Death of a Duchess, Nellie Steele [non fiction books to read .txt] 📗

“Perhaps he has run into difficulty with the arrangements.”

“Yes, perhaps,” I agreed. I continued my incessant pacing as my mind whirled. Robert had planned to go to the brothel. Perhaps he had met with trouble there. The part of town where the brothel was situated was less than desirable. My mind concocted all sorts of scenarios.

I checked on the baby who still slept peacefully in my bedroom. I returned to the sitting room, plopping into the chair across from Ella. I found myself unable to stay there, though, and within moments, I resumed my pacing of the floor.

After another thirty minutes, the door to our suite popped open. “Robert!” I exclaimed as he entered the room. “Thank goodness!”

Noting my flustered tone, Robert asked, “Is everything all right with the child?”

“Yes,” I assured him. “However, the late hour concerned me. I feared something may have happened to you!”

Robert smiled at me and kissed my forehead. “No, I am quite all right, dear,” he informed me. “Though I apologize for keeping you waiting for your supper.”

“Did the arrangements give you trouble?”

“Not at all! I have arranged for her burial tomorrow afternoon. With no family, I saw no reason to delay it. She will be laid to rest at St. Agnes.”

My brow furrowed. While I was pleased to know the arrangements had been completed with no trouble, I pondered why Robert had been delayed. Before I could inquire about it, a knock sounded at the door. Robert crossed to the door and opened it.

Three men entered, carrying a variety of things. “This,” he said, pointing a finger in the air, his eyebrows raised and a grin on his face, “is what delayed me.”

“What is all this?” I questioned.

“A few items for the baby,” Robert answered. He grabbed a cylindrical item from one of the men’s arms. He studied it, his lips pursuing as he stared at the object. “Formula! I am told this is the preferred alternative for a child in the absence of a wet nurse. We shall try it until a wet nurse and nanny can be engaged.”

“And the rest?” I queried as the men set down the remaining items and departed. I stared at a small wooden horse. Brown in color with a black mane and tail, it sat on rockers. A little saddle sat on its back and leather reins flowed from its face to its back.

“Ah,” Robert said, approaching the wooden animal and setting it to rock. “A rocking horse! All the rage these days for children, I am told.”

“A rocking horse?” I repeated, my voice questioning.

“Yes. A splendid surrogate for his nursery until he has his own horse, wouldn’t you say? Though I do not imagine it will be long before I am buying the laddie his first pony!” Robert grinned from ear to ear. He picked up something else. I had never seen anything like it before. “And this is a zoetrope!” He spun a wheel underneath a cylindrical drum. “See, it makes the animal appear to be moving!” He continued on. “And this object is a magic lantern! You insert a slide here and it projects an image onto the wall! Most useful for his education!” My jaw hung open. I glanced wide-eyed to Robert. “Is something the matter, Lenora?”

“No,” I answered, finally finding my voice. “I imagine he will find these items most entertaining as he grows.”

“Yes, it is my sincere hope! I shall have them sent ahead of us with Mr. Langford tomorrow. Henry will return to the castle ahead of us to prepare the staff for the laddie’s arrival. Buchanan will desire notice to prepare the nursery.” Robert glanced around the room. Ella had wandered over to peruse the new items for the child. “Where is the little chap?”

“Asleep,” I informed him, motioning to my bedroom.

“Do you mind if I take a peek at him before supper?” Robert questioned. “If you are too hungry, I shall wait.”

“Not at all,” I responded. Robert followed me into the bedroom and to the child’s makeshift crib.

“A drawer?” he questioned. “Clever, Lenora. Did you give Henry a name?”

“Yes,” I responded. “I hope you shall be pleased with it.”

“I am certain I will be. What is it?” Robert asked, still cooing over the baby.

“Samuel,” I stated.

Robert glanced to me. “Samuel?” A smile spread across his face. “My father’s name.”

“Yes,” I answered, returning his expression. “I hoped it would please you.”

“It does,” he assured me. “Oh, we must also consider his christening. Shall we discuss it over our supper?” He offered his arm to escort me to dine.

“Yes,” I agreed, accepting it. “Though I shall leave the details of godparents to you, Robert. I have no family or even acquaintances who may serve.”

“Hmm,” Robert answered as we navigated to the dining room. “I considered Lord and Lady Sinderby. A lovely couple.”

“Whatever you suggest, dear,” I agreed. “Though…”

“Yes?” Robert prompted.

“Would it be prudent to involve your brother?”

“Edwin?” Robert scoffed. “Lenora, with his behavior toward you, he is the last person I expected you to consider.”

I shrugged. “I only considered him because I regarded it as an olive branch. Perhaps one from which to rebuild your relationship.”

Robert frowned. “He is a drunkard and a troublemaker. Given his behavior of late, the olive branch should be offered from him to me, not the other way ‘round!”

I nodded. “You are correct,” I answered. “I shall not press the matter. Lord and Lady Sinderby are most suitable from my perspective. We shall ask them.”

Robert glanced to me for a moment. “Quite right, yes,” he answered. “I shall write to Lord Sinderby upon our return to Blackmoore.”

Chapter 17

The following day brought bright spring sunshine to Glasgow. Mr. Langford set off early, his carriage laden with the items Robert purchased for Samuel. After lunch, we set off for St. Agnes church, where Robert arranged for Tilly to be laid to rest.

A mix of emotions, I focused myself on tending to Samuel as a distraction. The day warmed enough by afternoon to take