If he diddecide to remain in England, he had every right. She knew Crispinwas overwhelmed. It must be a shock to learn that his grandfatherwas a heartless tyrant, to learn that his young mother had diedgiving birth to him and that his grandfather had turned his back onhim, telling everyone he had died with his mother.
Surely, arelationship with someone like her, with all her issues, was thelast thing Crispin needed at this time. She didn’t want him puttingher needs in front of his. It wouldn’t be fair. Could Piers beright? Should she leave and give Crispin the freedom to come to hisown decisions? The thought of it broke her heart but she loved himenough to leave if it meant it would help. Staring at the cheque inher hands, she thought of her parents. She could pay them back themoney they had wasted on her tuition. She could try universityagain, and pay for it herself this time. Did she really have aprice like Piers had said?
***
Feeling quiteself-righteous, Piers Harlow pulled his car into his parking spotand made his way toward the house. He braced himself inanticipation of having to tell Crispin of what had transpired withGwen. But convinced of having done the right thing, he trulybelieved his nephew would eventually be thankful for hisintervention.
Just as he hadsuspected, Gwen had accepted his bribe without much of a fight. Theslight indignation she had shown was to be expected. But whateverinkling of guilt he might have felt moments before handing her thecheque, soon vanished the moment she got out of his car.
At twenty-twoyears of age, Crispin had no business tying himself down to any onewoman. He needed to spend time at Harlow Manor with his unclePiers. He had vowed on his sister’s grave to find her son and bringhim home. He would do whatever necessary to keep him here, awayfrom the unfortunate life and whatever dreary connections he hadmade thus far. Crispin had suffered enough and he would soonrealize his place was here with his loving uncle. With his nephewaround, he might even consider staying instead of returning to hisvilla in Spain. The place might not seem so intolerably lonely.
“How did it go?” he asked when Jones greeted him.
“He took it all quite well,” Jones responded.
“Good. Where is the young man now?”
“After spending quite a long while in his mother’s room,Crispin made his way out to visit her gravesite. He’s probablystill there now, perhaps on his way back. Is Gwen waiting outside?Maybe if she isn’t too tired, I should take her to his side. He’sprobably looking forward to seeing her.”
“Oh, never mind Gwen. I dropped her off at the B&B.” Pierssaid, handing Jones his keys and jacket. “I’ll go. There’s a lot mynephew and I still need to discuss.”
“Sir?” Jones said with a frown.
“You heard me!” Piers tossed over his shoulder.
“Oh dear,” Jones said to himself. “Here we goagain.”
Chapter 36
At his mother’sgravesite, Crispin sat slumped under the shade of an old oak tree,staring glassy-eyed at the humble headstone bearing her name. Justmoments ago, it had hit him like a tidal wave, the grief, and ithad knocked him off his feet. He had crumpled to the ground withthe tree trunk at his back, his head in his hands. He hadn’t criedsince he was a child, yet he couldn’t keep the tears from streamingdown his cheeks.
Thoughts ofhis lonely young mother broke his heart and he silently begged herforgiveness for the years he spent blaming her for his unfortunatechildhood. Despite their very different circumstances, he realized,they weren’t so different. Even though she’d had a father and ahome such as this, she had grown up with little or no love andaffection just like him. So much so, the lack of it had left her asvulnerable as he often felt. Crispin realized then, that rich orpoor, surrounded by family or not, loneliness could be a terriblesoul destroyer when neglect prevailed.
Not far fromhis mother’s headstone, he noticed a few more. One with hisgrandfather’s name. Another, he assumed belonged to hisgrandmother, Anne Harlow. Beyond those, were a few more bearing thesurname Harlow. It was the strangest feeling to be in the presenceof so many deceased ancestors after having believed he’d hadnone.
Focusing againon Cassandra Harlow’s gravestone, he noticed that besides her dateof birth and death, there was no mention of a child. This gave himcause to ponder. Surely, if the old man had led everyone to believeboth mother and baby had died during childbirth, wouldn’t he haveburied the baby together with his mother, or at least made it lookthat way?
Just as hethought of this, approaching footsteps caught his attention and hestood up quick and pulled himself together. He had gottendistracted and time had gotten away from him. Hours had passedsince he had been with Gwen and he missed her terribly. He couldn’twait to see her. Knowing he now had her in his life, gave himstrength throughout this ordeal. However grateful he was to finallyknow of his origins, his only hopes now were for a very differenttype of future.
Making sure toclear all evidence of tears, Crispin turned and frowned when heonly saw Piers. Perhaps Gwen was tired and waited for him at thehouse, he thought to himself. Maybe she was having another cup oftea.
“I see you found the family cemetery,” Piers said, coming tohis side. “Dreary place, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yes, I suppose. Question, though, why is there no mentionof a child on my mother’s headstone?” Crispin inquired.
Piershesitated with his answer. With a great sigh, he eventually spoke,“I asked him the same thing when I was old enough to know better.My father said it was for the sake of the family name. See, noneother than Jones and his wife Iris were made aware of Cassandra’spregnancy. Prior to her death, he informed everyone else that hehad sent her to off to Canada to attend a private boarding school.So when she died, to save face and hide the shame, he kept the truecause of her death a secret. He simply made something up about herdying in a
