Page 67 of A Landscape of Love

Miss Hastings’ voice could be heard throughout the house and Hart and Fidelia stepped inside just as a pink-cheeked, flustered looking woman, similar in shape to a generously rounded cottage loaf, ran into the hallway.

“Where’s the fire?” she demanded, puffing indignantly as she looked around at the assembled company.

Miss Hastings ignored this and handed the boy into the woman’s arms. The child was clinging to her, aware there was tension in the air.

“Mama?” he wailed anxiously, his chubby arms holding tight to her neck.

Fidelia sucked in a sharp breath, and Hart tightened his grip on her, wishing there were something he could do, some way he could bear the pain for her.

“It’s all right, darling,” Miss Hastings told him, giving the boy a reassuring smile as she smoothed his ruffled hair. “You go with Joanie to the kitchen, and she’ll give you a biscuit for being such a good boy.”

“Everything all right?” Joanie asked suspiciously, taking the boy from her, and glancing at everyone with intelligent blue eyes.

“It will be,” Miss Hastings said, her voice brooking no argument. “You run along now, Joanie.”

“Righto, Mira. You call me if you need me, eh?”

Elmira nodded, giving them all an unloving look before turning and striding down the corridor. She did not invite them to follow. They did anyway, arriving in a bright front parlour strewn with books and journals and toys. Elmira stood before the fireplace, arms folded, apparently ready to do battle. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Hart realised he had been right to feel such concern.

“You’ve got a nerve,” she said to Fidelia. “You think you can swan in here after five years when you didn’t give a snap of your fingers for him until now? How dare you? How dare you when you gave him away as though he was nothing, just an inconvenience to your nicely ordered—”

“That’s enough!” Hart said, his voice hard and forceful enough to make Elmira jump.

She glared at him too, a lioness defending her young.

“Think you frighten me, do you?” she started, only for Larkin to intervene.

“Elmira, for heaven’s sake, calm down. You don’t understand. Let them explain.”

“Explain what, that they’ve come to take my boy away from me?” she said with a sneer. “You have, haven’t you?”

“He’s my child,” Fidelia said, holding Miss Hasting’s furious gaze without blinking.

“So what? Were you the one who changed him and fed him and sat up nights when he was poorly? Are you the one that faced the shame of having a child and no husband? Are you the one he calls out in the night for? Will he cry for you if you go away and leave him? Does he love you?” she demanded in triumph.

Fidelia’s face crumpled and Hart glared at Miss Hastings, despite understanding her side of the story. It was too cruel, after everything she had endured, to put his wife through this pain.

“And whilst you’ve been living your life all this time, you think you can come in here and leave with my boy?” the young woman demanded, every line of her body taut with the desire to fight with everything she had.

“No.”

Hart swung around to look at his wife, too astonished to speak. She was white-faced and taut with the effort of holding her emotions in check, her voice resigned but steady. “I did come here to take him from you. He’s my boy, my baby and I have dreamed of this moment for so long. He has been all I could think of, all I have wished for. You cannot know how I have longed for it, but how can I find happiness in a moment that will frighten and cause him p-pain. I see now that… that I cannot do that to him. He believes you are his mother, and you are, for you have l-loved him and cared for him and given him a h-home,” she added, her voice trembling before she broke down entirely and turned blindly to Hart.

“Oh, love,” Hart said, pulling her into his arms. Fidelia clung to him and sobbing so hard he did not know what to do, what to say. He wanted to rearrange the world to make her happy, but how could he snatch a little boy from the only mother he had ever known, from the home where he was safe and loved? It was an impossible situation, and once again Fidelia must bear the pain of it. He wanted to howl with rage for the injustice of it all.

Yet his wife was a miracle, so much braver and more loving than even he had guessed. Setting her own grief aside, she pushed out of his embrace and dried her eyes, facing Miss Hastings once again. The young woman was looking uneasy now, for no one could have witnessed Fidelia’s obvious distress and remained unmoved.

Hart let go of her reluctantly but remained close, his grip on her hand tight as she clung to that connection.

“Miss Hastings,” she said with quiet dignity. “My father took my baby from me within moments of his birth. I barely got to look at his sweet face before he was torn from my arms. It was not my choice. I wanted my son. I have wanted him and worried for him and loved him for the past five years, but my father has kept me a prisoner at Hardacre, and I did not know where he had taken my boy, or what he had done with him.”

Hart looked up to see Elmira’s face was ashen now. The young woman dropped her aggressive stance and sat heavily on the arm of the nearest chair. “I-I didn’t know that,” she admitted. “The footman gave me a hand-delivered letter. It had been raining and the ink was smudged, but it was clearly addressed to E. Hastings. My brother and I often got our post mixed up as we have the same initial. E for Edward, and E for Elmira. He had gone to join his regiment that morning as they were shipping to India at the end of the week. The note was from your father. I’ll never forget the words, so callous and impersonal.”

Fidelia made a choked sound. “Oh, that sounds like his grace.”

Elmira nodded. “It said, ‘this is to inform you that your bastard son was born this morning. I will leave him at the foundling hospital in Camden at midnight tonight, as you have declined to make other arrangements. I hope you enjoy your time in India. It pleases me to tell you I have ensured your duty there will be as uncomfortable as possible.’”

Hart’s chest hurt as he watched a tear roll down Fidelia’s face and he clasped her hand between both of his, silently offering his support.