‘That must have been me,’ Merryn said, her freckled face creased with anxiety. ‘So that’s the reason she never told me anything about my father, because she’d no idea who he was.’
‘That is the case, I’m afraid.’
‘And was I your illegitimate child?’ Cecily asked, giving a little gasp.
‘You were indeed, dear girl.’
Boyd cleared his throat and swiftly asked, ‘Are you saying that I am not Cecily’s half-brother?’
‘Absolutely, dear boy. You are Queenie’s son but not mine, as I believe Nan explained to you. She was, however, unaware that Cecily is the daughter of my former mistress who died of scarlet fever, not Queenie’s daughter. But, yes, I am her father.’
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Something lit within Cecily as she met Boyd’s glittering gaze. He looked equally thrilled and excited by this news. ‘So the fact I am not actually Queenie’s daughter is the reason she never showed much interest in me, almost resenting my presence. Merryn was mainly her favourite child, although just before she died she did tell me she loved me and had lived in fear of losing me.’
He looked racked with guilt as he nodded his head. ‘I apologise for foolishly being guilty of bigamy in order to save my reputation and inheritance. As a consequence, my so-called true marriage also collapsed and I quickly left London to retreat to our estate here in Scotland, not wishing to risk being charged by either of those ladies. I remained absent from Queenie’s life but did fund her care of you, Cecily. I would occasionally ask if I might visit, being very fond of you, dear girl. She always refused to allow me to come, possibly fearing I might take you away, particularly once my father had eventually departed this world and I was free to do as I pleased.’
‘Are you saying she had no wish to part with me, or else feared you might thereafter stop supplying her with the income she depended upon?’
‘Who knows! She definitely had no wish to lose you. Nor did she ever wish to see me again. And as my very determined wife Seraphina also threatened to charge me with bigamy, I stopped making that request and kept well away from both ladies. As a consequence, I’ve had no children to care for, simply the companionship of a small dog, this one my latest,’ he said, giving Shep a loving tickle.
Then giving Merryn a pitying look, Lord Stanford said, ‘We have no idea who your father was, dear girl, but you are indeed Queenie’s daughter.’
‘I can live with that reality, particularly now that I have a daughter of my own whom I adore, and am about to rid myself of a violent husband.’
‘Ah, if that’s what he is, good for you! Do take care of yourself and your dear child. Also take note that although you two girls are not, strictly speaking, sisters, you can surely continue to act as such.’
‘Oh, that hadn’t occurred to me,’ Cecily said, looking startled, then wrapping her arms around Merryn, gave a little chuckle. ‘I still feel as if I am and always will.’
‘We grew up as sisters and will forever be so in our hearts if not by birth,’ Merryn agreed, hugging her too.
He gave them both a beaming smile. ‘I’m so glad to hear that. Oh, and the house I bought for Queenie in Plymouth belongs to you both forever and a day, my loves.’
He kindly urged them to stay for a couple of nights, taking them for lovely walks along the beach and the woods, Shep trotting everywhere with them. He drove them out in his Humber to visit Nairn, the local golf course, Inverness and many pretty villages in the area, fed them well and happily applauded the songs they sang for him. He was a most caring and accommodating man, the kind of father Cecily had always longed for. What a delight it was to feel that she’d found him at last. And even Merryn looked quite content, even though she was not related to him. They had finally resolved the puzzle in their lives.
On their first evening, Boyd took Cecily out for a walk along the beach, where he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with passion. ‘This news is something I’ve been dreaming of but had little hope would happen. Thank heaven you are not my half-sister. I love you so much, darling.’ Then sinking down upon one knee, he asked her to marry him. ‘I know you claimed that you had no wish to fall for a man ever again, but you have made it clear that you do love me. I’m so relieved to know that. We’re more than a professional team. We belong together, my darling, and ever will.’
‘Oh, yes, I do love you,’ she happily told him, excitement within her. ‘I gladly accept your proposal. Thank heaven we have learned the truth from this man that we are not related. How wonderful he is, behaving like a father to us all. And how wonderful you are too.’ Flinging herself into Boyd’s arms, she experienced the thrill of his loving embrace. The deep emotion she felt for him pounded in her heart.
When they left, Lord Stanford assured them they could visit him any time they wished, and he promised to visit them too. ‘I consider you both to be my daughters if that is all right by you, dear girls.’
‘It certainly is,’ Cecily declared.
Merryn said, ‘If I can be your adopted daughter, that would be lovely too.’
‘We are most definitely a family,’ he said, giving each of them a kiss on their cheeks. ‘What a treat that is for me.’
A month later, following their wedding, Cecily and Boyd gave a performance on the Pier, Merryn and Nan sitting happily in the audience with Josette. Cecily had written to Lena to give her latest news and was delighted when she came to visit and watch their performance. Lieutenant Trevain, the officer who had granted them the necessary permission to go to France, also attended, including several of the ex-soldiers they’d entertained over the years, and many whom Lena and Cecily had helped to escape. The performance went remarkably well. Cecily sang some of her own songs plus the ones they’d performed on the cruises. Towards the end, she invited her sister to join them on stage and Merryn smilingly came to play her piano accordion while Cecily sang a few of her favourite war songs: ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’ and ‘Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag’, which also went down well, the audience joining in to sing the chorus with her. When the show was over, they gave a standing ovation, cheering and applauding her with great admiration, many tossing bouquets and roses on to the stage.
Afterwards, Cecily held a party at their home on Grand Parade to celebrate seeing these old friends and their recent wedding. Life suddenly felt perfect, her sister free of the misery she’d been through and happily content with her child. And Cecily had amazingly found a wonderful man to love and marry. What could be better than that?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The inspiration for this book came from the pleasure my husband and I enjoyed with amateur dramatics and musical theatre for many years. It was always great fun and so satisfying. The idea of how girls were keen to entertain troops in the Great War greatly intrigued me. Members of my family in the past were involved in World War One. How brave they must have been. Some sadly did not survive. I love to write historical romance and always enjoy the research, the timing of which I sometimes adapt slightly to suit the story. Here is the interesting list of books I read to get the feel of the era:
British Music Hall: An Illustrated History – Richard Anthony Baker.
The Odd Women – George Gissing.
Modern Troubadours, a Record of Concerts at the Front – Lena Ashwell.
Lady Under Fire on the Western Front: The Great War letters of Lady Dorothie Fielding MM 1914–1917
Kate Parry Frye: The Long Life of an Edwardian Actress and Suffragette – Elizabeth Crawford.
Dr. Elsie Inglis – Lady Frances Balfour.
Singled Out – Virginia Nicholson.
Fighting on the Home Front – Kate Adie.
The Great Silence – 1918–1920 – Living in the Shadow of the Great War – Juliet Nicolson.
Johnny Get Your Gun – A Personal Narrative of the Somme, Ypres and Arras – John F. Tucker.
A Woman’s Place – 1910–1975 – Ruth Adam.
My thanks to Klaus Doerr, a German friend who provid
ed the necessary sentences in his language. I am most grateful for his support. I also appreciate the excellent Amazon Lake Union team and my editor, Victoria Pepe. My wonderful agent, Amanda Preston of the LBA Agency, for her faith in me. Thanks always to my husband, David, who as well as keeping me well fed and cared for when I’m busy writing, helps with proofing and other administrative tasks. I would also like to thank all my readers for their kind messages and reviews telling me how much they enjoy my books.
Kind regards,
Freda
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2014 by Roger Moore
Sunday Times bestselling author Freda Lightfoot hails from Oswaldtwistle, a small mill town in Lancashire. Her mother comes from generations of weavers, and her father was a shoe-repairer; she still remembers the first pair of clogs he made for her.
After several years of teaching, Freda opened a bookshop in Kendal, Cumbria. And while living in the rural Lakeland Fells, rearing sheep and hens and making jam, Freda turned to writing. She wrote over fifty articles and short stories for magazines such as My Weekly and Woman’s Realm, before finding her vocation as a novelist. She has since written over forty-eight novels, mostly sagas and historical fiction. She now spends warm winters living in Spain on the hills above the Mediterranean, and the rainy summers in Britain.
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