Page 52 of A Foolish Endeavor

“Let them take it, then,” Gilbert said fiercely. “The closer I came to graduating, the more I realized I had no desire to become a rector. Making sermons, visiting the sick, baptizing babies—it all seemed so… dull and unsatisfactory. I truly believe I would be wretched at it, Father, and quite miserable if I attempted it.”

Evan slammed his hands on the desk, abruptly stood, and paced the room a moment. He turned to his son, his face harsh. “Then what do you expect to do? You cannot be idle all your life.”

“I might help here. One day, when it all falls to Miles, I could be of use to him.”

“Miles is learning how to manage the estate from me and, I pray, he will have many more years to become familiar with it before having to take over completely.”

“Of course, Father,” Gilbert stammered, “I did not mean to imply—”

“It is not for a second son to help the eldest,” Evan continued, “but for him to go into the military or the church and make his own way in life. You know all this. It has been the stated expectation since you were a child.”

“I know. But it is so unfair, Father—I would be every bit as good at managing Clayton House as Miles. It is only because of my unlucky fate as a second son that I, not Miles, face a life of dreary work and living in a pokey old parsonage somewhere instead of a grand house such as I grew up in.”

Evan turned a hard face to Gilbert. “It is your fate, however, and we have all tried to prepare you for it. Now, I find you have completely abrogated your responsibilities and have no plan whatsoever for your future.”

“I might study law?” Gilbert asked hopefully. “I believe it would interest me more than sermon making.”

“Do you expect me to finance this new plan? I might be willing, if I thought you were sincere in your approach. However, at this point, I fear you may spend another few years at school only to abandon the idea of law and return home having once again wasted your time and my money.” He returned to his desk and sat, heavily. “Leave me now. I must consider this unfortunate news you have shared with me.”

“Yes, Father,” Gilbert replied, miserably. He rose to leave, but his father called him back.

“Go to your sister, Charlotte, at once, and inform her of this development. She and Frederick have a right to know they cannot depend upon you, and I shall not be the one to inform them.”

Gilbert halted, head lowered. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, and left the room.

“So, you do not have your degree?” Charlotte asked after hearing Gilbert’s long confession. The two sat side by side on the sofa as he poured his heart out to her.

“I do not.”

“And you have no wish to take the curate position Frederick has held open for you all this time. Or, indeed, to one day become a rector.”

“I would not make a good rector, Charlotte, of that I am certain.”

“Well. This is a remarkable turn of events, Gilbert. You must be aware of how great a disappointment this is, not just to Frederick and me, but to the entire family.”

Gilbert lowered his head to his knees, choking out, “I am, Charlotte. I have been most selfish and deceitful. I do not deserve anyone’s forgiveness.” He broke down and wept a short time, before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to embrace his sister, saying over and over, “I am sorry.”

It was some time before Gilbert composed himself and sat, staring at his shoes, unable to speak. Charlotte went to ring for tea and then returned to sit beside him, taking his hand in hers.

“I can see how miserable this has made you, Gilbert, to keep all this from your loved ones.”

“You are too generous, Lottie,” he said, using her childhood nickname. “I believe most will rightfully see me as a vile creature who lied to you all and went off to London to enjoy myself, while you all believed the best of me. I do not deserve your forgiveness or understanding. I have rarely seen our father so angry, even as I know he has every right to be.”

“I know it can be hard to face our father at times. He loves us all, but his standards are high. Be assured, he will forgive you in time, once you tell him what it is you wish to do in life.” She paused while the maid brought in the tea and served. After a few sips, she broached the topic gently. “Have you any idea of what you would like to do, since sermon-making seems so unpalatable to you?”

Gilbert shook his head. “No. Well, in truth, I devised a plan when I arrived in town. I met a young lady who was not only beautiful, sweet, and amiable, but was also an heiress with a dowry worth many thousand pounds. Had she reciprocated my feelings, we might have married and we could have bought a small estate and I should have been able to live a true gentleman’s life.”

“She did not reciprocate, however?”

“I thought she did, Lottie. I truly believed her heart leaned towards me, for she gave me every indication of it. She allowed me to call upon her, and we took a ride together in the park. It was all a sham, however. She was only using me to make another gentleman jealous in order to gain a proposal out of him—he will be a duke one day. When I confronted her about it, she told me most cruelly that she would not have wasted her fifteen thousand on a second son.”

“That was unkind of her, indeed, and I am sorry you were hurt in this manner. But, Gilbert, you must not go into a romance with only money in mind—I am certain I need not tell you this. You should find a kindred soul. Someone with whom you have much in common and with whom you feel at ease at all times. Frederick and I fell in love over our love of reading, art, and drawing, but our conversations were always so natural and pleasant. Once I considered my true feelings, I knew he was the one for me, and I am so grateful that he felt the same.”

Gilbert gestured to the framed portraits of Charlotte and Frederick that hung on the wall, which they had drawn of each other. “We are all so happy you found love, dear sister.”

“Money was the least concern in surrendering my heart. Dorothea wished for me to marry someone who could make me a mistress of a grand estate, and, had I fallen in love with a man of those means, that would have been fine. Instead, I now live a more modest life, to be sure, but with someone who is not only a true love, but also my dear friend. I should advise you to seek that in a partner, Gilbert—choose someone to be your spouse whom you can respect and care for as a friend. Then, you shall always be in happy company.”

Gilbert nodded soberly, as he idly ran a finger over the rim of his teacup. “That is sound advice, Charlotte, I thank you. It still does not help me discern what my future path might be. And until I can do that, no woman would have me, at any rate.” He raised sad eyes to her. “Will you tell Frederick the terrible truth, or would you prefer that I return and do it myself?”