Intention

Chapter 6: Autumn

Mrs. Martin, or Bernadette, was snoring in his bed which he found amusing, at the same time he was jealous of her that she could sleep, and he could not.

She had arrived at his Manor last night, right after her husband had shifted to a "business trip" to Birmingham. In reality, Fife knew that Mr. Martin, aka Henry had hefty gambling debts and this "business trip" had more to do with selling property there, an estate he had learned, which had been in Martin's family for hundreds of years. Robert was not aware that apparently Henry's debt was so high that no other option was possible, but he suspected that the man had gotten involved with unsavoury types who might be done with his excuses and displeasure of refusing to pay.

Robert knew exactly which people were involved, they had approached him too, but he had rebuffed them with a swift, condescending reply and asked how they dared even approach him.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a game or two in the clubs, but it was nothing to him on betting on horses or boxing matches for example. There were rumours that something had happened to Featherington and that his death was not an "accident" but really hard evidence no one had and for the rest there was no real talk about it. Inappropriate conversation, of course, while enjoying a cognac or a whiskey of course, also Featherington had not been among them for 1.5 years.

If there is one universal truth was on this earth it was that life went on no matter how cliche it sounded. Featherington had long been forgotten about.

Henry had been foolish but most of all gullible and yet somewhere he had a sliver of pity for the man, no doubt it was not easy to have to part with his possessions. He suspected his wife knew nothing about it and Robert was not the person to tell her.

Said wife suddenly turned around which startled Robert and caused him to turn back but then went back to sleep.

He watched her as she slept, her blond curls a mess, due to him he supposed, the recollection of it making him grin. He inspected her face further and concluded that she was not particularly pretty, rather plain looking really, but what she had in her upper regions more than made up for it.

Robert enjoyed going to bed with her and lavish on her copious breasts but otherwise had no feelings for her at all as she simply did not interest him. Bernadette was one of many disgruntled wives who fell easily into his arms. He suspected that Bernadette was all the more disgruntled since she had confided in him that he did not sleep with her. She had told him that he spent many nights away from home and when he returned he "smelled" differently, reeked of cologne, not eau de parfum but cologne.

Bernadette had seemingly not yet made the link, but Robert had. But then again it wasn't up to Robert to tell her. They had met at yet another insipid ball a year ago. Their eyes met and when he saw her smile shyly at him, the smile half hidden behind her fan, he knew he had found his new target and she had easily fallen for his charms.

It had been almost too easy in that regard. However, he couldn't wait to get rid of her tomorrow morning, discreetly of course. He knew she had made up an excuse to go her sister for an overnight stay, so she wasn't going to be around for long anyway.

Robert pulled the blankets a little closer to him; et was a lot colder now, he realized. The blistering heat had given way to a beginning of rainy days, the omen of autumn. He stared up at the ceiling, just for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes, hoping to regain some sleep.

When he awoke he was pleased to see Bernadette to be gone already. One glance at the clock told him it was already ten o'clock; it was but well that he had no appointments today. He had been at the factory yesterday and after a brief conversation with the manager he saw his presence was not long needed.