by Kelly Boyce
“I cannot ask you to put yourself in such a position.”
“You are not asking. Promise me you will do nothing until I speak with Mr. Bowen.”
Lord Selward inclined his head. “Very well then.”
“Could you see me home, please?” She had no desire to spend any more time in his company today. His threats against Marcus frightened her and she needed to get to the bottom of things before Marcus’s search for his past ruined him beyond repair.
Chapter Fifteen
January 1st
How easily he had led me away—a lamb to the slaughter. And I, the consummate fool, traipsed along after him as if safety was my due and nothing bad could ever happen. Until it did. And even then I was certain it could not be happening, as if part of my mind had separated from the act itself and went far away to debate the issue, to convince the rest of me the pain and horror was not real. Except that it was and all the debate and denial in the world could not change that. And in the end, all that was left was shame.
But shame will not claim me now. I feel you move about, anxious to make your debut and I will not allow shame to touch you, not while it is within my power to do so.
* * *
Rebecca waited anxiously for Nancy’s mother, Mrs. Faraday, to arrive for her weekly visit. The visit lasted only long enough for mother and daughter to have tea before they both returned to their duties, and Rebecca loathed to rob them of their time together, but her discussion with Lord Selward the day before struck fear deep into her core. Marcus walked a very precarious line between what would be tolerated by the peerage and what would not. If Lord Selward, or his father, decided to make an issue over the matter of the watch and Marcus’s refusal to return it, it could cause grievous problems, the worst of which would see him arrested.
But if Marcus had set his mind to discovering the truth of his birth, he would do what he must to achieve that end. For all his steadiness and respectability, he was not a man who backed down. Nicholas had once told her it was that strength of character more than any other that had made Marcus so successful.
Unfortunately, it may become the same thing that caused his ruin.
Perhaps if she learned something of import with respect to his parentage, she could convince him to give up the watch. He had met a dead end with Lady Ellesmere, but as Lord Selward had taken her home and assisted Nancy down from the carriage upon their arrival, it dawned on Rebecca that Mrs. Faraday had been in the Kingsley’s employ for well on forty years. Perhaps she could shed some light on the mystery. The question remained, however, would Mrs. Faraday breach the confidence of Lord and Lady Ellesmere, even for the sake of Marcus’s safety?
Rebecca wiped the palms of her hands against the deep navy of her dress and fixed a smile on her face as the door to their housekeeper’s small office opened and Mrs. Faraday and Nancy stepped into the room.
Mrs. Faraday stopped short her eyebrows lifting high. “Oh, my lady! I’m sorry. Have we disturbed you?”
Rebecca stood and rushed forward, which only took two steps given the tiny dimensions of the room. Honestly, how did Mrs. Robinson spend any time in here? “No, not at all, Mrs. Faraday. In fact, I asked Nancy if she would mind if I stole you away for a few moments to assist me in a rather delicate matter. Would you mind?”
Mrs. Faraday’s gaze shifted from Rebecca to her daughter, a confused look replacing her jolly expression. “Oh, well, yes, I suppose.”
“I’ll leave the two of you in privacy,” Nancy said, dropping a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchens when you’re done, mum.”
Rebecca waited for Nancy’s departure, the door closing firmly behind her, before she waved a hand toward the small table and it’s two chairs. Mrs. Faraday waited for Rebecca to be seated before taking her own.
“I mus’ confess, my lady, I’m quite curious as to what it is ye think I can ’elp you with.”
Rebecca worried her hands. Where was the best place to start? She did not want to give Marcus’s secrets away, but at the same time, it was not inconceivable Mrs. Faraday had knowledge of what had happened at Braemore. The servants always knew as much, if not more, than those who lived above stairs.
She took a deep breath and jumped in. “It involves Mr. Bowen.”
Mrs. Faraday’s eyebrows lifted once more until they disappeared beneath the frizzy red bangs poking out from beneath her cap, but she said nothing, her silence encouraging Rebecca to continue.
“You see, Mr. Bowen received information a fortnight ago that has proven rather distressing to him and in trying to uncover the truth behind it, he may have put himself in a bit of a pickle, as it were. My fear is if he continues along this path, he may find himself in a very precarious position. I had hoped, if I share with you what I know, you may be able to alleviate some of mystery surrounding the situation and help me prevent Mr. Bowen from landing himself in gaol.”
Mrs. Faraday gasped and a hand flew to her neck. “Gaol?”
Rebecca nodded. “Yes. Would you mind terribly if I asked you some questions?”
The older woman shook her head, the fingers at her neck twitching in distress. The housekeeper had a large brood of children of her own, but she had never failed to treat Huntsleigh and Marcus as part of it, giving them the same love and attention she had doled out to her own children. But would this love be strong enough to loosen Mrs. Faraday’s tongue?
“Before I begin, I must ask for your absolute discretion on what I am about to say, and please know anything you tell me will be treated with the same.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her hand dropped to her lap.
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Mr. Bowen received a package from Cornwall. Within the contents of this package was a letter from Mary Bowen indicating she was not the woman who had given birth to him.” She stopped and watched for a change in Mrs. Faraday’s expression at the news. There was none. “You knew.”
Mrs. Faraday nodded but said nothing more.
Hope exploded in Rebecca’s breast and she forged on. “This same package also contained an old watch and a journal.”
Mrs. Faraday’s gaze sharpened, but again, she remained silent.
“The watch has a crest etched on its outer cover. He has identified it as the Walkerton crest and a former steward, Mr. Cosgrove, has confirmed this and also indicated the watch was reportedly stolen from the current Lord Walkerton many years ago.”
“Mr. Cosgrove?”
“Do you know him?”
“Oh yes, yes. Lovely man. Didn’t deserve wha’ ’appened to him, he didn’t.”
“Then you will be pleased to know Mr. Bowen agreed with you on that account and has offered Mr. Cosgrove employment.”
Mrs. Faraday smiled. “Such a good boy, he is. Always such a good boy.”
“Yes, he is. Which is why I hope you can help keep him from harm.”
She shook her head. “I’m not certain what you wish me to do?”
Rebecca spread her fingers wide against her skirts and forged on. “Having discovered the Bowens were not his true parents, Mr. Bowen is determined to discover who is. He is quite adamant about this and refuses to be dissuaded. He spoke with Lord Selward about the watch at which point, Lord Selward demanded he return the stolen watch or suffer the consequences. Mr. Bowen refused and Lord Selward has now indicated to me he plans to speak to Lord Ellesmere about the matter and if that does not result in the watch being returned, he will speak with the authorities.”
Mrs. Faraday’s hand flew to her throat once again and her ruddy skin paled considerably. “Dear ’eaven! He mustn’t!”
Rebecca reached out a comforting hand to rest upon the one that remained in Mrs. Faraday’s lap. “I have managed to convince Lord Selward not to take action until I speak with Mr. Bowen. But my fear is that he will not return the watch as he feels this is his only connection to discovering who his father is. I thought, perhaps you could tell me—”
“I do not know.” The words came out quic
kly and the hope Rebecca harbored in her heart died a sudden death.
“But—”
Mrs. Faraday held out a hand to stay Rebecca’s tongue. “I knew Mary Bowen when she was still jus’ Mary Filmore. She was a lovely lady, a ’ard worker and as good a person as the day was long. She ’ad a sickness when she was young though, made it so she couldn’t ’ave babies. She ’ad come to London to work ’ere but dearly missed Cornwall an’ when the time came an’ Lady Ellesmere needed a new ’ousekeeper for Braemore, she sent Mary ’ome. When I ’eard Mary ’ad a baby…” Mrs. Faraday shrugged. “It couldn’t be ’er own.”
Rebecca’s heart banged against her ribs. “Do you know whose it was?”
“I ’ave a suspicion, but it is nothin’ more than that, an’ I will not ruin a lady by sayin’ so when I cannot say for certain.”
Rebecca gripped the housekeeper’s hand tighter. “But Mrs. Faraday—”
She shook her head. “No. I cannot. There is much more at stake than what you know. I wish I could ’elp you more. But you can tell Mr. Bowen this—the watch belongs to the man whose seed fathered him—forgive my bluntness, my lady.”
“Think nothing of it.” She cared little about bluntness at the moment and more about the fact Marcus and Lord Selward shared the same blood. What did this mean for Marcus, if anything? And what did it mean for her and her plans for the future? She pursed her lips and forced back her fears. For now.
“You must convince ’im to return the watch. Lord Walkerton will not hesitate to ruin Mr. Bowen if that is wha’ it comes to. Mark my word on that.” She hesitated, then asked, “The journal. Is there any indication as to who it belonged to?”
Rebecca released Mrs. Faraday’s hand and leaned back in her chair. “No, though Mr. Bowen indicated it was written by the woman who gave birth to him.”
Relief washed over Mrs. Faraday’s expression, though whether it was from the knowledge Marcus knew the journal belonged to his mother or the fact he did not know the lady’s identity, she could not say.
“I wish I could be more help.”
Rebecca stood, disappointed she had not learned more, but perhaps being able to confirm the identity of his father would appease Marcus to a large degree and allow him enough peace of mind to return the watch before calamity struck.
“Thank you, Mrs. Faraday. I appreciate your assistance, and your confidence in this regard. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please send word.”
“I will, m’ lady.”
Rebecca nodded. “May I request another favor?”
“Of course, m’ lady.”
Rebecca reached into the pocket of her dress and handed a note she had written prior to their meeting. “Would you see this delivered to Mr. Bowen?”
Mrs. Faraday glanced at the sealed letter then up at Rebecca.
“I know it is highly improper to send such a correspondence, but I must speak to him with all do haste.”
The housekeeper reached out and took the letter, slipping it into her reticule and nodding. “Very well, m’ lady. I will see he gets it.”
* * *
Rebecca stared at her reflection in the mirror. Nancy had outdone herself, wrangling Rebecca’s thick locks high atop her head into an open silver netting that allowed the ebony waves to cascade over her shoulders. Her dress, rather than being the usual plain white silk most ladies wore when masquerading as one of the Grecian goddesses, had been threaded throughout with silver, and shimmered as if moonlight touched her wherever she went. The masque, which she had yet to don, sparkled with a darker grey hue that, when held against her face, made her eyes an almost translucent silver and her lips a deep rose.
“You are a vision, my dear,” her mother said standing in the open doorway of Rebecca’s bedchamber.
“Am I?” She tilted her head to one side, her fingers pulling at a lock of hair that curled over her breast. She supposed her mother was right. Rebecca had never been so blind as to not be aware of her beauty, but she still hesitated to give it the same level of importance others did. Though, even as the thought slipped through her mind, she thought her own mother’s beauty would make Aphrodite herself weep with envy.
Mother came into the room and stood behind her, placing her hands on Rebecca’s shoulders. “I have some news.”
“News?” Rebecca turned to face her mother.
Mother ushered her over to her bed and motioned for her to sit next to her. “When Lord Selward heard Nicholas was set to arrive tomorrow to escort us to Sheridan Park, he sent word he would like to speak with him. That, coupled with the rumors Selward plans on making an offer this Season can only mean one thing—your efforts were successful.”
Rebecca’s stomach turned sour. “He wants to speak with Nicholas?”
Mother’s clear gaze roamed over Rebecca’s face. She tried to force a smile, but instead her lips trembled with the effort and she pulled them in and held them in her teeth. This was wrong, it was all so terribly wrong, and yet…what choice did she have? In the day since speaking with Mrs. Faraday, the thought had struck her that, should Marcus refuse to return the watch, perhaps the only alternative she had to keep him safe from Lord Walkerton would be to marry his son and use her influence in that regard. But would it be enough?
“You are not happy? I thought this is what you wanted?”
Rebecca nodded, still holding her lips with her teeth until they hurt from the effort. She feared speaking, afraid nothing would come out of her but the wail that built in her breast. Everything she had worked for had come to fruition and brought with it the leaden realization of how very much she did not want it. And how very, very much she wanted someone else. Her heart fully and completely belonged to another man. A man she could not have. A man she would save no matter the cost.
Mother sat quietly for a moment then reached out, wrapping her fingers around Rebecca’s fisted hand. “You do not love him, do you?” Rebecca didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Somehow, Mother understood her heart, in that strange way mothers had.
“I—” It was all she managed before her voice cracked and her throat choked with unspent tears. She could not tell her mother the truth. It changed nothing. If she did not marry Lord Selward, she would lose everything. Mother would watch her late husband’s mistress inherit her past, and Marcus…Marcus could lose his freedom.
Mother’s hand squeezed tighter. “When I was about your age, I loved a man. Quite an unsuitable man according to my parents—well, everybody really, but I cared little. He was handsome and charming and when I was with him, it was as if the whole world had opened up to greet me. A world that, until I had met him, I didn’t even know existed.”
Rebecca had heard the arguments since early childhood, her Father’s accusations of infidelity, and his resentment of her. Of Nicholas. Their house had tasted of bitterness for as long as she could remember and for just as long something in her mother’s grey eyes spoke of sadness and regret.
The man Mother had loved was not Rebecca’s father. “What happened to him?”
“My father had already entered into a marriage contract with your father. It was an extremely advantageous match, one your grandfather desperately needed to make. Our family fortunes had dwindled with each passing generation. He could no longer afford the upkeep of many of the properties. In the end, the only thing of value he had left was his daughter. He bartered me and most of the unentailed properties to the highest bidder, and that bidder happened to be your father.”
“So you gave up the man you loved?”
“Not at first. In the beginning, I refused. I threatened to run off with him if they did not accept my choice. But I was young and naïve. When it came down to it, threats were made. I was told if I did not marry your father, the man I loved, and his family, would be forever ruined, and so what else could I do?”
Rebecca understood her mother’s dilemma with a clarity that broke her heart. She did not need to ask who made the threats. Her father had been a powerful man
from a powerful family. He did not brook disobedience or disloyalty. “Did you ever see him again, this man?”
“Briefly. But—” Mother stopped and looked away, past Rebecca to the window beyond, though she thought her gaze stretched even farther, seeing a past that was transposed over the one she had dreamed of. Would that be her fate as well? “But by then it was too late. Afterward, he went away, and I never saw him again.”
The tale did nothing to lift Rebecca’s spirits, to make her believe maybe there was another way. “Why did you tell me this?”
Mother’s gaze returned to her. “As a cautionary tale, I suppose. Choose with your heart, Rebecca. Not your head. I’m sure you have had a strategy this whole time, thinking you need to marry Lord Selward to keep the family properties from going to that woman. But I would never forgive myself if you consigned yourself to a marriage you did not want, a man you do not love, for the sake of brick and mortar, or land we rarely see. We will still have the original Blackbourne House and Sheridan Park. Nicholas will see that we do not go without. Do we really need more?”
Rebecca let her gaze drop to her lap. Despite the brave words, she did not believe her. It wasn’t brick and mortar Mother held onto. It was memories. Memories her mother deserved to keep. The only thing she had left. If Rebecca did not marry Lord Selward these would be gone. Given away as if they meant nothing. Her father’s final retaliation against a woman who did not love him, who had been forced into a life she hadn’t asked for or wanted. A life she chose to save the man she loved. Rebecca understood her mother’s choice and hoped she could show as much grace and courage when the time came to make her own choice.
“It is not too late for you, my dear. Your destiny remains open. We will survive. If you do not love Lord Selward, do not marry him. He is a nice man, I grant you, but his family—” She stopped and shook her head.
Rebecca’s head snapped up. “What of his family?”
Mother’s pretty mouth pulled into a grim line. “Let’s just say Lord Selward is the first heir to the Walkerton title who embodies the traits one wishes to see in a lord, but the rest of them…” She shook her head. “I would not regret for a moment if you were to disassociate yourself from his family.”