Voices of Shadows Past: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 3

by Jennifer Monroe

  She took a deep breath and ran her hand over the tiny mound under her dress as she peered through the bedroom window. Her eyes soaked in the rolling green hills that stretched far across the horizon. All the land, for as far as eyes could see, belonged to her family, and she loved every bit of it.

  Raising a glass to her lips, she took a large gulp of wine. Her consumption of the beverage began earlier each day, but she had no other way to bring relief from the numbness that plagued her. And it mattered not that the wine increased rather than diminished it.

  “My lady,” Anne, her lady’s maid, said as she entered the room, “I must speak with you.”

  Eleanor took another sip of her wine and placed the glass on a table before turning to smile at the woman who had also become a close friend and confidante. The woman always wore a bright smile, and with her raven black hair and brown eyes, she was strikingly beautiful. However, it was the bond of friendship that had formed between the two that brought Eleanor comfort when she sought it. An ear to hear and shoulder on which to cry.

  “What is it?”

  Anne worried her bottom lip. “I’m worried about you.”

  Eleanor clenched her jaw. Confidante Anne might be, but she had no right to overstep her bounds. “I do not need your worry,” Eleanor said curtly. “You may leave now.” She picked up and drained the glass of wine before grabbing the opened bottle and pouring a new glass.

  “You’re my employer,” Anne said, “but you’re also my friend, and I’m worried. You spend your days drinking away your hurt, and I can’t stand by and see you suffer anymore.”

  Eleanor turned. “Do you believe I will not send you away?” she demanded, although it hurt her to speak to the only person who would listen to her woes. “I do not wish to listen to you explain to me how I am feeling, for no one knows the pain I endure…” She wiped away the traitorous tears that escaped her eyes and belied her words.

  Anne took the glass from her, set it on the table and took Eleanor’s hands in hers. “When Lord Lambert returns, what will you do? The padding under your dress might fool the servants, but it won’t fool him.”

  “Do you not think I know this?” Eleanor said in a sharp whisper. “My husband has left me with child, and now that I have lost it…” She shook her head. “It is as though a piece of me was lost, as well. It killed me inside, and no one knows my pain!” No matter what she did, the pain did not subside, and she wanted nothing more than the numbness to return.

  “I may not know your pain” Anne whispered, “but I have my own painful news to share.”

  Eleanor wiped at her eyes. She was being selfish; Anne had always been there for her whenever she needed her. “What is it?”

  Anne took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach. “I am with child.”

  With wide eyes, Eleanor studied the lady’s maid. She was thicker around her middle! She had been so caught up in her loss that she never took notice that the woman who was typically as thin as a stick had grown at least an entire dress size.

  “How long?”

  “Maybe a week or so longer than you, my lady.” She turned a deep crimson and looked down at the floor.

  “And the father?”

  Anne looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “Robert, the gardener.” The tears she had been holding back dripped down her face. “He wooed me with promises of marriage, and I believed him. Then he convinced me that I should give him my savings so we could buy a home together. However, when I told him I was with child…he left.”

  Eleanor pulled the woman into her arms and held her tight. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “So, that is why he left?”

  Anne nodded, and Eleanor recalled the man giving his notice, but until now she did not know why.

  “He told Lord Lambert that his mother was ill, and he told me not to tell anyone, not even you, but that was over a month ago.” She shook her head, her face filled with despondency. “Now I’m without money and burdened with a child I cannot look after.”

  Eleanor understood the maid’s concern. When Charles learned that she was carrying a child, he would throw her out immediately, spouting concerns for being burdened with the results of a woman with loose morals.

  The truth was the woman would never survive in the world with a bastard child. She would gain no employment in such a condition, and with no money, she would have no means on which to live.

  “But you can.”

  Eleanor stared at the woman. “What do you mean?”

  “I cannot provide for this child,” Anne said, looking down at her stomach. “But you need a child to make your husband happy and to heal the hole in your heart with the loss of your own.”

  Eleanor closed her eyes. The pain of losing her child had led to many sleepless nights and to her drinking as heavily as a village drunk. “Charles would never allow it,” she said finally. “Society would…”

  “Never know. You can keep up your ruse, and I will leave today to somewhere safe. When the time grows near, make an excuse to leave.”

  The idea was tempting. “I…do not know.”

  “This child is a gift. One I cannot support, but you can. It is a gift from my heart that can heal yours.”

  Eleanor nodded, the thought of gaining her lost child more appealing with each passing moment. “You could never tell a soul. If Robert were to return and find you with no child…”

  “He will not ever hear it from me,” Anne insisted. “It is your child, if you will have it.”

  It was a risky endeavor, and Eleanor knew that if Charles or anyone were to learn of it, the lives of the child and Eleanor’s other daughters would be ruined. However, God’s hand had to be in this, for He had sent her a replacement child. “I will do this,” she said with finality before wrapping her arms around the woman. “I promise I will love the child as my own.”

  “I have no doubt you will, my lady,” Anne replied. “I ask just one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “In the years to come, if the time ever arises, let the child know that I loved him or her and that I only wanted what was best.”

  Eleanor smiled. “I promise,” she whispered. “Tonight, you will leave for a cottage we have on our property that is currently not in use. You will be safe there, for no one ventures there.”

  “I will collect my things,” Anne said with another embrace and then a quick curtsy.

  After the woman left the room, Eleanor returned to the table where she had placed her glass. Her heart had been filled with pain with the death of her child, but for the first time in a month, that pain began to subside, and it had not been wine that had brought her relief.

  ***

  The cottage sat alone amongst a thick covering of trees as Eleanor stepped from the carriage. Her usual driver had not been used on this journey, but rather it was the young butler, Forbes. He seemed much more trustworthy, and she was in no condition to take the carriage on her own, or so she appeared with the large pillow under her dress.

  A gentle breeze blew Eleanor’s hair as Forbes closed the door of the carriage. Besides Anne, who was inside the cottage, only the butler knew her identity, and it was of the utmost importance that she had his trust. Not even the midwife knew who she was.

  “This journey to my mother’s,” Eleanor said, holding her hand against the padded bulge, “is of no concern to anyone except my husband. And the stop at this home…”

  “Is none of my concern,” Forbes replied. “I know of many ladies who often visit cousins and other relatives, and some do not have the same means as they.” The butler dipped his head. “In fact, I do not recall even stopping anywhere save your mother’s house.”

  Relieved, Eleanor nodded and turned to walk toward the cottage when the door burst open and a girl of perhaps ten rushed outside.

  “Miss! It’s happenin’”

  Eleanor hurried down the path and she heard Anne’s groans from outside. The butler was no fool, and she hoped he would ask no questions. All she could do
was trust him.

  The cottage had a small kitchen, a sitting room, and two small bedrooms. Why Charles bought the place, she did not know, nor did she care. Her only concern at the moment was the woman hunched over the splayed legs of the woman who had once been her lady’s maid.

  “You are here,” Anne said, sweat dripping from her brow and her breathing heavy.

  Eleanor rushed to the woman’s side and took her hand. “I am.”

  “I am so glad you came.” Anne leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes.

  “You knew I would,” Eleanor said with a smile.

  Anne gripped her hand with a sudden gasp. Soon, Eleanor was speaking encouraging words. She had birthed two girls already, so she knew what Anne was enduring, but it did not make it any easier to watch.

  “You are doing well,” Eleanor said.

  Anne cried out, held her breath, and then grunted. Then the most beautiful of things happened. The wail of a child filled the room, a sound that rang in Eleanor’s heart. The midwife placed the babe on Anne’s bare stomach, and Anne squeezed Eleanor’s hand.

  “You have done well,” Eleanor whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Anne’s forehead.

  “It is a girl,” the midwife said as she took the baby and washed her in warm water before swaddling her, her head full of dark hair the only part of the babe to be seen.

  Eleanor took the baby in her arms. “She is beautiful,” she said.

  When she looked up at Anne, the woman lay with her eyes closed. “She is,” Anne said. “And I know she’ll be happy and well-loved, and I couldn’t wish more for her.”

  With a smile, Eleanor began to rock the lively bundle, and the baby calmed. “She will be my daughter, treated as an equal to her older sisters. I promise she will find happiness in life.”

  Anne gave her a weak smile. “I have no doubt you’ll make her very happy.”

  The woman could not have said anything truer. Eleanor already loved the child as if she was her own. “Her name is Juliet, and I will do everything I can for her.” She took Anne’s hand. “You have given me the most wondrous of gifts, and I will never forget you for it.” She handed her a purse. “This is everything I have saved.” When Anne attempted to push the purse away, Eleanor gave the maid a firm glare. “No, you must take it. You will need money until you find a new position. I wish you would come back to Scarlett Hall, but I understand how difficult that would be for you.”

  “I don’t know where I’ll go next, but this will help. Thank you.”

  Eleanor remained at Anne’s side, the bond between them bringing them that much closer, until the hour grew late and Anne glanced toward the window. “You should go; it won’t be safe if you travel after dark.” She grabbed Eleanor’s hand. “I’ll never forget you.”

  With a firm squeeze of her hand, Eleanor replied, “And I shall never forget you, my dear friend.” She leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek before heading toward the door.

  Stopping with her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back and the two exchanged a smile, one that would remain in Eleanor’s heart forever, for she never saw her friend again.

  ***

  The days became weeks, the weeks became a month, and a letter arrived announcing that Charles was to arrive in three days.

  With Juliet cradled in her arms, Eleanor kissed the soft tuft of dark hair on her daughter’s head. “You are the most beautiful gift I have ever received,” she whispered. “And you will always have a special place in my heart.”

  Footsteps from the hallway made her look up. Charles entered the room, a wide grin on his face. “My child!” he exclaimed as he hurried to her side. He gave Eleanor a small kiss and knelt beside her, and her love for him grew. She pulled back the blanket so he could see the baby. “She has my hair color,” he said with pride. “And my eyes!”

  “She is her father’s child,” she replied. “Do you wish to hold her?”

  He nodded and took Juliet into his arms, the child gurgling with clear pleasure. “Juliet. Named after my mother,” he said. “This child is special; do you not feel it?”

  “Yes, she most certainly is,” Eleanor said as she pulled herself up from the chair to stand at his side. She placed a hand on his arm and gazed down at their daughter. “I know she has filled a special place in my heart.”

  And the words could not have been truer.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “That is why you have always had, and always will, have a special place in my heart.”

  Juliet stood in shock doing everything she could to comprehend what her mother had just revealed. Who was she? She was no longer the person she thought she was all her life, a woman of better blood, the child of title who came from an affluent lineage generations long.

  Now, however, she was the daughter of servants—a man who was once a gardener and a lady’s maid. She looked up at the woman she had called Mother all her life and could not find words to think let alone speak. All she felt was shame and humiliation. How could anyone love her now?

  Yet, the woman who birthed her, had she not had Juliet’s own interests at heart? Juliet would never have lived the life she had as the daughter of a woman of the working class. Where would she be now if her real mother had not made such a decision?

  “I know this is overwhelming to hear, but you must understand that you are my daughter. Nothing will ever change that.”

  With surprise, Juliet looked at her mother. “I…you still love me although I now know the truth?”

  Her mother responded by throwing her arms around Juliet. “My sweet child, I love you more than you will ever know. Although I am not the woman who gave birth to you, I hope you love me as your mother as I have loved you as if you were my own child.”

  Juliet sobbed into the woman’s shoulder. How could she consider this woman as someone other than her mother? “You are my mother, and I am thankful that you raised me. I hold no anger to my…birth mother. I understand why she did what she did.”

  Her mother held her at arm’s length. “She loved you, you know.”

  “What was she like?”

  Pushing back a strand of Juliet’s hair, she smiled. “She was beautiful, strong, and raging with a fire much like yours. It is from her you get your spiritedness.”

  Although a thousand questions swam in her mind, those concerning Robert rose to the top.

  “How did Robert,” she was not ready to think of him as her father, “learn of all this?”

  Her mother sighed. “The last time he was here, he explained that he found work two years ago, and Anne happened to be a lady’s maid there. She had fallen gravely ill, and it was on her deathbed that she revealed the truth.”

  “But why would she do that? She had promised!”

  “I do not know,” her mother replied. “She always saw the good in people, so perhaps she thought he had a change of heart. He may have manipulated her into believing so.”

  Juliet nodded, but anger rose to push down her shock. “So, this man came in search of his daughter, but rather than introducing himself to me, he used the information to blackmail you. He attempted to ruin not only you but my sisters, as well.”

  “Yes,” her mother replied. “I am afraid that is the truth of it. I wanted to protect you from him, for I knew how twisted the man’s lies could be.”

  Juliet studied the woman. Her mother was strong, a woman who rarely cried, at least not where others could witness it. Yet, her eyes were red and filled with tears, and Juliet knew much of her distress came from what that man had done to her—or at least attempted to do.

  “What will you do concerning him?” She would not use his name; he was unworthy of such courtesy!

  “I will continue to pay him. There is nothing more I can do.”

  Juliet walked over and poured them each a drink. Taking a long sip from her glass, her mind began to race. Her true father was alive, but the man had attempted to pit her against the woman she knew as her mother. The thought
of her mother suffering because of him made her anger turn into rage.

  “You cannot pay the man forever,” Juliet said finally. “His price will only increase until he has run you…run all of us…into the ground.”

  Her mother gave a contemptuous chuckle. “It already has caused us a considerable amount of trouble. The man is mad. He has asked for my hand in marriage—has demanded it.”

  Juliet shook her head. “His greed runs deep,” she whispered. A new thought came to mind. “I now realize I have been fooled in more ways than one.” She sighed. “I have been investing in his business, as has Annabel and some of our friends. I have fallen for his lies and led them right into it.”

  “Investing?”

  “He approached me first…” She explained everything, including Robert’s plan to open new shops. “I cannot believe I fell for his lies.” A new sense of shame came over her as she realized she would now lose everything she had given him, as would the others who had trusted her.

  “He is a gifted storyteller,” her mother said. “A palterer of the highest caliber.”

  Juliet clicked her tongue. “Wooing women into his bed,” she murmured. “To trick a lady into handing over her savings.” She looked at her mother, a sadness overwhelming her. “I see now from where my ability to tell stories come. Of all the attributes I could have received from him…It sickens me.”

  Her mother hurried over to her and embraced her once more. “Your stories have always been delightful. If you use them for good, there is no harm in their telling.”

  Juliet snorted. “Like him, I have only used them for my own benefit. Mother, do you believe he has any good in him?”

  Her mother’s frown was answer enough. “Even after nineteen years, the man has not changed, so I would hazard to suspect that he does not.”

  Juliet nodded, downed the remainder of her brandy in one gulp and placed the glass on the cart. “I will see if there is,” she said firmly. “I love you, Mother, and if I have ever disappointed you in any way, I am sorry.”