Riverbreeze: Part 1 (27 page)

The doctor stopped in the doorway, willing to
give the reckless, young man one last chance. But Robert didn’t say
a word, just stood there, glaring at the doctor. He didn’t care if
he was hauled in court for slander; he didn’t care that he wasn’t
acting like a gentleman of honor; his parents were dead; his
adoptive father was dead; his wife was dead; he just didn’t
care.

Jamie shook him, frantic and angry. “Say
something!” He ordered. “Be reasonable.”

Robert just jerked his arm from Jamie’s grasp
and turned away.

Jamie let out a frustrated cry.

The doctor straightened. Pointing a finger at
each of the people, he declared, “You are all witnesses. I will
have justice.” And he turned on his heel and left.

Jamie lost all control. He whirled on his
brother. “What is the matter with you today? Have you gone mad?
First you insult Sparshott and get challenged to a duel, and now
you insult the doctor for which you could get sent to the pillory
with a sentence of thirty or forty stripes! How reckless can you
be?”

“Do not stand there and judge me!” Robert
snapped. He stabbed his finger at his brother. “You agree with me.
You hate those treatments as much as I do.”

“But this was not the time…” Jamie was
shaking, dissolving under the weight of his grief. His voice was
now like a little boy’s. “Do you not understand? Rob, I need you
now…”

A keening scream broke the tension between
the brothers. And before they could move, Maureen ran into the
room, crying hysterically. The doctor must have given her the
horrible news as he stormed down the stairs and out of the house.
She dropped to her knees at the side of the bed and sobbed
pitifully.

Robert and Jamie started to go to her, but
Phillip, looking natty in a clean, elaborately embroidered doublet
and breeches, strode in and took control. He was perfectly sober
now and as head of the Tyler holdings, he felt it was his
responsibility to handle this most unfortunate situation.

“Thank God you are here.” The solicitor
said.

Robert rolled his eyes at the solicitor’s
words. Phillip to the rescue. Ha! Robert still felt resentful
towards Phillip even though Maureen had assured him that he
wouldn’t come after Robert again. But Phillip still had not come
directly to Robert and apologized. Robert realized he just couldn’t
stay in this room any longer.

“I’m sorry, Jamie.” Robert said, then he
turned to the girls and murmured, “Ladies…” And to the solicitor,
he said, “If you need me, I’ll be…..somewhere.” He finished, not
knowing where he was going to go. He only knew that he had to get
away from here and he had to find Robin. With Maureen and the twins
here, he assumed Maureen’s eldest daughter would be watching Robin,
but she had her own sister and brothers to tend to.

“Rob, wait…” Jamie called, taking a step, but
Robert ignored him and walked out all on his own and without
looking back.

* * *

Robert found himself standing by the window
in his old bedchamber, looking over Tyler’s property. He felt like
he was in a bubble; he felt like he was all alone, like all those
people out there were still gay and happy and continuing on with
their lives, apart from him. Until they learned of their host’s
death they would be separate from him; they wouldn’t be sharing his
grief, they wouldn’t understand his plight. They wouldn’t know that
his world had stopped for this moment and that time was standing
still while everyone else went on as if nothing had happened.

Silent tears streamed down his face as he
stood, grieving. He had tried his hardest not to cry, he kept
swallowing the sobs, but his sorrow was just too profound. He
didn’t go to find Robin as he originally thought he should. He
couldn’t…he couldn’t face anyone, not even his son. He had found
himself just wandering into the familiar space that he had shared
with his brother for six years, remembering all the times when
Francis Tyler had come into the room at bedtime to wish the boys a
good night. He remembered the moment he had set eyes on the kind
man for the first time, stepping off the boat with his brother,
clutching each other’s hands, shaking from fear and hope and
uncertainty and expectation, waiting while the agent explained the
situation to his boss.

And then he remembered the kindness, his warm
smile, the firm but loving hand on his shoulder, the words of
welcome. Robert remembered the overwhelming relief he had felt and
how he hadn’t been able to control the sobs that had seized him. He
remembered how he had been so embarrassed to be crying like a baby;
he had wanted to show the man he wasn’t a sissified twelve-year-old
boy. But then strong arms enveloped him and Jamie, holding them,
comforting them and Robert had felt himself relent.

The sun was low in the sky now, hanging over
the James River like a huge fireball. Robert hadn’t realized how
long he had been standing in the room. It would be getting dark
soon, but he made no move to light any candles. He simply stayed by
the window and continued to watch as several of the servants lit
torches around the property.

Nathan and Dolnick, the two men Robert and
Jamie would be taking home with them, appeared from the garden
shed, carrying shovels. They headed towards an enclosed area under
a fifty-foot persimmon tree about one hundred feet from the side of
the house. That was where Tyler’s wife was buried and it was also
where Kathleen was buried. And two unfortunate indentured servants
who hadn’t even survived their first summer here, succumbing to the
oppressive heat and the tertian ague.

Back in England they would have been buried
in the local churchyard. All Englishmen and women loathed the
thought of burying their loved ones on their own property in
unconsecrated ground, but unusual circumstances in Virginia, the
lack of sufficient churchyards, the need to bury their dead
quickly, especially in the summer, sometimes the great distance
from any other place and the fact that no ship captain in his right
mind would bring a dead body onto his ship for the 2-3 month trip
back to England, gave families no other choice than to establish
family cemeteries within their own boundaries.

So it seemed the funeral would be held
tonight. How fortuitous that friends and family and two local
priests were already here. There would be more celebrating
afterwards, more food, more drink, more smoking, even gun shooting.
The men would have a ball.

Robert was so lost in his thoughts that he
had not heard the footsteps that signaled Elizabeth’s approach, but
he did hear her sing-song voice, speaking first in French, then in
English. “
Il y a votre papa
. There’s your
papa.”

Robert turned sharply and frowned at her.
When had she started to speak French to
Robin
? He thought. While he didn’t mind so
much that she was speaking French to his son, it was the fact that
she hadn’t consulted him first, just as she hadn’t consulted him
before giving Robin that fine gift. She was already acting as if
she had the right to make decisions concerning his son and he
didn’t like that. But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the
situation because she had put down a squirming Robin and he was
running towards Robert with outstretched arms, shrieking
“Daddy!”

At the sight of him, Robert felt an
overwhelming surge of love. He still had his son, and he knew how
lucky he was. He knew of many parents who had lost children in
infancy or at a tender age and understood the concept of not
allowing yourself to love your child until they had grown to
adulthood when it was almost guaranteed that he or she would live
for many more years. But he couldn’t stop himself from loving his
son with all his heart. Robin was all he had left of Kathleen; and
the lad had proved to be a sturdy, healthy boy.

Robert braced himself against the wall before
scooping him up, and held him so tight; it was amazing the boy
stood for it. His large hand spanned the boy’s back, and Robert
felt the sturdy little body, warm and solid against his own chest,
his chubby legs wrapped around Robert’s waist. Robin still had on
the flannel smock with nothing else underneath it and the moccasins
on his feet, but no longer held the cloth dog. Robert wondered what
had happened to it and wondered what would have made Robin leave it
behind. He didn’t think Robin would ever let that thing go.

When Robert loosened his hold, Robin pushed
back and seeing a single, residual tear appear at the side of
Robert’s eye, gently touched it with his fingertips. “Daddy still
hurt?” His little fingers hovered over the cut on Robert’s
cheek.

Robert smiled lovingly at Robin and answered
softly, “Yes, Robin, daddy still hurt.” But he was not referring to
his face.

Robin ever so gently kissed his father’s
cheek and said, “Aw bettah?”

Robert chuckled affectionately and answered,
“Yes, all better.”

Elizabeth had been watching from the doorway
and now she smoothed her gown and straightened her collar. (Robin’s
busy hands had twisted it sideways; he had been fascinated by the
intricate tatting along the edge). “I’m sorry to interrupt, Robert,
but Jamie asked me to find you. The minister is gathering everyone
for the service.”

He looked startled. “Is it that time already?
I didn’t realize how much time had passed.” He said, feeling guilty
for abandoning all of them.

“It has been over an hour since Jamie and
Phillip brought your father downstairs and prepared him for
burial.” She stated, a slight note of censure in her voice.

Robert groaned. “Are Jamie and Maureen all
right?” He asked. “I shouldn’t have walked out on them like I did.”
He bemoaned.

“You were distressed.” She said, moving
further into the room.

Robert didn’t believe her. He snorted a
little self-derisive laugh. “So was everyone else in the room. No,
I was selfish and I’ve been up here indulging myself while everyone
else has been putting aside their own grief to take responsibility
for what needed to be done. I have not even asked you how you
are.”

“Oh,” She waved her hand in a dismissive
manner. “I’m fine, really. But I am sorry that Evelyn and I didn’t
have more time to get to know our uncle.” She said sadly. “He was
very kind to us from the moment we arrived.”

“Yes, he was an extremely kind man.” Robert
responded in a soft, reflective voice.
And I
should learn from his ways
, he thought to himself.

Robin was getting tired of not being the
center of attention. With the self-absorbed mind of a two-year-old
and with a moist hand pushing on Robert’s face to turn it towards
him, Robin announced, “I eat, daddy!”

“Did you?” He responded automatically. He had
noticed that Robin’s hair was damp and slicked back from his
forehead as if his face had been washed. He felt even guiltier than
before knowing that while he had been hiding in this room someone
else had been watching his son and seeing to his needs. “I hope he
wasn’t a bother.” Robert continued, speaking to Elizabeth, not
waiting for Robin to answer. Robert was more concerned about his
son’s behavior than what he had had to eat. He could pretty much
guess what he had eaten by knowing the menu. And he had also
noticed that Elizabeth seemed more tired looking than she had been
earlier; her face was drawn and her posture was suffering, but he
had to admit to himself she was still as comely as ever.

“Oh, he could never be a bother. He was very
well-behaved. And we even made a visit to the necessary, just in
time.” Elizabeth related with a smile full of pride.

Robin was bouncing in Robert’s arms and with
that moist hand again on Robert’s jaw, pushed his face back to face
Robin, wanting his full attention. “Me good, daddy!” He crowed. “Me
good!”

Robert gently but firmly removed Robin’s hand
from his face, saying, “I’m so proud of you, son. You were a good
boy.”

Robin then twisted in Robert’s arms and
stretched out a hand to Elizabeth, saying, or at least trying to
say
maman
. He had never learned to call
anyone mother or mummy or mama because he didn’t have a mother. He
called Mrs. Chilcott, nanny or nana. So Robert was rather surprised
to hear his son saying, “Ma…ma…” and pointing in the direction of
Elizabeth.

He turned to her, eyebrows raised in
question. She flushed but bravely walked beside them and looked
Robert straight in the eye when she explained. “I’ve been teaching
him to call me
Maman
. ‘Tis much easier than
Elizabeth and we…”

Robert interrupted her. “You’ve been teaching
him to call you ‘
Maman
’?” He questioned,
but it was more like a rebuke. While he didn’t speak French himself
and hardly remembered ten words from his lessons, he had had some
instruction in the language and could pronounce this word
correctly. “
Maman
?” He questioned again
sharply. Kathleen was Robin’s mother, not this presumptuous little
slip of a girl!

Elizabeth ignored Robert for the moment
because Robin was stretching his arms to her, crying, “Ma-maw!
Ma-maw!”

“Maman
.
Maman
.” Elizabeth repeated the words, trying to help
Robin with the pronunciation. She purposely avoided looking at
Robert even though out of the corner of her eye she could see his
disapproving expression.

“Maman
!” Robin cried
triumphantly, pointing at Elizabeth.

“Tres bien
, Robin.”
She praised him with a big smile, then her face guileless, she
explained, “I will be his mother in a matter of a day or two. I was
only doing what came naturally to me.”

“And is it natural for you to speak French to
a little boy?” He asked sharply.

“It is how Evelyn and I were raised, with
both English and French. We speak French to our dogs as well.” She
stated matter-of-factly.