by Debra Brown
“He is, indeed, a scoundrel!”
“Had he but kindly told her that he was delayed, I could forgive him. She could have died with less affliction. But he told her that he had met another woman and wished to start a new life. In reality he had been previously engaged. That woman was Miss Grace Bellingham, a lifelong friend of Winnie’s, now The Lady Breyton. He simply did not care for the complications that this secret marriage to my mother had created, and certainly not the female issue of it, as a woman cannot inherit Tremeine‘s throne. He now felt free to go on about life as though it had never come to be. My mother did not wish him to know that she had stayed with the Duke and Duchess of Trent, as he might someday try to locate me through them, whatever designs he may have had. The Trents had lost all respect for Breyton and agreed to keep their involvement, and my location, a secret. They had, at first, wished to take me as their own child and to say that I had been born in Switzerland. The timing was perfect, and they would have done so if not for the question of the British throne.”
“To be sure! There was, at the time, no heir! A child of theirs would have received the attention of the world and would have been assumed to be the future queen. The Duke of Kent may not have married his princess, and a rightful heir may never have been conceived!”
“Yes, that is it exactly. It just could not be. Helena hid us for a short time, but was in fear that we would be hunted in London and found. Lady Holmeshire came out to take us to the country. Helena kept my mother’s belongings, such as this gown, here with her, so that I could not be identified by means of them. But before they left London, my mother began to fear even leaving me with nobles, where her father might look and even Breyton might wonder. She told Lady Holmeshire that she had decided to leave me with commoners before going up to Holmeshire Hall. She felt that they would not look in such a place for me. The lady recommended the Squire’s family, so that I would always be near her. She had always admired Mrs. Carrington’s goodness and genteel ways. That is when I was placed on the doorstep of their home, without telling the Carrington’s anything, in a plain basket with only a little blanket. It was a warm summer evening. She made one stop with me, though, first. She stopped at a small, ancient chapel on the south side of Holmeshire Village to pray for me. That chapel has, strangely, been a beloved place for all of my life!”
“How very interesting! It is almost as if you remember. And did your mother inform the family of your name? For His Grace has informed the crowd tonight that it was the King of Tremeine who has named you Emmanuel.”
“No, it was mere coincidence that the Carringtons named me Emma, which was the name of Mrs. Carrington’s grandmother! My mother left no note. After leaving me, no doubt with further injury to her poor heart, she was then taken up the hill to the home of the Earl of Holmeshire.” Emma removed a glove. “She left information about us, and this, her once treasured wedding ring, for me with Her Ladyship. She asked her to take me in when I was older and raise me as a servant in her household, until my grandfather’s death, for my protection. This is how I came to be a housemaid.”
“But your mother did, then, die?”
“Yes. She died at Holmeshire quite soon after leaving me down the hill. She had used the last of her strength to carry me to a place of safety and then to write me a letter, as loving mothers would do.”
“And are you safe, now?” Gabriel inquired.
“Thankfully, yes, my grandfather died recently. My uncle’s first act as king was to send out to try to find my mother and me, should we still be living. You see, he loved his sister, and he sent a message that her child would be as his own to him. Her sons and grandsons would be next to him and his son in line of succession to the throne. At least I know who my mother was, and who I am, now, and that I have a living family. That means ever so much more to me than being a princess. I am sure that you fully understand that sentiment.”
She looked inside, to where the Breytons were falling apart, and said unhappily, “And there, I’m afraid, is my father. Her Grace, Aunt Helena, and the Countess of Holmeshire felt so badly for Lady Breyton all these many years and were so unhappy with her husband, but they were forced to carry on as usual with him. King George IV was adamant, you see, that they make a marriage contract for their first children. How hard life can be.” Gabriel nodded his agreement.
Emma stopped talking for a moment and pulled a bronze coin from inside her glove to give to Gabe. “This coin bears a picture of my mother. I have two of these; one for myself and the other is for you; a remembrance.”
“It is beautiful! It could be you; you so resemble her! It is no wonder that Lord Breyton was so unfriendly toward you and so distressed when you arrived with the Queen. Thank you. I shall greatly treasure it, though I could never forget. I...I am so overcome by all this! Would that my adoption by the Princess of Wales had made me royal.”
“I am truly sorry, Mr. Hughes. I care for you a great deal and have the utmost regard for you, but this all makes it the more impossible. You must know, I could not accept this seeming tale at first. It was nearly impossible to believe, and I so hated sorting it all out. However, I was soon invited to Buckingham Palace, once I had heard of it all. The Queen offered me a place to stay, there with her, though I asked to be allowed to remain where I was. That assured me that it was, though, all quite true.”
“And will you go to your uncle?”
“I will go there as soon as I possibly can, perchance next summer, as I have people here to meet with, and things here to accomplish. I dearly wish to meet my uncle, though, and thank him for having sought for me. He must be grieving my mother’s death, so long ago. Perhaps I will stay there for some time to give him consolation, and as I do have a nation waiting for me. I hope, at least until then, to stay with Lady Holmeshire.”
“And thus, I came to know a Princess of Tremeine. My dear Emma. The greatest hope of my life, with the saddest ending for me.” The patience of Wills and the crowd that wished to steal Emma away was ending.
“I am so sorry, my dear Mr. Hughes. Life is sadly, for all of us, so bittersweet.”
They stood up; he kissed her hand, and they slowly parted, with him holding her hand as he bowed and backed away from her. She followed him to the ballroom floors. Gabriel bowed to the Queen, thanked Genevieve, excused himself and escaped the company of happier people.
Lady Embry had developed pneumonia suddenly and went home, maintaining enough strength to drag her chagrined husband along by the sleeve. Although poor Lady Breyton tried to sustain some composure, she could not stay on her feet for more than a few moments at a time. The Lord Breyton busied himself with keeping her fanned and watered and her hands patted. He found himself staring, lost in thought, at his royal daughter, which did not help the situation with his wife. She finally gave up her struggle, begged for a reprieve and was carried out in her husband’s arms. Winnie followed to tend to her grieving friend and comfort her.
Emma felt much more comfortable with Breyton gone for the evening. As Genny said, they could talk to this Papa of theirs together later.
Emma had been sensitive to Grace’s feelings in the matter of its all being exposed at the Ball. The Duke, however, had felt such indignation at the man for his treacherous behavior, and at all the poor treatment of Emma by many of his friends in the past, that it had to be handled just so. In fact, His Grace had continued his relationship with such a man just for such a moment, he had said! Had the Lady Breyton been more inclined to appreciate her friendship with his sister-in-law, he might have reconsidered, but her efforts to appease “the Embry” instead left him with less mercy to his credit.
The Duke was pleased; Breyton was finally exposed before all the right people, including the Queen herself. Perhaps he would now become more merciful to others who were less than perfect? And Emmanuel of Tremeine was finally introduced and would take her place in society, without ever a formal debut. Those who had forbidden Emma at their dinner parties were sorely shamed, and Winnie’s
persistence was vindicated.
~Chapter 11~
Wherein Everything, At Last, Comes Together
The Season had ended; Parliament had sat and was back on its feet. The Queen had sent condolences to the nation of Tremeine, but had declined sending a representative to the funeral of the late King.
A few days after the Midsummer Night’s Dream Ball, coaches and carriages began traveling out from London in every direction. They carried wealthy people, exhausted from The Season, but eager to return to their country homes to prepare for the hunting parties.
One of them headed toward the Holmeshire moors and pasture grounds carrying a Princess and those who most loved her. She brought along her sister so they could come to know each other better, making up for lost years.
Another coach followed with Gwyndolyn, Elizabeth and Miss Adelina Darivela. Miss Darivela, it was finally revealed, had been the lady’s maid and dear friend of the late Princess Emmanuel of Tremeine. She had remained those many years working in the household of the Duke of Trent, waiting for little Emma to grow up and come into her position. Grateful to finally be out of hiding, she now rode along to Holmeshire to serve as the lady’s maid for Emma. Master Nicholas did best during the journey by shifting from one coach to the next and even riding atop with the coachmen at times. The Queen had sent soldiers on horseback alongside as escorts, for the protection of Emmanuel, at the request of her uncle.
***
“Ah, the countryside again,” sighed a relieved Winnie.
“Ah, the country air again! It can be breathed!” Wills exalted.
Genevieve quoted her beloved Shakespeare,
“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
“Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
“Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
“With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
“How wonderful it is to finally be going to lovely Holmeshire again,” she added. “It is perfect in the summer.”
“How wonderful to have someone to entertain us along the way!” laughed Emma, remembering her prior travels alone. She sat and reflected and said, “How many things have happened since I rode this way before! Just eight months, it has been. I never dreamed it…I could never even have imagined all this.”
“I was certainly stunned at the ball,” Wills stated, pulling sandwiches from a basket. “Mother never let on to me. Not a word. All those years, growing up, I never knew. The night of the ball, I was worried; she was not riding with us. Mummy just said that she had another ride. I supposed it was some lady or another. But here I was at the ball, the Queen was soon to arrive and no Emma was to be seen! One cannot enter once the Queen has arrived, you know. Then in she walks with the Queen! And dressed as if she were to be the center of everyone’s attentions! It made no sense at all in my mind. I supposed she would go to the gallows.”
“Your Ladyship should have engaged Lord Holmeshire to Her Highness at age four, knowing what you knew!” exclaimed Genevieve, to much laughter. “Instead of such a rebel as I have proven to be!”
Emma took on a pompous bearing and proclaimed, “We would like to announce the engagement of Wilfred, Little Lord Holmeshire, to Miss Emma Carrington, Foundling Ward of the local Squire. She has no money to bring into the marriage, but does possess a very fine white blanket.” She popped her thumb in her mouth and looked very innocent.
“Imagine! All those years, Mama kept quiet and she worked poor Emma like a slave!”
“I could not talk about it,” Winnie responded. “Should word have gotten out, our Emma could have been killed! As for the work, it was the best of cover-ups. No one could have guessed.”
“You were right; no one suspected in the least! Your cruelty has saved me!” Emma laughed. “And working enabled me to feel the oppressive plight of the working classes, which has blessed me with the virtue of empathy,” Emma admitted. She rubbed her knees and moaned. “I remember scrubbing a floor at the Squire’s house; he would track it up and be angry with me over it! I surely know what servants endure and most surely will speak up for them!”
“James, Duke of Trent, did have a few encounters with men who he suspects were searching for the late princess and her child.” Winnie’s anguish was on full display. “At one ball, only a year ago, the ambassador from Tremeine walked about studying the faces of young men and women. James was glad to see that he was looking at men; it seems to have meant that they had not even learned of the baby’s gender! James overheard him asking who a young lady’s parents were; he turned and asked him if he should be looking to replace his wife! That seemed to slow him down for a time, and of course he was recalled to retirement, at home, when His Majesty, King Julian, ascended. I also heard of a man who was asking a number of questions about the Breytons. Genny, you yourself were under suspicion of being the daughter of the late Emmanuel. I was very worried for you, that you might be in danger. For this I cannot forgive your father.”
Genny threw her hands up. “Oh, ma’am! I now understand some of the frightful mysteries of my life! I know that I have been followed for quite some time! I was very alarmed and asked Father for protection. Perhaps you understand, now, why there were always extra footmen along wherever I went. Mother was terrified for me, and neither of us could make the least sense of it.”
It was dawning upon all aboard the swaying coach what a great reprieve had been granted with the new King’s coming to the throne of Tremeine. It was no wonder that he had immediately searched for the two and, having discovered Emma, requested protection for her. She sighed with relief for Genevieve and herself and took Genny’s hand.
***
There was much excitement at the Holmeshire Village Inn. People were rejoicing, laughing and buying each other ale. Charles looked confused, sitting at a table over a hearty plate of mutton and bread, wondering what was being celebrated. Lucy was busy cleaning tables and bringing plates and bowls of soup to exuberant villagers, but finally she stopped and asked what all the fuss was about. “Our Emma!” she was told, “Our Emma is a princess from Tremeine!” “The Squire never even knew of it!” “Where’s Tremeine?” “There was a long article in the London newspaper yesterday!” “She is on her way here now!”
Lucy looked quickly over at Charles, astonished. He shot up from the table! “Paw needs ta know. I gotta find Paw,” he blurted as he blasted out the door, knocking his meal down and leaving it behind, cascading to the floor. He made a beeline for the noisy pub across the way, where Benedict had also just gotten wind of the news. “Paw!”
“Charles!”
“You heard? You heard about Emma? What do we do?” Charles was beside himself.
“I do not know! What do we do? I gotta think here.” It was hard to think when he could not stand up for as long as it takes to snatch a money bag.
“We gotta get a message to your solicitor, Paw. Maybe he can tell us what ta do. This could make us very, very rich!”
“Now you’re getting it, boy! What took you so long? Find my walking stick. Where’d I put it?”
People bustled around them, clanging their mugs and spilling ale, celebrating and yelling, “Our little Emma! A princess!” The Squire had been hurried into town by raucous, cheering men, and they picked him up and rode him around on their shoulders. He was cheering loudly about “his darling daughter” and singing, unconstrained, as if it was all his own doing. This had to be, of course, the reason Lady Holmeshire had so determinedly taken her away from him and her “deeply saddened sisters!”
Gradually, it began to dawn on the men that they needed to hurry home and get their wives and children cleaned, combed and dressed in their Sunday best to welcome their very own princess back to town. Charles tried to stop people, pushing himself into their paths, to ask them for advice about sending a message to London, but they hurried around him, still cheering and rejoicing, and hardly felt his hand grab at their shoulders. Finally, only the pub keeper remained, and he hustled them out of the buildi
ng to lock it up.
“How do we get a message to London fast?” Charles begged of him outside the door.
“Go down and send a telegram,” he called back to them as he ran off, down a narrow lane, to his home.
“Telegram, Paw? What’s a telegram?”
“I do not know, Son, must be something they only have in Holmeshire.”
***
Lady Embry, in her floral-papered boudoir, was refusing visitors, sending down messages that she was quite stricken with colic, typhus or pneumonia. She could never remember what she had informed the last caller. Under the influence of a bit of laudanum, she sent out letters stating that she believed that she had heard that Tremeine was not a Christian nation, and that there was some doubt as to the authenticity of the claim of Emma’s family to the throne.
That was before it came out in the newspapers that the Queen’s father, the Duke of Kent, had been close friends with the King of Tremeine’s grandfather, and that the current king regularly visited and went hunting with King Leopold of Belgium, the widower of Charlotte of Wales. Lady Breyton was not replying to her notes about how deceitful Winifred of Holmeshire had been, and how she had chosen to humiliate her friends rather than to just tell the truth about the girl in the first place!
Grace was depressed; she had abandoned her lifelong friend, Winnie, and listened to all the wrong people. Winnie had warned her about the man, had she not? And how it humiliated her that she had prohibited Emma from attending the ball as a common servant girl! How was she to face Emma, or even Genevieve?
But things were certainly worse for the Marquess. A man with such a reputation as his now was could expect to be avoided by many in polite society. His wife was in shambles, and she asked him repeated questions. How could her fiancé have married another woman and never even mentioned it, Lady Breyton queried. How could he have heartlessly turned away his own motherless child?
She was now much more pained by his anger at the birth of Genevieve, a daughter, and that he was enraged at her and her doctors when they had said that she was to have no more children. As if he had been the perfect husband! Lady Breyton formed an opinion. The Marquess became unwelcome on the upper floors, and it would be quite some time before that was to change.