin wanted to add something to this turn of conversation.But when he opened his mouth to call Maulvi his best friend, the words died in his throat.
It was too much like eulogizing the man—and Martin still clung to the hope that he would never have to do that.
Clearing his throat—tucking back all the emotion that threatened to emerge—Martin asked Caroline, “And how are you feeling these days?”
She was several months into her first pregnancy, with the baby expected in the winter.“I feel fine, Papa.”This time, her tone bordered on fond.“Eddie sees to my every need.”
Eddie’s hand covered hers as she said it, and they exchanged a small, secret smile.That was one thing Martin had never doubted: Eddie was and had always been devoted to Caroline.
Still, it was strange to imagine his grandchildren growing up as the children of a glazier instead of peers of the realm.
“I have invited Sophia and John to spend the winter here,” Martin said, “so that John may be at your disposal as the time nears.”John Anderson, who was married to Martin’s daughter Sophia, was one of the most coveted accoucheurs in Britain.
“They needn’t come on my behalf.Midwife Brimble always did right by Ellen, and I’m sure she’ll do right by me.”
Martin wondered if Caro would reply so stubbornly if Sophia had been the one to suggest it, not him.“Why not make use of both the midwife and the accoucheur?Surely it cannot hurt to have two experts in the room with you.”
“All the women of Thatcham are happy with Midwife Brimble.Why should I require an accoucheur when none of them do?”
Martin knew he should not argue back—but when Caroline got this stubborn, he always seemed to respond by digging in his own heels.
Luckily, Eddie interrupted before Martin could make it worse.“If John is here anyhow, Monkey, it couldn’t hurt to have his advice.After all, just remember how the fever took Mrs.Griswick when her baby came in breech…”
“I’m much younger than Mrs.Griswick, and I am perfectly healthy so far.Besides, we can hardly pay John’s fee.”
This time, Mrs.Bellamy cut in before either Martin or Eddie could make it worse.“It’s always different, for every woman and with every baby.No need to worry about it until the time comes, I like to say.”Not quite smiling, she said directly to Caro, “I’d trust Midwife Brimble with my life.”
Caroline’s eyes suddenly shone with tears, surprising Martin.She brushed them away, cleared her throat, and changed the subject.“Is there any news from Benjamin, Papa?Last I heard, you invited him to spend the winter here, too.”
When she said it like that, it sounded as if Martin was begging each of his children to come keep him company until Parliament reconvened.“With Uncle Maulvi retired, I should prefer to prepare Benjamin for Northfield Hall than hire a new steward.After all, my life can only last so much longer.”
