Songs of Yesterday

by Monroe, Jennifer

  “No,” Eleanor replied firmly, “I will not.”

  Without another word, Forbes stood, gave her a dignified bow, and slipped out of the room, allowing Eleanor time to dwell on his words. What he said was true. She had not failed in the past, whether it had been her misstep or that of another, and she would not fail now.

  ***

  Rose felt as if she were walking on clouds. Not only was she to be married soon, but her mother had arrived the night before. Her life could not have been better.

  After a light lunch, she sat with her mother in the drawing room to speak of Rose’s future.

  “We will live with his father at Ramada Estate for a short time at first,” Rose said. “However, his father means to move to their home near Dover soon after.”

  “I am so pleased for you,” her mother said. “It has always been my dream to see my children married.” She sighed. “Have you written to your brother?”

  Rose nodded. “I did. Graham already replied that he is pleased for me.”

  She glanced at her mother’s hand. The woman had told her that she had lost weight after eating bad clams in Paris, which in turn cut short her visit there. Although Rose wished to believe her, she could not shake the sense that the woman was hiding something from her.

  “I look forward to meeting your fiancé and his father tomorrow. It will be quite the dinner celebration, I am sure.”

  Rose wrung her hands and forced a smile. It was time to prod for information, and her stomach clenched at the thought. Did she truly want to learn the truth? Yes, she did. “I wish Father were alive to witness my wedding. I imagine he would have approved of Holden.”

  “I am sure he would have,” her mother said. “And I wish he could be here with you, as well; however, you should not dwell on such things when there is so much happiness in front of you.”

  Rose nodded, but the need to know grew. “Mother,” she said carefully, “may I share something with you?”

  “Of course, my dear,” her mother replied. “You know you can tell me anything.” She patted Rose’s hand. “What is troubling you? Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No, it is not that,” Rose replied. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do not tell Aunt Eleanor, but I found a letter you wrote to Lord Lambert.”

  Startlement crossed her mother’s features but was soon gone, and Rose wondered if she had imagined it. “I wrote Charles many times over the year. He was once a good friend, after all.”

  “So you have often said. However, this letter was quite different, for you asked him to never call or write again. Is it because, as Aunt Eleanor said, he made improper advances when he was intoxicated?”

  Her mother sighed. “I am afraid so,” she said. “He tended to overindulge quite often, and when he had drunk too much, he spoke foolishly. I thought it was best that he keep away lest he attempt to realize his notions.”

  “Then why…”

  “My beautiful daughter,” her mother interrupted, “it pains me that my friendship with a man ended. But he has been dead for some years now, and I do not wish to revisit those painful times. I would prefer to remember him for the good days we had together.”

  Guilt washed over Rose. She had not meant for her curiosity to hurt her mother. However, she had one final question that had to be answered.

  “Lord Drake…Holden has done business with the man.”

  “So your aunt told me last night. I understand that she told you of the child I carried that was his.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Rose said, her insides churning as she readied her next question, “but this question will be my last. Lord Drake told me that, several years after you left Rumsbury, he went to London in order to apologize to you and even offer marriage, but you refused him. Did he tell the truth?”

  Her mother’s sigh expressed that Rose was close to pushing too far. “He did. He attempted to right a wrong, but by then it was too late.”

  Rose forced a smile. “That is all I wished to know,” she said. For now, she thought. “And as you said, there are more pleasant topics to discuss.”

  Her mother relaxed visibly. “Indeed, there are.”

  As they discussed the upcoming nuptials, Rose was grateful her mother was there. She could not stop the nagging feeling that the woman had kept back important information from her concerning her father, yet she resigned herself with what she knew. There was no need to explore the past, not with the bright future that was before her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holden felt his life was nearly complete. He had proven to his father his ability to maintain the family investments, repaired his friendship with David, and most importantly, had fallen in love with a woman who returned his affections.

  He and his father had been invited to Scarlett Hall for dinner, where they would meet Rose’s mother and begin the final preparations for the wedding.

  The plan was that they marry at his family home, Ramada Estate, which would become their home once his father left for Dover. The idea of finding a woman with whom he wished to share his life was strange, but it left him with a sense of peace that he was making the correct decision.

  Returning the business ledger to its place on the shelf, Holden organized the desk. His father was due to return at any time, as he had been away on business for the past two weeks. It had been his father’s plan to return yesterday, but he had been detained, although he had assured Holden by letter that he still wished to attend the dinner. Holden hoped the man would not be too tired to engage in conversation.

  Footsteps in the hallway made him turn toward the door. When his father entered, Holden relaxed his shoulders. He had not noticed how tense he was. Standing straight and tall, he approached his father with a smile.

  “Welcome home,” Holden said as he put out his hand. When his father did not shake it, he allowed it to drop to his side. “I have excellent news. Rose’s mother has arrived, so we will be able to proceed with the reading of the banns.”

  His father walked past him with a scowl. “There will be no banns,” he said. “You will call off your engagement with Miss Skylark immediately.”

  Holden stared at his father in shock. “But everything is in place. Rose has accepted my proposal of marriage and with her mother here…”

  “Sit,” his father commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

  With no other choice, Holden sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his father taking the one Holden had just vacated.

  “During my journey, I made inquiries into a Michael Skylark, your fiancée’s father.”

  Holden felt a sense of foreboding fill him. “But why? He is dead.”

  “Perhaps,” his father replied as he leaned back into his chair. “If the man even existed. I found no record of him anywhere. In fact, no one has even heard of him.”

  This made Holden laugh. “Certainly there are many people with whom we have never had the pleasure of making an acquaintance. That does not mean they do not exist. I imagine there are even people in Rumsbury we have never met.”

  “The story concerning his death in Paris struck me as odd. I had dismissed it as nothing more than the foolishness of a woman. However, I made inquiries as to any estate or business holdings in the man’s name and found nothing.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Are you keeping anything from me?”

  “Of course not, Father,” Holden replied. “Surely there are records somewhere. I am certain Rose’s mother will know.”

  His father slammed his fist on the desktop. “Have you even met her mother?”

  “No. We are to meet her tonight at dinner.”

  “Well, I know of her,” his father snapped. “She is a woman of loose morals who fled Rumsbury years ago because she was carrying a child out of wedlock. It was rumored that Lord Drake fathered the child, but I have yet to substantiate the claim.”

  “Lord Drake?” Holden whispered.

  His mind returned to the day a fortnight ago whe
n he and Rose went to the man’s home to purchase the horse. When they had returned, Rose had seemed not quite herself—sad in some way. She had admitted that it had stemmed from thoughts of her father, but he never suspected what she had meant by those words.

  “Are you listening to me?” his father demanded.

  Holden nodded absently but said nothing.

  “The engagement is over. You have been duped by a woman whose past is as questionable as her birth, which gives you every legal right to end it.”

  Panic overcame Holden. He had no intentions of ending the engagement. Whatever Rose’s past, he would accept it, but he had to devise a quick plan if he was to get his father to agree. “There must be some sort of misunderstanding,” he said. “I imagine this issue can be cleared up once we speak to her mother at dinner tonight.”

  His father sighed. “You must realize that marriage is more than simply gaining a woman for your bed. It is an agreement between two estates, and I will not risk my good name, nor yours, by learning that this woman is a bastard.”

  Holden tightened his fist to keep from shouting. “She is not a bastard,” he said. “At least allow us to ask her mother directly.”

  “Very well,” his father said. “However, if I am not satisfied with her answers, you must give me your word that you will put an end to this fiasco. I will not have you disappoint me in this matter.”

  Relief washed over Holden. “Of course, but I do not believe it will come to that. I will not disappoint you, I promise.”

  Satisfied, his father left the study, and Holden crumpled in his seat. Surely it was all just a simple misunderstanding and the matter would be resolved at dinner that evening.

  Yet, a new thought occurred to Holden. What if Rose was indeed lying and she had been born out of wedlock? To him, it mattered not, but his father would never agree to such a union. And after so long working to earn his father’s approval, would he be able to abandon it all for Rose?

  ***

  The tension in the room was palpable as Rose sat at the dinner table. Lord Bradshaw did nothing to hide his disapproval of her and her mother, despite Aunt Eleanor’s attempts to lighten the mood with discussion of the upcoming wedding. Unfortunately, Holden said nothing in defense of her, and that made it hurt all the more.

  “I simply have questions that need to be answered,” Lord Bradshaw said as soon as the final course was removed. “And those questions must be answered to my satisfaction if this wedding is to take place.”

  Her mother, looking paler than she had upon her arrival, said, “I will be happy to answer any of your inquiries as best I can. Please, just tell me what you wish to know.”

  “Rose,” Aunt Eleanor said with a smile, “would you please wait for us in the drawing room?”

  Rose’s heart clenched. She did not like being sent away like a child, but she had no choice. “Yes, Aunt Eleanor.”

  “I will accompany you,” Holden said, standing as Rose did.

  As soon as they entered the drawing room, Rose spun about, her confusion turning to anger. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Why is your father upset with me. What have I done? Please, tell me, so I can make things right.”

  Holden took her hand and led her to the sofa. “I must ask you something, and I want you to be truthful.”

  “Of course,” Rose replied.

  “Is Lord Drake your father?”

  The question struck her as odd. Yet, had she not wondered the same. “No,” she replied. “He is not my father.”

  “Your mother left Rumsbury carrying his child,” Holden said. “Please understand, I do not judge her for it, but the rumors say he was the father. Are those rumors wrong, then?”

  “No, they are not wrong,” she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. “However, I am not that child. Mother miscarried not long after arriving in London. So, this is why your father is so angry? Because my mother had relations with him outside of marriage? That has nothing to do with me.”

  “That is not what angers him,” Holden said. “You said your father was an officer in the British Army and that he died during a battle in Paris.”

  “Yes, I did not lie about that.”

  Holden turned to face her, the sadness in his eyes evident. “No Michael Skylark was ever a member of the British Army. There is also not a single land deed or business investment with that name. Not now and not when you were born.”

  Rose shook her head, her heart crumbling. “I know little of such matters, but I swear to you, he was my father. You must believe me.”

  He grasped her hand. “I do, but it is not I who must be convinced. Father is making his own inquiries, and if he does not find answers to his questions, he has commanded that I end our engagement.”

  The world tumbled down around Rose, and she began to sob into her hands. “I must tell you something, but I fear that when I do, you will only be angry with me. However, I cannot keep this secret from you. No marriage can begin in such a way.”

  “I will not be angry,” Holden said. “I love you regardless of what you tell me. Is it that your father was merely a merchant? Or perhaps a servant? Such unions have happened before and will happen again. Father may be unhappy, but he can say nothing if you were not born out of wedlock.”

  Rose sighed. “No, that is not it.” She swallowed hard. Revealing her suspicions would surely end what they had, but what would they have if it was all built on lies? “I have been asking questions about who my father is, but I keep encountering conflicting information. I finally gave up and accepted what Mother told me, but from what you say, I may not be able to.”

  Holden pulled her into his arms, and she sobbed against his chest. How could life change so quickly?

  “No matter what we learn,” he whispered as he stroked her head. “no matter who your father was, my love for you will never end. Somehow, this will be made right in the end. It must.”

  Voices in the hallway made them separate. Rose wiped at her eyes, hoping she was not too blotchy. The door opened, and Lord Bradshaw entered.

  “We are leaving,” the man said. “Miss Skylark, I am sorry, but the engagement is off.”

  “Father,” Holden said, jumping to his feet, “surely you are making an irrational decision in this matter. Were your questions not answered to your satisfaction?”

  “Not even remotely,” his father replied, pulling a glove onto his hand as if it had somehow been what had offended him. “Now, do not embarrass me further.”

  Rose turned beseeching eyes on her fiancé. “Holden, please, do not leave me.”

  Holden hung his head. “I have no choice.” As he walked past her, however, he whispered, “I will speak to you soon. There must be a way.” Unfortunately, there was little conviction in his voice as he said the last.

  Rose had to grab a chair in order to steady herself. Never had her heart experienced such pain. Not only had she lost the man she loved, the identity of her father had now been brought to the forefront once again.

  Would she learn she was truly a bastard child? Or was her father the hero she had always believed him to be?

  She heard the door open, and she looked up to see her mother and Aunt Eleanor enter the room. She hurried over and threw her arms around her mother.

  “Please, do not lie to me! Who is my father, and why does no one seem to know him?” She glanced at her aunt, whose face was filled with pain. “Please, I must know.”

  Her mother nodded. “It is time,” she said, leading Rose to the sofa, where Rose sat between her mother and her aunt. “For more than eighteen years, I have held a secret that no one but your aunt knows. Scarlett Hall hums with many secrets, and now I shall tell you one of them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  London 1787

  Lady Rachel Prescott peered out the window of her London home as the storm raged, the wind sending leaves and other debris tumbling down the street.

  The sun, now hidden behind gray clouds, would not set for several hours, and Rache
l thought back to her life in Rumsbury. Her life there had been spent amongst friends, yet that ended when she made the decision to have relations with a man to whom she was not married and she became with child.

  Despite its troubling beginnings, she would have loved that child, but not long after her arrival to London four years earlier, she miscarried a daughter, leaving Rachel devastated and lost.

  Now that she was able to look back upon that loss, she saw that it had been a blessing in disguise. What right did she have to bring a child into this world as a bastard? Children born out of wedlock had uncertain futures, and Rachel would have subjected that child to ridicule and ostracism despite the fact Rachel was a baroness.

  Then, three weeks ago, the very man who had rejected her, who had left her in shame in Rumsbury, arrived to beg forgiveness. He had experienced some sort of life-changing revelation and had been so sincere, she had no other choice than to forgive him.

  Although the child had been lost, he offered her marriage, but she had politely refused him. One day they would marry, but it would not be to one another, for she did not love him.

  Taking a sip of her wine, she thought of her son, Graham. He had gone to stay with a cousin of Rachel’s for the week, for the woman could not have children of her own and Graham brought her joy. Granted, the woman spoiled him, but they had a mutual love for one another that lifted Rachel’s spirits. He deserved to be happy.

  Frowning, she watched as a hunched figure hurried past the window and up the steps to her door. She was not expecting anyone, and with this weather, few people would be out.

  Moments later, Dawson appeared.

  “My lady,” the butler intoned with a bow, “a gentleman to see you. A Lord Lambert.”

  Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “Charles?” she asked in shock. “Please, see him in.”

  It had been four years since she had seen her friend, and the unexpected arrival made her smile. How curious that on a day she was remembering Rumsbury an old acquaintance would stop by. What a wonderful surprise!