“Oliver?”
She blushed.
I smiled. “Love is never wrong. It can often be stupid, ill conceived and sometimes even dangerous. We can seldom choose whom we love, but often choose whom not to love. One must always take a step back and look at the person or situation with another’s eyes, and if it won’t work, you must be honest with yourself and the other person, and tell them at the start. You see; our society sets lots of silly rules in place, that if you follow them, you can have a relatively easy life, but if you deliberately flaunt them, then you are asking for problems.
“People are very silly at times, as they club together in groups. They do this for the old adage of survival. If you group with similar people, then you feel safe, but you would never group with people who were so different, that it would make you feel uncomfortable. Take your Oliver, now, I am fond of Oliver, as he is a nice boy. He is bright and loyal, he is hardworking and trustworthy, so all these are good things. However, he is from a poor background, so in our society, this would be a disadvantage, as he would never be able to keep you in a style that you would like or feel is right. It might be fun for a while, as your physical relationship might be exciting. Nevertheless, his expectations and yours are very different. His idea of a woman’s role may be very different to yours. You would fly in the face of social opposition, from both your family and from his as well as from everyone that knows you both.
“So, there is a difference between being friendly with someone and being friends, just as there is a difference between loving someone, and being in love with someone. If we were to go to a new world, where differences could be swept away, you might love whomever you wish, and even settle down with them. You still face the same problems that two people have when they marry, but this is regardless of the pressures that society places upon you.
“You must ask yourself two questions whenever you meet a boy that you like: Will I love him when he is old and grey, and if we have no money? And, will he love me when I am ugly and have screaming children around me?”
Katie stared at me, looking a little sad.
“What does real love feel like?” she asked.
“Real love is so many things, but mainly it’s a living, breathing, growing thing, that gets deeper and better with each passing day. There is lust, which you will feel in a few years, when your body wants the physical love that only another can give. When you dream of his touch, and you would be willing to surrender to his will for the pleasure he would give you. The rewards of lust are unwanted or unplanned children, pain, and unhappiness.
“Then there is the love that ties two people together, regardless of the world. You are lovers, where the physical love is strong and just as enticing as lust. But it is tempered with the acts of selflessness whereby you give of yourself, and the receiving is so much better because of it. You are friends, where you and he can speak of many things and join each other in the things you share, and enjoy learning about the things that the other enjoys.
“You are soul mates, where you exist together, not having to speak, but content just being together, knowing that your love will endure forever. The children of such love are blessed with and by the love that bore them.”
Katie looked at me.
“That’s you and Daddy,” she said.
I smiled.
“Yes, that’s certainly your Daddy and I.”
“I think perhaps I just like Oliver a lot. For sometimes he annoys me terribly.”
“Katie, I will never tell you whom to love and whom to like. You can only do what your heart tells you, but you must listen to your head too.”
She smiled, hugging her knees.
“I don’t expect Daddy would be impressed if I married Oliver.”
“That’s an understatement, my love. Besides, there’s nothing stopping you being friendly with him, but, you little strumpet, you mustn’t lead him down a road where it will all end in tears,” I said.
“It’s just that I never get to meet too many other children my age.”
“I know dear, and that is why I am hoping to get you into a school.”
“Really? That would be fun, I think.”
“But your Daddy wants us to go to America soon, so it may be all different there.”
“I know. I don’t know if I want to go.”
“It will be very different, as we will have a big house, with lots of land and horses.”
“Will Oliver be able to come with us?”
“We shall have to see. That is up to your father.”
“I’m glad you are my Mama, you are so wise and you know so much.”
“My darling, life is all about learning, and there are those who learn and remember, and go from strength and strength. Yet there are those who forget and make the same mistakes, again and again. In love, you need to be careful, because the heart can often fool the brain.”
“How is it you are so young and pretty, and yet you seem so much older?”
I smiled, as this child was remarkably astute.
“I had a hard life, so one is forced to become wise through hardship.”
“Daddy is like a different person now. You have made him so happy, and so am I.”
“Good, I’m so pleased. For I love you all so much.”
“Grand-mama asked me whether you were a good mother, and I told her you were almost as good as my real Mama,” she said. “But actually, I think maybe you’re probably much better. But they didn’t want to hear that.”
That brought a tear to my eye. I held my arms out for her and we had a cuddle.
The days turned into weeks. Gradually, the weather became warmer, and I became more pregnant. I was not sick this time and was better prepared for the experience.
I enjoyed being pregnant, as little unborn Emily was far more accommodating compared to her elder brother. My husband was more loving and we enjoyed the time we spent together without the threat of war hanging over our heads. There was much preparation to undertake in respect of our intended emigration to America, so Roger was busy arranging the purchase and shipment of all kinds of things.
He was reluctant to sell the Manor, as he liked the idea of having something to which to fall back should disaster strike our venture. As he was busy with the setting up of our home and business, I involved myself in the organisation of the household.
Mr and Mrs Groves, now in their late sixties, had a large family in the area, and so were reluctant to leave. They had twenty-five grand children at the last count, so they were looking forward to a well-earned retirement, which I feared would be more work than working. Abigail, however, had no one, and over the years had become my devoted maid and confidant. She had once loved a young man who had served in Roger’s regiment as a trooper, but he had died in Spain. She had no family to speak of, so was keen to come with us.
Symes, Roger’s valet, and his wife Jenny, were persuaded to join us, to take on the role that Groves and his wife were relinquishing. George the groom, who had a string of girls dotted about Oxfordshire and Berkshire, wished to start his own stables, having enough saved to do so. Oliver, who still had a tendency to dribble whenever Katie was within one hundred feet of him, would have followed her, or me, to the ends of the earth. He did not hesitate, when asked if he was willing to come, he simply grinned and nodded.
Roger wished to take his prized horses, while a squadron of dragoons would have been inadequate to prise Katie from Snowflake, so it seemed that a very large boat would be required for the Lambert contingent. I persuaded Roger to whittle the horses down to just three.
“They do have horses in America,” I pointed out.
Grudgingly, he agreed, so with Snowflake, we were taking four horses only.
One of the tasks that Roger had completed was the dropping of the ‘de’ from his name. Thus, he was now officially Sir Roger Lambert, and I was Lady Jane Lambert.