Drake turned away to look at the swaying trees around them. He couldn’t bear to look at her any more. ‘So she married Mawgan because she thought I did not stay to help her.’
‘Yes. The marriage almost did not happen.’
‘Did she change her mind?’ asked Drake, despising the sound of hope in his voice. What was the point of feeling hopeful when he knew she had married and was out of his reach? He turned round to see Tilly shaking her head.
‘No, I’m not sure she ever really made up her mind,’ said Tilly, standing up. ‘Sir Robert felt it was his duty to inform her cousin that she had attempted to elope. All the staff thought Mawgan would withdraw from their courtship, being a proud gentleman and having a reputation of his own to protect.
‘We heard nothing from him so Doctor Birch arranged for the clinic attendants to collect Miss Evelyn a few days later. It was terrible. As they escorted her from the house to the waiting carriage, her mother began to cry and her father locked himself in his study. Neither could watch. Then her cousin arrived and everything changed. Miss Evelyn did not resist and any doubts she had were never spoken of again. They were married as soon as the banns were called. He saved her, Drake. They are a married couple now. I am not proud of my part in it, but it has worked out for the best.’
‘Best for who?’ challenged Drake as he swung around to face her. He searched Tilly’s face for a reply. She was worried too. He could see the self-doubt in her eyes. He would answer the question for her for he wanted her to know the damage she had done. That they had all done. ‘It did not work out the best for me, Tilly, and if I know Mawgan, Evie will not be happy either. You have meddled for your own selfish reasons, so don’t try to sugar-coat your deception. You have betrayed the very people you cared about. I hope your actions play on your happiness, just as they have destroyed mine.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Drake set his walking cane against the wall and attempted a step without it. His knee felt weak, but at least it did not buckle as it had done before. He took another step and another, the muscle of his thigh tightened; he took a deep breath and willed it to relax before retracing his steps back to his cane and reaching for it. He grasped it without misjudging the distance. Things were improving. It was time he returned to work.
‘Leaving?’ asked his mother a week later. ‘Where will you go? When?’
‘Tomorrow.’ Drake showed his mother the letter he had received that morning. ‘Mr Morley needs someone to oversee his designs and he has asked if I would like to take it on.’
‘Who is Mr Morley?’ asked his mother, taking the letter from him to read it.
‘A prominent landscape architect. He has designed some improvements to the Earl of Buckinghamshire’s parkland and was midway through overseeing its construction, when he was taken with a wasting illness. It is a good opportunity for me and will concentrate my mind.’
‘Are you well enough?’
‘I have improved, which is all I can expect for now,’ said Drake.
His mother chewed her bottom lip as she watched her son limp towards the door. ‘Where are you going now?’
‘There is someone I wish to say goodbye to before I leave.’ Drake turned and looked at his mother’s pained expression. ‘Don’t fret. It is not who you think it is. She is married. There is no place in her life for me now.’
* * *
White bulbous clouds cast a chilly shadow over the cemetery, whilst a strong breeze rustled the leaves of the trees that lined its three boundary walls. Drake carefully made his way up the large granite steps, which led up to the graveyard and followed the path around the grey, empty, church to the cemetery beyond. Drake paused and looked across at the grey headstones, which varied in size and grandeur, each one reflecting the depths of the deceased relative’s pockets and standing in the world. Today, no one visited them. The cemetery was empty and each grave appeared as abandoned and as lonely as the next. Drake felt the sorrow that emanated from each story of their death. However, he was glad there was no one around. He had no wish to make small talk today. He had come to visit his father’s grave and say his goodbyes.
He found Timmins’ grave under the trees. It was just a mound of earth as it was too early for a gravestone. He had heard that Sir Robert was going to provide one. He would not object. To do so would cause folk to ask questions and his mother did not deserve to have her secret told now. No one, but Evie, would ever know that Timmins was his father. Some secrets are best kept.
Drake stared at the mound of earth. He thought he would have something to say, to shout, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps some feelings just can’t be put into words. Perhaps he was too raw, too mixed-up in his head. He looked up at the swaying branches above his head for inspiration. For help.
What did he feel,really feel, deep down inside? Angry? Hurt? Disappointed? Grateful for all that Timmins had taught him? He blinked away the stinging pain in his eyes and shook his head. No, none of those things. He felt cheated. That is how he felt. There would never be an opportunity to get to know him as his father. His future was going to be different to how it couldhave been. Now it would be littered with missed opportunities and moments they could have shared together if he had lived.
When Richard Vennor had died, he had learned to live with not having him in his life, but at least he had memories of having him as his father. Now he would have to learn to live this way all over again, with a man who had never filled that role in the first place. How do you fill an empty hole inside you when you have no memories of how it could have been?
‘The apprentice grieving the loss of his mentor.’
Drake felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he recognised the voice. He turned to see Abel Hicks approaching. His dirty clothes hung from his thin frame and he looked in need of a wash, but at least today he appeared sober.
Drake’s hand tightened on his cane in readiness. ‘I have nothing to say to you, Hicks.’
‘Getting too high and mighty for the likes of me?’
‘Get a grip man and tidy yourself up. You stink.’ Drake passed him and began to walk away.
Abel followed. ‘You have always had it so easy, Vennor. Girls . . . work . . .’
A muscle tightened in Drake’s jaw, but he continued to ignore him.
‘Your mother did her best to keep Timmins happy. That must have helped.’ Drake stared hard at the ground in front of him as he walked. ‘Wish I had a mother who was so willing to offer comfort.’
