Songs of Yesterday

by Monroe, Jennifer

  He almost chuckled. What good had that done him? Once he was old enough to choose his own life, he had moved as far away from his upbringing as he could.

  “I see my son has chosen to rise before sunset,” his father said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence today, even if it was not at our appointed time.”

  “My apologies, Father,” Holden said, closing the door behind him. “I was up late last night going over numbers in my head.”

  His father snorted at the outright lie as he rose from his chair to come around and lean against the front of the desk. “And what numbers would you be considering that would keep you awake so late?”

  Holden grasped the first thing that came to mind. How could he not have had an excuse in place before he arrived? It was not as if these conversations with his father were uncommon. “David inquired about the possibility of doing business with me.”

  His father’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? And what type of business would that be?”

  “Sheep. Many sheep.”

  His father smiled and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. It was clear by the look on his face that he believed not a word of Holden’s lie. “Sit.”

  Holden did as his father bade and looked at the man as he leaned against the desk.

  “I realize the sheep business is not one you…”

  His father raised a hand, and Holden bit back the remainder of his words. “Lord Banner no longer deals in sheep,” he said with a sigh. “Nor does his son. They lost a large amount of money in the wool trade years ago, and Banner has refused to engage in the business since. But you would know that if you simply paid attention to what is going on around you.”

  Damn, David thought. How could he have not known this? Aloud he said, “David tricked me, then. Thank you for your wisdom, Father. I shall be wary of him in the future.”

  Rather than placating his father as his words had done in the past, they infuriated the man to the point that he leaned over and grasped Holden by the lapels of his coat, pulling him from the chair. “You have made a fool of me long enough,” he hissed. “Now, you will listen to me and heed my words!”

  Holden stared wide-eyed at his father as he lowered himself back into the chair. The man had berated him often in the past, even threatened to disown him, but never had he used violence to make his point.

  In the past, they had been quite close. In fact, Holden had once thought him a friend as well as his father. However, when Holden’s mother died five years earlier, his father had become the sullen and angry man before him now.

  With a calming breath, Holden said, “I am listening.”

  “Good,” his father barked. “For far too long I have given you rein to make your own decisions. However, the late nights of gaming and drinking have become all too common.”

  Holden went to speak, to defend his actions, but his father gave him a harsh look that caused Holden to hold his tongue.

  “Men are welcome to partake in such things, but only when they have completed what is expected of them. Does your friend David not enjoy a game of chance and hunting?”

  “He does,” Holden replied. “I join him in such activities, as well.”

  His father snorted again. “I am well aware that you do. Unlike you, however, David works very hard to grow his father’s estate. He focuses a large portion of his time on his work, so he is able to enjoy the more recreational pursuits later. When he finds a worthy bride, he will provide her with the life every lady deserves, and she will stand at his side with pride because of it. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Holden considered what his father had said—thinking was difficult in his delicate condition—and smiled. “I do understand. When David marries, I am to speak positively about him in the presence of his wife so she knows he is a worthy husband.”

  “You imbecile!” his father shouted, and Holden shrank back into his chair. “No! I do not care about him or his wife; I care about you. The games of chance, the hunting excursions, the womanizing, all of it will stop from this moment on until you find a worthy bride!”

  This broke away any lingering fog in Holden’s brain. “A bride?” he asked in astonishment. “You want me to marry?”

  “Indeed. You will not remain unmarried for much longer. In nine days, we will host a party. However, you will not spend the night speaking with your friends as you are wont to do. Instead, I will be watching to see that you introduce yourself to every eligible woman who attends, and you will request permission to call on them. Every single one of them.”

  Holden slunk deeper into his seat. “Should I also ask the maids?” he murmured.

  “What was that?” his father asked with a glare.

  “Nothing, Father,” Holden replied.

  He was not yet ready for marriage. Or to be a suitor or to court for that matter. There were too many parties to attend, and the London season was not far off. “Perhaps I should…” Holden paused. No argument would get him out of this situation, not when his father was this set in his decision. What he had meant to say was that he should wait until the season began, where he could find the right woman at the many balls and parties given. Yet the words would do him no good, so he changed what he meant to say. “…find a worthy woman at the party,” he finished in a resigned tone he could not hide.

  “Indeed you will,” his father said. “I have already informed Lord Thrup. His daughter Caroline will be in attendance.”

  “Caroline Thrup?” Holden asked in horror. “The woman is a gossip like her mother. She is boring and apparently spends the majority of her days doing embroidery.”

  His father glared at him once again. “She is without a gentleman and you are without a lady. However, worry not, for if you ask to call on all the eligible ladies who attend, you will have options from which to choose, is that not so? You should be glad I am not arranging a marriage for you.”

  Holden stifled a sigh. “Yes, Father,” he muttered.

  He looked down at the floor as shame overwhelmed him. How often had he disappointed his father over the years? Even when he was not engaged in sordid activities, his father saw nothing but what Holden did wrong, which was why he chose to enjoy his life. “I am sorry to have let you down again.”

  “Then show me how to behave like the gentleman you are,” his father said. “And not the fool you have become.” He gave Holden a dismissive wave, and Holden dragged himself from the chair.

  Closing the door to the study behind him, he let out a sigh. He would do as his father bade, but the man had to have been exaggerating about asking every woman at the party. Therefore, he would ask a handful if he could send a card. Perhaps if he did call on several over the next few weeks, his father would be appeased and allow Holden to do what he loved—to enjoy himself in guilty pleasures as a man should.

  ***

  The following day, with a head much clearer, Holden completed an order for a new coat at the most prestigious tailor in Rumsbury. The shop was his favorite because every story he told, including the tale he was telling at the moment, was met with admiration and awe.

  “Of course, as always in such matters, I told the lady I could not marry her no matter how large her dowry was,” Holden said, to which the tailor, Mr. Matthews, nodded in appreciation. “A woman must be a companion to whom a man can confide.” He chuckled. “Not that any gentleman should seek advice from the weaker sex, of course, but rather as a person he can trust with whatever secrets he may hold.”

  “You are quite right as always, my lord,” Mr. Matthews said in his nasally tone. “As for your new coat, I can have it delivered by next Wednesday.”

  “So soon?” Holden asked in surprise.

  “But of course, my lord. For you, I will see it receives the utmost attention.” He placed the measuring tape back in its box. “Will there be anything else with which I can assist you?”

  “No, I believe that will be all. Thank you.”

  Holden left the
shop, light of step and ready to face the world. He glanced around the village square. In one week, he would be hosting a party, in which he would be forced to find a woman of whom his father would approve. One thing was certain; that woman had to be someone other than Miss Thrup. Spending even the shortest amount of time with her in the past had proven to be quite disagreeable. So much so that he could not imagine spending his remaining years with the woman. No, his father would not pressure him into marrying any woman, but especially not one the likes of Miss Thrup.

  The last thing Holden wanted to do was give up all the activities he enjoyed. Gambling, hunting, drinking, these were what held his attention. Of course, women did, as well. The thought made him chuckle; none of the women with whom he spent his time would be acceptable to his father. Marriage was for the weak-minded, and if he desired a kiss or other forms of affection from a woman, he preferred to find one without the hassle of marriage.

  The door to the dressmaker’s shop next door opened, and Holden almost groaned as Miss Caroline Thrup exited. The woman wore a yellow dress with matching ribbons on her hat, but none of that kept his attention. Behind her was another woman, one of great beauty, in a blue dress with a modest neckline and few frills. Dark hair showed beneath a fashionable hat, and even from this distance he could make out crystal blue eyes when her gaze met his.

  “Mr. Bradshaw,” Miss Thrup said in that singsong voice that grated his nerves.

  Holden pretended not to hear her as he turned in the opposite direction. He might find the woman’s companion interesting, but Miss Thrup was annoying enough to wish he could be far, far away.

  Unfortunately, Miss Thrup was not about to allow him to leave without speaking to her. He could hear the clicking of her boots on the footpath before she tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Bradshaw?”

  He could no longer act as if he did not hear her addressing him, so he stopped and turned to offer the women his best smile. “Forgive me,” he said with a bow. “I am afraid my mind was on business, as it always seems to be these days.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Miss Thrup, it has been far too long since we last spoke.”

  “At least a year,” the woman replied. She then turned to her companion. “Mr. Bradshaw, may I introduce a dear family friend, Miss Rose Skylark.”

  “A pleasure,” Miss Skylark said. Her voice was as melodious as the bird for which she was named.

  At least this encounter will not be a complete waste of time, he thought. “Miss Skylark, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, earning him the boon of seeing her blush. Then an idea occurred to him, and he returned his attention to Miss Thrup. “I am pleased we met, for I was going to send an invitation. Yet, here you are before me. How fortuitous! You see, I will be hosting a party at Ramada Estate and I wonder if you would like to attend.”

  As expected, Miss Thrup beamed. “I would be honored to attend, but I am currently staying at Scarlett Hall as companion to Rose. I could not possibly attend while my friend is left behind.”

  “Scarlett Hall?” Holden asked, turning to Miss Skylark. “A very fine home, indeed. Please, send Lady Lambert my best wishes.”

  “I will,” Miss Skylark replied, her cheeks turning a delectable shade of pink.

  Holden glanced up at the sky. Had the sun become brighter suddenly? He felt flushed and desperately desired a glass of water. “Then both of you are invited. I most certainly would like to learn more about you, Miss Skylark.” He noticed the scowl on Miss Thrup’s face, so he quickly added, “And to speak of old times with you, of course, Miss Thrup. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine mentioned you just last week. He had nothing but high praises for you.”

  “For me?” Miss Thrup asked, excitement ringing in her tone. “May I ask who?”

  Holden smiled. “We shall talk about it at the party. I will send the invitations today to Scarlett Hall. I hope you will both attend.”

  Although both women nodded, only Miss Skylark’s attendance mattered to Holden. A woman as beautiful as she would not only please his father but make his friends jealous, as well. They would be wishing they had met her first, and judging by her innocent smile, she would be easy prey for garnering a kiss if he so desired. It did not matter if she refused, for he would brag of conquering her even if he did not. Who would question him, especially when the woman was an unknown?

  “I look forward to your attendance,” he said with a bow. “Please, forgive me for rushing away, but I am finalizing the purchase of a new home in London.”

  This made the women grin. Was that envy he saw etched in their features? Good.

  With that, he walked away. Perhaps his father’s idea of speaking to every woman was not so bad after all. Had this encounter not gone quite well? As a matter of fact, the more he dwelt on the idea of seeing Miss Skylark again, the more it appealed to him. The woman would be a wonderful conquest indeed.

  Chapter Four

  After four days of exploring Scarlett Hall, Rose was now more familiar with her surroundings. No longer did she become lost in the multitude of wings with their winding corridors. She found that most wings no longer held interest for her once she explored them, and of all the rooms inside the house, she came to enjoy her new bedroom and the drawing room the most.

  At the moment, she sat in the latter staring at an invitation from Mr. Holden Bradshaw that had arrived an hour earlier, Caroline sitting beside her tapping her chin between glances at her own invitation.

  “I cannot help but wonder what friend of his I have attracted,” Caroline said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is Mr. Banner. He is a handsome fellow, even if he is a bit stuffy at times. It could also very well be Mr. Tompkins. Not knowing is exasperating.”

  Rose knew neither men, but she smiled nonetheless as she placed the invitation on the table. “Whoever it is, I believe he will find himself fortunate to speak with you.”

  The words made Caroline grin. “The manner in which Mr. Bradshaw stared at you the other day says that he has an admiration for you.”

  “Admiration?” Rose scoffed. “I doubt rather highly it is that serious. I hardly said anything to the man.” She could not help but smile, however, for she remembered his wide appreciative grin. He had been kind and attentive, both admirable qualities a possible suitor should possess.

  Caroline sighed and smoothed the skirts of her lime green gown. “I have seen enough men who have become enamored with women to know that Mr. Bradshaw most certainly had that look about him. Did you not find him handsome?”

  Rose stared at the woman. She was much bolder in her questions than any of Rose’s friends in London. Never would have one asked such a personal question, for they had been trained to always maintain a ladylike appearance.

  When Rose did not respond, Caroline gasped. “Do you find him repulsive?” she asked with clear surprise.

  “It is not that,” Rose replied. “It is just…”

  The door opened and the butler entered with a tea tray. Forbes had proven to be a pleasant and helpful man, and Rose suspected he would be someone she could go to if she needed a confidante. With Caroline and Aunt Eleanor close at hand, she doubted she would need to confide in him, but it was nice to know she had yet another person she could trust in this new environment. One could never have too many people to trust.

  After Forbes poured the tea, he bowed and left the room once more.

  “You must tell me if you find him handsome or repulsive,” Caroline said the moment the door clicked shut. “Such matters must be discussed among women, especially friends.”

  Rose considered the woman’s words. Perhaps the ladies of Rumsbury were different from those in London. She had heard it said that country women were more open about personal topics than those in the city, and now that she was in the country, perhaps she was being rude by not discussing such things. Rude was not a characteristic for which she wished to be known!

  “I must admit,” she said with a sigh, “he is handsome. I do not u
nderstand what it is about him that makes it so, but his hair is so dark and full of thick curls, I could not help but admire it.” Just speaking such private thoughts aloud made her cheeks heat, but it was a relief to voice them. “Handsome is a fine trait, but there are more important ones a man who wishes to call on me must have. He must have impeccable manners, a kind heart, and he must appreciate a woman’s handiwork—such as embroidery.”

  Caroline grimaced. “You enjoy embroidery?” Why did the woman sound surprised?

  “Why, yes, of course. Do not all ladies?”

  Judging by Caroline’s raised eyebrows, it was not the case. “Embroidery is for women who are stuck in the house while their husbands go out and play,” the woman said with a sniff. She shook her head. “I see I must be completely blunt with you, but the man you are searching for will never be found. Men have no interest in anything a lady does. Besides how well their gown fits their body, of course, and that only before they are married.”

  “That cannot be true,” Rose said. “Surely not all men are so simpleminded.”

  “Mother spends an interminable amount of time working her needlework,” Caroline said, “and Father never takes any notice of it, even when she has completed it and she places it in his hands. The simple truth is that women are often used for bringing about heirs and not much more. Oh, they might be a pretty addition to the arm of any man when it comes to parties and whatnot, but once they have been married for a few years, that, too, becomes unimportant. That is why so many women have four, five, or even more children—to keep themselves entertained.”

  Rose eyed the invitation. She had looked forward to attending the party to which Mr. Bradshaw had invited her, for she hoped to find a gentleman worthy of courting her. Now, however, she was finding the idea less appealing. If what Caroline said was true, Rose wanted no part of it.

  Caroline stood and yawned. “I believe I am going to nap. Would you like to go to the gardens with me this afternoon?”