Playing To Win

“He has some remarkably fine orchards by now. The house itself is small, hardly more than a cottage. But Father has built a series of succession houses that are the envy of his neighbors. They are forever trading vegetables and discussing bugs and other pests. I am hard-pressed to keep up with it.”

“I would never have guessed it of him.”

“He does have other interests than banking—politics, the theater—but I think when he retires he will take up farming.”

“And what are you interested in?”

“Everything and nothing.”

“What?” Tony asked on a laugh. He had propped his left shoulder against the tree, and was managing a sandwich with his right hand. Sera knelt before him on the white cloth, the ribbons from her hat dangling in the breeze. She looked so young to Tony, he imagined that if he had had a sister she would be as free and confiding as Sera.

“By having any amount of books laid out before me like a banquet, I have nibbled at nearly everything from drama to geometry, but have discovered no overwhelming hunger for any subject. Makes me singularly useless, except as a hostess able to converse on almost any topic—well, knowledgeable enough to ask the right questions. Men are very put off to discover you know more than they do about something.”

“But that is exceedingly useful. Think of all the dull parties you enliven.”

“Usually I settle for keeping the peace. Men do get so passionate over money and politics. What about you? What are your interests?”

“Speaking of being singularly useless...” he said with a frown.

“You drive a team, don’t you?” Sera blurted out, to distract him from depressing thoughts. “I think that would be beyond me.”

“Of course not. I can teach you. Do you ride?”

“Yes. My groom taught me. I can keep Chadwick with me, can’t I? Father has little use for him, and Chadwick does know my horses.”

“You have horses?”

“Only two, and nothing like yours. An old hack that Chadwick rides, and a mare, who I regret to say is also showing her years. I suppose I should replace them, but I can’t bring myself to sell them, since they have served me so dutifully all these years.”

“It’s only a matter of time, and if they are no use...”

“But haven’t you got an odd pasture someplace where they could live out their last years in peace? It would be a treat for them to run loose for a change, instead of spending most of their time in a stable.”

“You’re only putting off...” Tony hesitated to condemn the unseen animals, because of the pleading look Sera cast at him. “Oh, very well. You can pension them off on one of Father’s farms, if you like.” For this Tony received an exuberant hug and kiss that caused him to spill his wine. He returned the embrace laughingly, and Sera was beginning to hope that in time she could charm him into loving her in return. Time was the one thing she had, and patience.

* * *

They had idled away most of the two weeks they had planned to be in Brighton, and Tony had suggested extending their stay another week or so, since it looked like the weather would stay warm, when they received a letter from his mother. Lady Amanda had obviously been in a state when she wrote it. Tony could make nothing out of it and gave it to Sera impatiently to decipher over breakfast. “The only thing I can make out for certain is that someone is ill—your father, I think, or else it is he who didn’t want her to write. I think we must go back. If it were not serious, she would never have written us here.”

“You don’t know Mother. She can be very...possessive.”

“No, you are right, I don’t know her, but we can’t take a chance. Suppose she really is ill...”

“Very well, if you wish it, we’ll go home.” He said it so coldly, she began to think she had lost all her progress with him.

“No, I don’t wish it. I have been happier here than I ever thought I could be.”

Tony looked at her in disbelief, realizing how little he had given her. “You’re right, we must go. I’ll tell Stewart to pack.”

* * *

They reached Oak Park late that afternoon, a scant hour after Tony’s father succumbed to a second and fatal stroke. The servants looked to Sera for their orders now, not just because Lady Amanda was prostrate, but because Sera was now the mistress of the house.

Tony was rather lost those first few weeks, and went rambling with his dog and gun, or rode out alone for hours at a time. Sera let him go, and tried not to worry about his absences. He knew the country, and she felt he needed his solitude. It gave her time to establish a regimen in the disordered household.

The unfortunate aspect of the situation was that Sera could hardly expect Tony to be very loving when all of them were in deep mourning, so her campaign to win him had to be put away. She had not the heart for it, anyway, and threw herself into cheering his mother.

Lady Amanda bounced back from her grief much quicker than Tony, filling the breakfast parlor with small talk that charmed Sera but only made Tony sulk. Any time he did spend in the house, he closeted himself in his father’s study with piles of ledgers and accounts. “Father has not been dead a fortnight, and all she talks is trivialities,” Tony complained when Sera came to see if he wanted tea.

“I think it is good for her. She doesn’t mean to annoy you, Tony.”

“How do you find the patience to deal with her?”

“It’s a novel experience for me, having a mother.”

“That can’t have been easy for you, growing up without one.”

“I think it made me more independent.”

“She won’t live with us always, you know.”

“But why not?” Sera was surprised into asking.

“Because I can’t stand her most of the time.” Tony said this so desperately that Sera had to laugh. “Tell me I am an unnatural son,” he challenged, as he stood up.

Sera came and gently hugged him instead. “You are an unnaturally honest son, at any rate.”

“And you are wonderful.” He kissed her hair and stood contentedly holding her for a few minutes, until he heard footsteps coming across the hall, then amused her by releasing her as though they were lovers, and not married at all.

“Sera, there you are. What do you think of this fabric for my bedroom? Tony, I’m surprised you are still in the house. You are usually out riding, even in the foulest weather. I can’t understand why you can’t be still for a moment. You were not always like this.” Tony rolled his eyes at this monologue, and Sera received the fabric swatch with a laugh.

“Too somber for your bedroom, I think. I will order some samples from London.” Tony gave an impatient snort and went back to his ledgers.

* * *

Thrown as Sera was into Lady Amanda’s company more than her husband’s, there was a bond forged between them, an unspoken conspiracy to cheer Tony up and to keep any household annoyances from him. Sera was some use in this, since her liberal allowance provided for any little necessities in the way of servants’ clothing or extra candles. But when the kitchen maid came weeping to her with the confession that she was with child, Sera was nonplussed. She had never dealt with a situation like this before. Except for her personal maid, Marie, her father’s servants were mostly older, and did not get into such scrapes. Instinctively she took the girl to Lady Amanda.

“What are we going to do?” Sera asked her mother-in-law.

“She must be married, and soon,” decided Lady Amanda.

“But he refuses the child!” wailed the maid.

“Then we will have him arrested,” Lady Amanda said confidently.

“Can we do that?” Sera asked.

“It is what Edwin would have done if he could not force the man into marrying her. Joshua is our undergroom, after all. We have some responsibility that young girls are not accosted in our household.”