“Only because the old maniac went to bed. Really, Rupert, we must do something!”
“Absolutely!” Rupert winced at his own loudness. More quietly, he went on, “His delusion has inconveniences we’ve only begun to realize.”
“It does seem to be a bit more than we can just quietly live with,” Robin admitted.
” ‘Ignore’ is the term you need, I believe, brother. And we certainly cannot continue to ignore it!”
Robin stiffened. “I didn’t think I had, Rupert!”
“No, certainly you didn’t,” Elaine said quickly. “The two of you were wonderful, Robin. You prevented a major disaster from becoming a total debacle.”
“What’s the difference?” Rupert moaned.
“That at least we will continue to be invited,” Elaine answered, “though I doubt anyone will accept our hospitality again!”
“Perhaps we could persuade Pater to stay in his rooms?” Robin ventured.
“Perhaps you could,” Elaine retorted. “Really, you have an amazing talent for calming the old man, Robin—both of you. It really surpasses understanding.”
” ‘Understanding’ is the vital term,” Rose answered, with a glance at Robin.
Rupert peered up around his ice-pack. “You really do understand him, don’t you? How he feels, I mean.”
“You don’t need to hammer the point home, brother,” Robin sighed. “I plead guilty.”
“We do, I’m afraid,” Rose agreed. “He gave up everything to stay with his wife, and fulfill his responsibilities to his family—but with her gone, he must feel so alone…”
“And so absurd,” Robin agreed, “so much without purpose, as though all his life, all his sacrifice, was for nothing. He wanted to leave, you know—he wanted adventure, excitement. He treasured his few trips to Terra, how he delighted in seeing Paris, Lisbon, London, Vienna, New York, at last…”
“Quite like a child,” Rupert muttered. “He all but clapped his hands and danced.”
“He wanted to live there,” Robin explained, “but now the chance is gone.”
“He wanted to go away,” Rose added.
Elaine frowned, not understanding.
“So he has,” Rose finished.
“Not really,” Elaine answered, “and I wish he had. And taken that hideous old robot with him.”
“But Fess is wonderfully loyal,” Robin protested, “and still most remarkably deft! I certainly couldn’t have calmed Pater without his help!”
“Oh, I’ll admit it functions well enough,” Elaine said quickly, “and it surely proved its worth last night, managing to get that sword away from the old Count.”
“He is still in excellent operating condition,” Rose pointed out.
“Rory? You can’t mean it!”
“No—Fess!”
“Oh.” Elaine leaned back and closed her eyes. “Yes, I suppose so—but chacun a son gout, my dear. For myself, I find that the only antiques acceptable in a household are furniture.”
“Antique!” Robin cried. “He’s a virtual heirloom!”
“Then you’re quite welcome to inherit him,” Rupert said drily, reaching for an analgesic, then paused in the act. “You know, perhaps that’s it.”
Robin frowned. “What?”
“The solution to the problem! Listen, you two seem to be able to tolerate the old man…”
“Tolerate!” Robin spluttered.
“I should certainly think so!” Rose said.
“Chacun a son gout,” Elaine muttered again.
Rupert went on. “And you seem to think old Fess is some sort of marvel. And, well, you know there’s the Grange…”
Robin frowned. “You mean that house Great-Grandmother had built, because she couldn’t abide living with Grandmother?”
“Yes, that’s the one! Look, I know it hasn’t been used for nearly a century—but it has room enough for a family, and a good contingent of robots, though they’re none of them new…”
“Yes, yes, I know the house.” Robin frowned. “We went there to explore often enough when we were boys. What of it, Rupert?”
“Well, I could have it tidied and updated a bit, don’t you know, and you could toddle off over there and live on your own—just the two of you, your boys, Pater, and Fess!”
Rose darted a look of astonishment at her husband. Robin’s eyes widened in hope.
“What a splendid idea!” Elaine cried.
“I’ll deed it over to you, make it your own property, as soon as I inherit,” Rupert assured them, “if you’ll just take Pater with it, and take care of him there.”
“We would be delighted,” Rose declared, before her husband could be self-effacing. “But don’t bother updating it—just have the robots dusted, and make sure it’s in good repair.”
“You are fond of antiques, aren’t you?” Elaine muttered.
But Robin thrust out his chin. “But see here, it won’t do, you know! It won’t do at all!”
“Robin!” both women cried.
“Why not?” Rupert said querulously.
“Well, he’s the Count! Don’t you see? And the Count has to live in the castle!”
Rupert scowled, thinking.
“Oh, what a bothersome point!” Elaine cried.
“Still, he’s right, you know,” Rupert said heavily. “Not for us to say where Pater will go or not go, is it? He is the Count!”
“But he doesn’t have to remain Count, does he?” Rose asked, a gleam in her eye.
Rupert frowned, lifting an eyebrow. “As long as he lives, he does.”
“No, she’s right!” Robin caught her enthusiasm. “If Pater chose to abdicate in your favor, he certainly could, couldn’t he?”
“Why—yes, I suppose so,” Rupert said. “But why would he?”
“Because he already wants to,” Rose explained. “Don’t you see it? Turning the factory over to you, closeting himself with his voice-writer—oh, all the signs point to it! He wants to retire! All he needs is an excuse to allow himself to do it!”
“Perhaps,” Rupert said slowly, “but can he find one?”
“Oh, I think he may,” Rose said, with a smile.
“But I don’t want to learn arithmetic,” Richard grumped. They were trooping through the long gallery on the way back from riding lessons.
“You will need to know it when you are grown, Richard,” the nanny-bot answered.
“What for?”
The nanny-bot registered the presence of Rory, studying his ancestors at the far end of the gallery. The recognition initiated the robot’s new sub-routine. “Because, Richard, when you grow up, you will work in d’Armand Automatons, designing robots.”
“Platinum! That’ll be fun! But what do I need to know math for?”
“You cannot design robots without knowing mathematics.”
Rory looked down from his studying.
“Will I get to design robots, too, Nanny?”
“Yes, Rodney. All d’Armands grow up to—”
“No, Rodney.” Rory came toward them with long strides. “You do not have to work in d’Armand Automatons if you do not want to!”
The six-year-old looked up, startled. “I don’t, Grandpa?”
“No! You can travel! You can forge out into the Galaxy for a life of high adventure!”
“Can I go look for adventure too, Grandpa?”
The old man turned to Richard, and seemed to deflate a little. “Possibly, my boy—though your place is rightfully here.”
Richard stared in indignation. “Why can’t I go?”
“Because you are the eldest son, albeit the eldest of a second son, and as such, you will inherit… whatever Robin may leave.”