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He lifted one shoulder. “Not really. I miss it. It’s a more humane place to live than London, but it was too far from my parents when they were living. Too far from my brothers.”
“They’re also piano tuners? For Broadwood?”
“They are. Martin and Walter both tune in the factory. I worked there for a short time, but the noise was intolerable.” He glanced at her, as if checking her reaction.
“Did the noise bring on your megrims?”
He nodded. “So I revived Vogel Piano.”
Recalling his precise ways and procedures for tuning and repair, she understood why having his own firm suited him. He seemed to be the sort who valued choosing his own clients and managing his own schedule. A shiver of excitement ran through her at the thought of how orderly his establishment would be. “I should like to see your workshop.”
“I should like to invite you there sometime.”
His words resonated with truth but also with such wistfulness that she slowed her pace. His expression made her stop entirely. “What is it?”
“I must tell you something.”
He stood tensely, as if bracing himself, and his eyes held sorrow.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I must never marry, Molly. Until you, that didn’t disturb me overly much, but now...I feel regret about this. As I regret any harm I’ve caused you. I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to Lady Clara’s plan. Well, no, I suppose that’s not true. Iwishedto spend time with you. I wish it still.”
He didn’t appear to feign his chagrin, and his words sounded honest. She could only stare, unable to hide her hurt and confusion. “Then why…?”
“You witnessed my megrim last week, Molly. It’s worse than what you could see from the outside. If you knew what’s in my mind during those times, you’d understand.”
“The pain is said to be terrible, I understand, but—”
“I’m not speaking of my suffering. Visions appear before my eyes. Some would say that I’m possessed.Idon’t believe that—not as a man who favors science. But it’s clear that there’s a madness of a sort that takes root. At times, I even smell odors that are not there. They’re all hallucinations.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Frederick pressed his hands together. “Very well. Permit me to explain another way. One of my clients is a household I’ve become very fond of. The lady of the house, Mrs. Darwin, is an estimable musician—not quite a Clara Robertson, but very fine indeed. Her husband is a botanist and naturalist. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? No? Well, we have many interesting discussions, he and I, and we’ve touched on the question of heredity many times.”
Pressing her hands to her cheeks, Molly was more confused than ever.
“The question is rather personal for Mr. Darwin, you see, as he suffers various ailments he believes he inherited from his forefathers. He’s a family man, and his beloved daughter died this year. He fears it’s a question of heredity.”
“You’re afraid of that your children would have megrims?”
He nodded curtly. “Imagine the seeds of that waterlily, transported across the seas. Then the attentive care given here at Kew to cultivate this species and others. Part of that process is undoubtedly weeding—removing the shoots that grow that no one wants. Everyone reviles. I’m a weed, and I ought not propagate.”
“Oh, Frederick!” She took his hand, squeezing three times. He gave a small smile in recognition of her effort and repeated the gesture, but his eyes remained sad. Before she could reassure him further, he continued.
“Her name was Annie Darwin. A darling girl. An aptitude for piano she had, like her mother. I could never live with myself if a child inherited madness from me. And what sort of father would I be, having to spirit away to a dark room whenever a spell comes on? No, Molly, there’s no family life for me aside from visiting my brothers’ households.”
She was trapped between heartbreak for Frederick…and near elation. “Frederick, I have something to tell you, too! I cannot bear to bring children into this world, albeit for different reasons. That is whyIhave not wedded. My sister Meg—I told you a little about her, remember? She had megrims. She bled to death after her second babe.”
As she continued the list of those she’d lost to motherhood, growing horror spread across his face, but so too, did new understanding—and hope. After he squeezed her hand again and expressed his condolences, he looked off into the distance, staring at the tree line.
“Frederick, we share an important conviction. Because of that conviction, I thought my only companions in life would be the others in the household where I’m in service. But what if…”
He raised an eyebrow, nodding. “If we could…?”
She nodded in return.
Both of his eyebrows raised before dropping. He cleared his throat. “Your companionship—the idea of you being my wife—it’s a dream, Molly. But I fear a complication. I worry that if regularly paired with your presence, my commitment to chasteness and purity could wane. That our important conviction, while one I do hold dearly, might not remain in the forefront of my mind when…”
