“Papa doesn’t have anything.”
“No, he has some patents in his own right,” Rory sighed, “and is likely to have many more before he dies. You will inherit his responsibilities as well as his assets.”
“But I want to have adventures, too!”
“Me, too, Grandpa!”
“Well, then, set your minds to it, boys, and we’ll find a way, eh?” Rory grinned. “After all, it’s not as though you were the direct heirs! Perhaps you shall be able to go, Richard—and certainly you shall, Rodney!”
The little boy’s eyes clouded. “But I don’t want to leave Maxima, Grandpa!”
“Ah, but you will,” Rory said softly. “Be sure of that—you will!”
Suddenly, he seemed to remember himself, and stood up, stepping aside. “But enough chat with a foolish old man. If you go out among the stars, you will need mathematics to find your way from planet to planet—and if you stay, you’ll need mathematics to design robots.”
Doom hovered in Richard’s face. “You mean we’ll need math no matter what?”
“I fear so, lad. So go off with nanny-bot and buckle down to your lessons. Chin up, now!”
And, as he watched them go on down the gallery, he murmured, “No man should be bound against his will—even through riches!”
Fess had a new sub-routine of his own that was initiated by the conversation. “Still, boss master, some must accept such bonds, for the good of their fellows.”
“Oh, must they?” Rory muttered, with dark sarcasm.
“Still,” the robot went on, “there comes a time when they can lay aside such burdens—when someone else is willing to take them up.”
“Or, even, eager,” Rory muttered, thinking of Rupert.
“At such a time, effendi, a man could become free to do as he wishes again.”
“Ah, but if he’s too old, Fess—what then?”
“The older we grow, the more delights we may discover, boss sahib.”
“There’s some truth in that…”
“But only if we burst the bonds completely, O Wise and Honored Master, and leave them to those who wish them.”
Rory nodded, gaze still on the boys as they went out the far door of the gallery.
Rory began to seem a bit more restless, and was often seen muttering to himself, with Fess in polite attendance. Particularly, he seemed to grow impatient at dinner, and the more so as Elaine and Rupert exercised their prerogatives as heiress and heir, and dominated the conversation.
“I’m sure she’s a good woman,” he said testily, on his way to his room, “but she prattles on about so many inconsequentialities!”
“I am sure they are matters of consequence to her, sahib.”
“But must so many matters be of consequence? I swear the woman would worry about the time of day!”
“She has been mentioning that dinner is perhaps too late…”
“There! You see? No pleasing her, none! Ah, for some peace in my declining years, loyal squire!”
“You should, perhaps, seek the tranquility of a monastery, master boss.”
“Now, there’s a thought.” Rory frowned, mulling it over. “Of course, it’s a bit of a way to the nearest one…”
“Not in the realm of Dondedor, my lord. Have you not told me there is a chapter house hard by the castle?”
“There is, now that you mention it.” Rory gazed off into space.
Then, abruptly, he shook his head. “No, can’t be done. I have responsibilities here; I can’t go gallivanting off just yet.”
“That is, of course, for you to say, O wise and forbearing master.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Rory cocked his head to the side, thinking.
“Oh, what a deal of bother these formal clothes are!”
“Nevertheless, it is de rigueur for a meeting of the Council, milord master.” Fess fastened the archaic hooks and eyes up Rory’s backbone.
“Restricting, confining… and damned uncomfortable! I tell you what, Fess, can’t Rupert appear for me?”
“That would never do, my lord and master,” Fess said severely. “The Count himself must attend! If all the lords, or even a substantial portion of them, were to send surrogates, no issues could be decided!”
“True, true,” Rory sighed. “Nice to have you around to remind me of what I already know too well. And just when I thought I was managing to bring the onerous aspects of this office under control. Is there no way to shift this burden, Fess?”
“You might retire to that monastery, O master of wise restraint.”
Rory pursed his lips, then frowned. “A monastery’s a bit too restrictive, but a quiet retreat might be pleasant. A bit lonely, though.”
“Sir! You insult your family!”
Rory looked up, startled. “I do?”
“Certainly! At least some of them must be willing to follow you in your retirement, and would take such pleasure in your company as not to miss the glories of the castle!”
“Rose is a sweet girl, that’s true, and I sometimes think Robin chafes at the restrictions of protocol as much as I…”
“And is equally adept at hiding it,” Fess murmured.
“A point… Well! That cummerbund, now—for the last time, eh?” He glanced back at Fess with a twinkle in his eye.
“You’re doing what?”
“Do pull your eyeballs back into your head, Rupert, there’s a good chap.” Rory smiled, with a sly glance at Elaine’s look of awe. ” ‘Abdicating,’ I said. Renouncing the office of Count. There’s no law that says I can’t, is there?”
“No, but… but, Pater! It’s never been done!”
“Only because this is the first time. Come now, m’ boy, pull yourself together. I know the County’s a bit of a burden, but you’ll bear up, won’t you? Yes, and come to like it in time, I’m sure.” Rory sipped at his brandy to hide his smile.
So did Rose.
“Oh, Robin! Can it really be true?” Rose clutched her husband’s arm as they rode through the tunnel to the Dower House.
“It appears that it is, my dear.” Beside her, Robin looked equally dazed.
“Oh, come now, you two!” Count Rory scoffed. “Is this any way to greet the season? Or would you rather we’d put it off until after the holidays?”
“Oh no, Beau-Papa!” Rose caught his arm, too. “I couldn’t imagine a more wonderful present for Christmas!”
“Perhaps,” Count Rory mused. “Perhaps.”
Fess brought the little car to a halt by the huge airlock door, stepped down to the end of the tube, undogged the hatch, and pulled it open. He stepped through and pressed the button beside the inner hatch. The airlock checked for pressure match, found it, and lit the green patch. Fess opened the door to the Grange and stepped back. “Sahibs and mem-sahib, your mansion awaits.”
Rose stepped forward, dewy-eyed, and Robin stepped after her—but Rory caught him by the elbow and murmured in his ear, “There is a tradition, my boy.”
Robin stared at his wife, startled, then smiled, stepped forward, and swept her off her feet. “Robin!” she shrieked. “Whatever are you doing?”
“I,” Robin answered, “am carrying my bride over the threshold.”
“Oh, you silly! Oh, do be careful—it’s such a high threshold!”
“It is,” Robin agreed, hoisting a foot over the bottom of the hatch. “But don’t worry, dear—if I drop you, Fess will catch you.”
“Oh, you beast! Don’t you dare!”