The Earl of Essex, Robert Cromwell, watched his son play with sticks in the well-trimmed and extravagant garden from his office. He stood with his hands behind his back in his black set. His eyes were swollen, his skin was grey and the servants had whispered that he had lost a few kilos in the last few months. His blonde hair was well-groomed and even though his blue eyes were swollen, they were still determined. Robert Cromwell was known as a tough but fair man. He was skilled and had doubled his fortune since taking over the earlship from the former Earl 20 years ago when he was just 19 years old himself. The Earl felt the familiar sting of grief as he looked at his son. He was 10 years old. And now motherless. He had been lucky when he met his his late wife. It was love. Alice was the love of his life. They had had 15 good years together. Full of love. It had turned out that it was difficult for them to have children, but after five years of marriage, they finally had a son. Alfred. Alfred played war with the sticks and the red hair shone in the sun. He was a copy of Alice. He had inherited both her red hair and brown eyes, but his features had begun to look like Robert more and more. Robert squinted at his desk on the large pile of paper. He sighed and turned again to the window facing the garden. Out of one service entrance facing the garden, a young maid suddenly appeared. She walked with a pram in front of her. Robert immediately looked away. The stroller was a painful reminder of Alice. Of why he had lost her. Robert folded his hands and squeezed until they turned white. It was months ago that Alice died. But he could not.
The maid went to Alfred with the pram. Alfred stopped, smiled, and walked over to the pram, where he looked down. Alfred smiled and touched the baby's cheek in the pram. Robert knew he should be proud. Glad. But the only thing he could think of was that the child was alive, but not Alice. Robert had been happy when Alice told she was with child again. They had not thought it possible to have more children together and they had accepted that Alfred was their only one. Robert had not felt it as a grief. He had a healthy son who could inherit and pass on his lineage. But for Alice, it had been difficult. She was an only child herself and had grown up with a dominant and vicious father. Alice had told during one of their countless nights together how lonely she had felt before meeting Robert. She would then like to give Alfred a brother or sister.
It was one of her biggest dreams and Robert had never seen her happier. But the pregnancy had been tough and the doctor warned them that Alice might not survive. But she had stood firm. Robert had hidden his fear of protecting Alice. He loved her more than anything else. But the fear had been that throughout the pregnancy. They could not save her. The baby was born, but Alice had continued to bleed and bleed. They could not stop it. Robert had threatened, prayed and cried in hopes of a miracle. Alice had not seemed scared. She had taken his hand and held it weakly. She had kissed him and looked at him with her warm brown eyes.
"Do not hate her. Please love her. Try."
When her life was about to ebb out she had with the weak voice told him that she loved him with everything she had. And she was looking forward to them meeting again on the other side.
Robert could feel a tear roll down his cheek. He can still remember how he had held her lifeless body in his arms for several hours. He had never felt so lost. Angry. The maid took the little baby out of the pram so Alfred could better touch her. He gave the chubby baby a kiss and the baby reached out his hands towards him. Robert felt nothing. He had tried. He has been standing in the nursery looking at the sleeping baby in hopes of feeling something. Just something. But the only thing he saw when he looked at her was Alice. If it had not been for her, his Alice would still be here.
Robert turned to his desk again and sat down. It has been 8 months since Alice died and he still had not touched or held their baby. The nannies and maids were responsible for everything. He felt a sting of discouragement. He just could not bring himself to do it. How could he ever be able to love her when she was the reason the most important person in his life is now gone. He took a stack of papers from the pile and laid it in front of him.
The first two months he spent crying and drinking. His mother had moved in and had taken control of the land. Until one day he had heard Alfred ask one of the maids if his father also would die now. There he had decided to get up and try. For Alfred. Since then he had not looked back. The days were spent working and evenings with Alfred. He completely refused to have the baby in the same room as himself. The nights were spent sleepless, where he longed for Alice. He had moved out of their shared bedroom in hopes of gaining some peace. But every night he snuck there anyway. Lying in their common bed where she had taken her last breath. Sniffed at her clothes and enjoyed her scent, which still lay discreetly in the air. He wakes up from his thoughts by a knocking on the door.
"Come in"
His voice is deep and masculine, but also hoarse. He knows he looks like shit. A maid comes in with Alfred.
"Pappa!"
Alfred runs up to him and Robert enthusiastically takes him up on his lap. Robert holds him extra close to him and sniffs at his hair. He feels a joy and a bit of relief in his heart by having his son close to him.
The maid stands and looks nervously at Robert.
"What is it?"
She wipes her hands in her dress and looks down at the ground.
"The governess is here"
Robert nods and she leaves his office. Robert can feel the guilt eating him up from within, but he sees no other way out. He has pictured himself doing it for Alfred. And for her own sake. It is better that she grows up in a place where she can not feel how unwanted and unloved she is. She is not going to be missing anything and she will always be recognized as his daughter. But Robert knows it's a lie. A lie he tells himself to be able to live with it. The truth is, he can not stand being reminded that Alice died bringing her into the world. He can not bear to look at her. Hear her cry. See the nannies. Everything is is a constant reminder of what he had and has lost. He takes Alfred closer to him and closes his eyes briefly. In his head, he apologizes to Alice. Sorry for not being able to fulfill her last wish. Sorry for not being stronger.
