Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor

by Rue Allyn

  Guilford’s last words struck a chord with her. “Do not say such things …”

  “Oh, but I must! My situation cannot be ignored and there is much to be done before my time is up.”

  Greatly distressed, Rhianna could not respond. The thought of separating from Audra crushed her under the best of circumstances, but this, the thought of separating from Audra as she lost her beloved father, was devastating. Rhianna pressed her hand to the side of the bed for support.

  “Not to worry,” he assured her. “I have made arrangements for you both. All will be well …” She looked at him in amazement, as he added, “… but first …” Guilford Kingsley raised himself up further in his bed and cleared his throat. “I am sorry for the tale I have to tell you, and I hope you can forgive me.”

  He drew as deep a breath as he was able and begged her to hear him out fully. “Thirty years ago, I came into contact with a family by the name of Rotherhithe,” he began. “The Rotherhithes were a prominent family, with a solid reputation and significant wealth — at least, such was the pretense. They were the talk of London at the time and my father soon arranged for my marriage to their eldest daughter. I had hardly known her two months when we were wed. You know her today as Lydia Kingsley.

  “Unbeknownst to all, the Rotherhithes had lost their fortune to dishonest and self-indulgent lifestyles. When Lydia and I were united, it became clear the connection worked only as a political advantage. Financially, it benefitted only Lydia. It was a difficult lie to surmount and it was not the only obstacle to a successful union. As is the case with most arranged marriages, Lydia and I had no attachment to each other. Try as I would to make our family work, her heart lay with her cousin, Pierson.”

  Lord Kingsley paused. It was more speaking than he had done recently and he took a moment to catch his breath. Rhianna offered him a drink of water and he accepted with her assistance.

  “Lord Kingsley,” she said delicately, “with all due respect, I cannot fathom what your purpose can be in telling me such intimate details …”

  “Time passed,” he continued with effort. “Lydia and I were strangers living under the same roof when Desmond was born. A horrific child, mind you, that went through one governess after another. There was only one who really tried to work with him, shortly before he was old enough to send away to Oxford. Her name was Haldana Greenhalgh; I called her Hallie.”

  Rhianna froze in her seat, suddenly terrified that with one small movement she might miss a word of what he had to say. This was an unexpected turn in the conversation and she was inwardly thrilled that she would finally know something about Hallie.

  “The Greenhalghs, like the Rotherhithes, had at one time been extremely wealthy. Unlike them, however, they did not lose their wealth to corruption and decadence. Rather, an unfortunate accident, a fire, claimed not only their home and land, but the lives of Hallie’s parents and siblings. Hallie alone survived.

  “Forced with the reality that she would need to provide for herself, she knew what her options were. She did the only thing that is open to a woman who falls into such a situation. Hallie became a governess. She was eighteen years old when she found a position here at Kingsley Manor.” Guilford pressed his lips together and his eyes watered. With the tears that followed, he added, “It was then, for the first time in my life, that I fell in love.”

  This tale did little to assist Rhianna, who continued to fight her own tears, as she had from the moment she sat beside him.

  “She was the most beautiful of women,” he went on, his breathing labored more from emotion than illness, “an angel of heaven. Kind, compassionate, loving — everything that Lydia was not. There was not to be found a gentler soul on all the Earth, and what was more, she returned my affections. I was the happiest of men, then. Lydia and Pierson could have taken all of my possessions — and mind you, they tried — but so long as I had Hallie, it mattered not. With her, I felt true happiness.”

  Guilford paused again and cleared his throat. At the same time, he examined Rhianna’s face and she wondered if it appeared to him more emotional or captivated. He proceeded.

  “Not many months passed when Hallie became pregnant with my child,” he told her, quickly, as if he had never before said it aloud. “I knew Hallie could not stay in the house once her condition became obvious, but I was determined to provide for her. Around her fourth month, she resigned as governess. My hope was to bring her with me to my Irish estate, Wyndgate, but my business at the time would not allow me to leave England. Neither of us was keen on being separated, so I moved her to my hunting lodge. It was intended to be a temporary solution, while she waited out the pregnancy.

  “Of course, someone would need to care for her. At Hallie’s request, a letter was sent to her old nanny, the woman who had brought her up as a child. They were very close. I believe you know her,” he smiled, and the blood drained from Rhianna’s face as she guessed whom he meant. “Mauvreen came to live with her as a caretaker and, ultimately, served as her midwife. Hallie carried the baby to term, and gave birth to a daughter.” He paused. “For the second time in my life, I fell in love.”

  Rhianna’s heart moved for him. In such an unfair world, she was glad there was some happiness to be had for him, however sinful. She offered Guilford another glass of water. Rhianna found just enough time to wipe away a tear without his noticing, as he sipped.

  “To my greatest devastation,” he went on, after a heartfelt moment of silence, “Hallie did not survive. As you may be aware, My Dearest Haldana is buried in the garden behind the lodge.”

  “I’ve been there,” Rhianna confessed. She surprised herself when she spoke. “Surrounded by roses.”

  “They were her favorite.” Speaking with impressive honesty, he told her, “It was there that my life would have ended, as well, but for the baby that lived.”

  “Please go on,” Rhianna encouraged, as he hesitated.

  Lord Kingsley nodded, as if gaining courage. “By the mercy of God, Hallie was blessed with seeing and naming her child before her death. But the miserable question arose as to what to do with the baby. I could not bring her to Kingsley Manor and she could not be raised by Mauvreen in the lodge. It was sheer coincidence that, at around that same time, Mrs. Braden also had been pregnant and was due to give birth.”

  At hearing this, a short gasp escaped Rhianna’s lips. “Are you speaking of myself?”

  Guilford shook his head. “Actually, I am not. Mrs. Braden gave birth to a stillborn. You can see its unmarked grave in the churchyard, next to the Bradens’ graves today.”

  Rhianna’s spirits fell at hearing this. She had never known of her mother’s loss, and she inwardly mourned the death of what she imagined would have been an older brother or sister to herself.

  “Mr. Braden was one of the few who were aware of my situation and I turned to him for help. Offering to provide financial support, I begged that he would take my child and raise it as his own.”

  Rhianna’s brows furrowed as she considered this. Suddenly, her heart was racing. She had no siblings. Her father must have declined his request.

  “What did … my father … say?” she asked, choking on her own words.

  Guilford’s eyes were pained as he looked at her. “He said that he would.”

  All at once, his words rushed in at her. The room was void of air. Her limbs went numb. The fibers of her very being felt disjointed and an internal struggle to remain whole — to remain her — ensued.

  “Rhianna,” he told her, gently, “you are my daughter. I only pray that you understand why I had no choice but to do what I did and can forgive me for letting you go.”

  She knew not when her free hand covered her mouth, but she was grateful the other still supported her against the bed. Rhianna felt the pressure of emotion building within her and she feared its release.

  “I want you to know how very much I have loved you from the beginning,” he added, “and how very much I love you now.”

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p; Rhianna stood and faced away from him, her every extremity entirely without sensation. She was conscious only of the fierce pounding of her heart as it pumped her blood wildly through her veins. The back of the chair she had been seated in became her new source of physical stability while her entire life began to flash before her eyes. The emotional distance displayed by her parents during her young years with them. How very much she did not look like them. Their lack of communication during her years in France. It was little wonder that when Lord Kingsley arrived to tell her of their funeral arrangements, that she felt little other than obligation to return to England …

  When Lord Kingsley arrived.

  At that moment, the pieces began to fall into place for her. His traveling to France was not, at least solely, out of gratitude to Mr. Braden. He traveled to France for her. His devotion to her comfort, his kindness, his familial manner, and …

  And then something else occurred to her, and she turned back to him. She began to feel one all-encompassing emotion at a time, starting with hope.

  “Audra?” she asked.

  Guilford seemed relieved to see her face him again, and nodded. “Your half-sister.”

  Euphoria.

  And then …

  “Desmond?” she breathed, sickly.

  He shook his head. “Lydia and Pierson’s child.”

  Shock.

  Relief.

  Rhianna shivered, as if her body required it to expel any other possibility of a relation to him. A moment later, she asked Lord Kingsley the only full-length question she could articulate.

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  Guilford sighed. The impression was in relief. There was no doubt he had been anticipating a release from this secret for some time.

  “There are several reasons,” he confessed, “some of them purely selfish on my part. I want you to know how much you were loved by your mother, who in only a few hours loved you enough for your entire lifetime. You deserve to know that you sing with her voice — the voice of an angel, truly.”

  Rhianna recalled how Guilford excused himself from the drawing room the night she performed for the Kingsleys and Brightons.

  “I want you to know how much you have been loved by me, from the moment I knew that you were coming into the world,” he continued. “I want you … I want you to know how very much you look like your grandmother, Catherine Kingsley.” He smiled. “You know, Dowager Lady Whitehall may not have seen a ghost that night at the ball, but I couldn’t blame her for thinking it.”

  As he spoke, the strength in her legs began to fail her and she reclaimed her seat beside him. So much for single, identifiable emotions — she no longer knew how to feel. It was all too much. Rhianna recalled the moment during the ball when everything stopped. The old woman’s loud cry, her frightened face, her certainty that Rhianna was “Catherine.”

  “Fortunately,” he continued, “there is no one else still living who knew my mother in her youth to recognize you. But those are the selfish reasons for telling you the truth, Rhianna. There are some practical reasons, as well.”

  Rhianna was certain she could not speak for some time, but she took his hand in hers. It was all she could offer for the moment. Guilford beamed. She felt him squeeze her hand, but his grip was weak.

  “Kingsley Manor,” he told her, his voice a raspy whisper, “unfortunately, is entailed to Desmond. As much as I wish I could do something about that, I cannot. However, Wyndgate is unentailed.”

  “Wyndgate,” she repeated. “The Irish estate you spoke of?”

  He nodded. “It is more desirable to Desmond than even this house and the title that comes with it because of the debt that he and Pierson have incurred through their compulsive gambling. Pierson has no rank in the peerage and is very likely to end up in debtor’s prison. But Wyndgate could be sold and the debts absolved. That is, if Desmond were to inherit it, which Lydia has always assumed. The fact is, Rhianna, it is the one aspect of my wealth that I can control. It also happens that I care very little for Pierson’s debts when I have two daughters to care for. The will I have drawn up leaves Wyndgate to you and Audra, fifty-fifty.”

  Rhianna’s mouth fell, but he left her little time to absorb his words.

  “Of course, Lydia and Desmond still have no idea I deeded the benefice to Mr. Braden some twenty years back in exchange for taking you. At the time I had done so, I stipulated it not become public knowledge. Mr. Braden, of course, had no objection so long as he was receiving all the tithes and revenue from the glebe. You can have no idea of my relief when you readily agreed to my request for discretion on the matter. Lydia and Desmond will not be happy when they find out,” he warned her. “You will have friends on your side, though. Weathersby can be trusted, as well as my lawyer, Mr. Brown. Of course, I will let Brighton know my wishes …”

  Brighton.

  Thayne.

  A hazy idea passed through her mind that this would affect her future with him, but she pushed it quickly away. There were other things to take over her thoughts.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she told him honestly. “This is so inconceivable …”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “I may leave unentailed property to whomever I choose, male or not, relation or not.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No … everything … it is all so …” Rhianna choked on her own voice. “Who else … knows … about me?”

  Guilford wet his dry lips. “Besides your mother and me, Mr. and Mrs. Braden, and Mauvreen, obviously, Weathersby is the only other person who knows all. In fact, he is the one who delivered you as a baby to the Bradens one windy night.” He sighed. “I wish I could tell the world you are Rhianna Kingsley, my eldest daughter, but to the world you must remain Rhianna Braden,” he lamented. “I am sure you can never forgive me, but there are no options for illegitimate children.”

  Suddenly, Rhianna’s heart stopped. She could never keep this from Thayne, and once he knew the truth he would never marry her. Marrying a governess was beneath him as it was, but a bastard was something else altogether. Devastation was slowly creeping up on her.

  “I realize it will be impossible for you to continue here once my will is read,” he acknowledged, “not to mention what Desmond has done. I have contacted a family — friends of mine — named Bridgeford. Lord Bridgeford and his wife live about thirty miles or so northwest of here and their daughter Emily is in need of a governess. They are hoping to hear you are available.”

  Lord Kingsley, in this one action, showed more affection toward her than the curate had in nearly a decade. All this, arranged for her in advance! It helped to push aside her other thoughts, that just when she believed her days as a governess were behind her, she would be off to live with another family, working with a new child, one that was not …

  Her half-sister Audra.

  “Lord Kingsley,” she began, “Father …” The word sounded strange in her mouth. “I want you to know how much I truly appreciate … everything. I have no doubt that you love me. You have not neglected me, all these years, making sure I was cared for, that I received education, that I had a home. I can see that.”

  For the first time since the room had cleared of all other persons, Guilford Kingsley was silent. Rhianna’s small speech was not delivered without emotion, and that she did not reject him seemed to ease him.

  “That is all I could ever hope for.”

  “I understand perfectly,” she finished, exhaling as she spoke the words. “And … I harbor no resentment. In fact, I feel … happy.” The surprise of this revelation reflected in her voice. “I always felt I belonged here. It all makes sense.”

  “I expect nothing from you, Rhianna,” he assured her quickly.

  “I forgive you.”

  A peaceful look fell upon his face and, in that moment, Rhianna was sure she would have nothing to regret upon Guilford Kingsley’s passing.

  “My mother, Catherine, lived here at Kingsley Manor during her later years,” he s
truggled. Rhianna could see his energy was failing him. “I have stored some of my personal items in her old bedroom and keep it locked at all times.” Rhianna knew the room at once, the only locked door in the house. “Weathersby has a key,” he told her. “I have instructed him to give it only to you.”

  “To me?”

  “In the upper drawer of the corner dresser you will find the address of the Bridgefords.”

  She nodded, as if accepting her fate.

  “And Rhianna …” he smiled, “… uncover the portrait over the fireplace.”

  A knock rapped on the door and Henry entered. “Lord Brighton,” he announced, and Thayne stepped around him.

  “Forgive me, am I intruding?” Thayne asked.

  “No, no,” Guilford assured him.

  Rhianna was expecting Audra to rush in behind him, but she did not appear.

  Thayne must have read her thoughts, for he answered them, saying, “Audra fell asleep.”

  Rhianna suddenly remembered there was a world outside of Lord Kingsley’s bedroom. “I’ll go check on her,” she told him, rising. “It is only fair that you have your time with Lord Kingsley.”

  Thayne shot her a worried glance. “Why do we not go together? I won’t be long.”

  “Desmond Kingsley is not returning to the manor for the time being,” she assured him.

  With a look at her father, she smiled and took leave before Thayne could object further.

  • • •

  With the door to Guilford’s bedroom closed behind her, Rhianna noted that the servants had been shooed away. Only Weathersby remained, and she turned to him.

  “Mr. Weathersby, I …”

  “Miss Braden.”

  He held out his clenched hand to her. Her eyes lowered to the fingers that held the key to Catherine Kingsley’s room and the hallway around her began to swirl. She blinked, held out her own hand, and felt the key drop into it. She closed her fingers quickly around it.

  “Thank you.”

  His thin lips pulled a little to the sides, but his expression was stiff. It was clear he cared for Guilford deeply and the worry that consumed him could be read on every part of his face.