Songs of Yesterday Read online

  Rachel raised a single eyebrow as she pulled the bell chord. “We?” she asked with a small smile as she indicated a place on the sofa. “Is there a gentleman about whom I do not know?”

  Eleanor took a seat and chuckled. “I speak of Forbes, my butler. He handles the carriage quite well, and I trust him above all others during those times I must travel discreetly.”

  “It is good to have someone you trust,” Rachel said, sadness creeping over her features before she smiled once again. A maid entered and Rachel asked for a tea tray to be brought up. “So, tell me all about your family,” she said when the maid left.

  This was an easy topic to discuss. “Isabel, my eldest, is now with child.”

  Rachel’s smile widened. “That is marvelous!” she replied. “Will this be your first grandchild?”

  Eleanor nodded. “Indeed. I believe I am as excited as are Isabel and her husband, Laurence. Hannah, my second daughter, was wed four months ago. She married a marquess from Cornwall and they make their home here in London. Juliet is also married. She now lives in the North with her husband, Daniel.”

  “So far from home,” Rachel said, that sadness returning once again. More than likely she was thinking of her son who lived in Scotland with his wife.

  “Yes, much too far,” Eleanor replied. “Annabel was married two months ago and now lives in Penningford.”

  “Annabel?” Rachel asked. “Your niece?”

  Eleanor’s stomach clenched. “It is a long story.”

  Rachel nodded. “If you wish to share, you may. I will understand if you do not. But keep in mind that we do have time.”

  The inviting smile Eleanor remembered prompted her to share. If she could count on one thing it would be Rachel’s discretion. After a moment to collect her thoughts, she explained all that had happened concerning Annabel. She had no reason to keep the story to herself, for neither she nor Annabel had done wrong in all that had taken place, not during the summer or in the distant past.

  “That is quite a story!” Rachel said when Eleanor finished. “I cannot imagine going through what she has. Or you. But I am glad you told me.”

  With a smile, Eleanor replied, “And I am pleased I was able to share with you.”

  “And what of your son?” Rachel asked.

  Eleanor sighed. “Nathanial is still at boarding school where he is sheltered from the various problems that have arisen at home. In just a few short years, he will return to Scarlett Hall to take his place as the newest Baron Lambert. I cannot tell you how proud I am of him. He will certainly fill the position better than his father ever did.” She could not help the bitterness in her tone. Upon seeing a flicker of hurt in Rachel’s features, a great sadness filled her. “My apologies. I sometimes forget that you and Charles had been close before he and I married. I do not mean to speak ill of him.”

  “There is no need to apologize,” Rachel said and then laughed. “I did not have to live with the man. Regardless, your family sounds lovely.”

  “I have been truly blessed,” Eleanor replied. “And you? You mentioned in your letter that Graham is in Scotland. Does he have any children?”

  “His wife, Theresa, is carrying their second child.”

  “How wonderful for you!” Eleanor said. “And Rose? She must be what? One and twenty now?”

  Confusion filled Rachel’s features for a moment. “One and twenty?” Then realization replaced the confusion. “No, no, this is not the child I was carrying when I left Rumsbury.”

  Now it was Eleanor’s turn to be confused. “She is not?”

  “I am afraid I lost that child,” Rachel said sadly.

  “But you never told me,” Eleanor said, racking her brain for a memory of any mention in the few letters she received from the woman.

  Rachel shook her head. “I told no one, not even her father. Few would have cared, least of all he, so I buried my dead daughter alone. Then came Rose to fill that void. And what a blessing she was.”

  Eleanor waited for further explanation but none came. The maid returned with the tea tray and placed it on the table.

  “We will serve ourselves,” Rachel said, and the maid curtsied and left the room. “I imagine you are wondering why I asked you here.”

  “I must admit I am curious,” Eleanor replied, taking the teacup from Rachel with a quick “Thank you”.

  Rachel poured herself a cup and returned to her place beside Eleanor. “Although it has been many years, I feel as if it was only yesterday when I last saw you. I now wish we had communicated more often.”

  Guilt filled Eleanor. “I am sorry for my part in that,” she said despite the fact she had indeed made the attempt often, giving up when Rachel did not reply. She could have made more attempts if she had chosen to do so. “With raising my own children and the running of the house, I am afraid that time slipped away.”

  “That it did.” Rachel’s voice sounded as if it were breaking. “However, when I was blessed with a new daughter, I admit that my life became quite hectic.”

  “How old is Rose now?” Eleanor inquired.

  “She is eighteen,” Rachel replied, her face filled with pride. “She is the most beautiful woman and is kind to everyone she meets.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  Eleanor set her teacup in its saucer on the table and took Rachel’s hand. “Why are you so sad when you speak of her?” she asked, knowing that she might be overstepping her bounds but not caring. Rachel had never been one to share her burdens, but no one should be allowed to suffer alone. “Is there any way I may help? Is it money you need?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No, money is not a concern. You see, I am very ill, as I mentioned in my letter to you. The doctor believes I will only get worse as the months progress.”

  “I cannot tell you how sad this makes me,” Eleanor said. “How may I help? There must be something I can do if you sent for me.”

  Rachel nodded and closed her eyes. “I carry a deep shame in my heart, and it is the reason I stopped replying to your letters. However, I can no longer bear this shame alone.”

  “Then unburden yourself. I am here to listen and help in any way I can.”

  ***

  Eleanor was uncertain how much time passed, but as Rachel told her story, her heart hurt for the woman. What Rachel shared spoke of great heartache and pain, and Eleanor’s stomach constricted in distaste. Anger roared through her in one moment only to turn into compassion in the next. As the hands spun on the large mantle clock, she gave her friend every ounce of her attention, for what Rachel revealed was a heavy burden indeed.

  “Now,” Rachel said, accepting a handkerchief from Eleanor with a tiny smile, “I have a request of you.”

  “Anything.”

  Rachel sighed. “Please, take Rose with you when you return to Scarlett Hall. With her father dead and my own health failing, I have no one else to whom I can turn. I have so few I can trust to guide her, and it is too much to ask of my son and his family.”

  Eleanor, still reeling from all that Rachel had shared with her, said, “All this time, and I never knew. But yes, of course she may come and stay with me. Rose will be well taken care of, and I will see that she finds a proper suitor.”

  “I will never be able to thank you enough,” Rachel said as she embraced Eleanor. “I know you will care for her as if she were your own.”

  “Of course. Does Rose know she is to come with me?”

  Rachel nodded. “I told her that I am leaving for Paris and that she is to stay with you while I am gone. I mentioned that we are such good friends that she should call you Aunt Eleanor. I hope you do not mind.”

  Eleanor felt a flush of pleasure. “Of course, I do not mind!” she said. “She will be safe and I will find the most perfect gentleman for her. Do not worry; you must focus on your health.”

  As if on cue, the door opened and a lovely young woman entered the room. Eleanor could see much of Rachel in her features, but Rose had dark brown hair rather than Rachel’s red.
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  “Rose, this is my dear friend, Eleanor. You will be staying with her at her home in Rumsbury, which is located in Wiltshire, a day’s journey from here.”

  Rose gave Eleanor a smile and dropped into a curtsy fit for royalty. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Mother has told me so much about you.”

  Eleanor’s heart went out to the young lady. She was beautiful and by all appearances well-trained, which came as no surprise. There was also an innocence about her that reminded her so much of Annabel. “The pleasure is all mine. I know we will have a wonderful time together.” She glanced at Rachel. “We should be leaving soon, or we will be forced to stop at an inn along the way. One night away from home is enough for me, and although I found Miller’s Hotel comfortable, my own bed is always the most inviting.”

  “Of course,” Rachel said before hugging Eleanor. “Thank you,” she whispered in Eleanor’s ear.

  “Think nothing of it,” Eleanor whispered back.

  Rachel slipped a folded parchment into Eleanor’s hand. “Read it later, please.”

  Eleanor nodded and placed the letter into her reticule as Rachel hugged her daughter.

  “Now, are you certain you packed all your belongings?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Rose replied. Clearly this was not the first time Rachel had asked this question.

  Rachel placed a hand on her daughter’s face. “Good girl. Now, I want you to give your Aunt Eleanor the utmost respect. Give her the same regard you give me.”

  Rose smiled. “I will. I promise.”

  Eleanor could sense the affection the two women had for one another, yet there was an underlining sense of heartache. The amount of pain Rachel had revealed earlier was unmeasurable, and the cause of it made Eleanor grind her teeth. She could never have hoped to be as strong as this woman!

  Soon, she and Rose were walking out the front door to where the carriage awaited, Forbes standing at the open door. Several new trunks had been tied to the roof of the vehicle.

  “Rose, this is Forbes, our family butler.” When the young woman gave her a questioning look, Eleanor laughed. “Yes, our butler drives at times when I need him to do so, but do not worry; we have a driver at home.”

  “Eleanor,” Rachel called as Forbes handed Rose into the carriage.

  Eleanor returned to the stoop.

  “If for some reason I do not live…” Her words trailed off and a heaviness hung in the air.

  “Please, do not speak so,” Eleanor admonished. “You do not know what the future holds. Miracles do happen.”

  Rachel sighed. “Be that as it may, if my days are numbered, please promise me you will never disclose the secret I shared with you. It would do no good if it were revealed.”

  “I can certainly make that promise,” Eleanor said with a smile. She wrapped her arms around Rachel and pulled her tight, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall of their own accord. “Goodbye.” How she hoped that this would not be the last time she saw her friend!

  Eleanor turned and stepped into the carriage, pressing down the agony that filled her soul just as she had so many times before. She sat at the window and waved goodbye. So many years ago, it had been Rachel who waved farewell from a departing carriage, and now it was Eleanor who was doing so.

  Rose also waved a fond farewell, not knowing that this could very well be the last time she saw her mother alive. The idea of keeping secret her mother’s illness tore at Eleanor, but she had promised not to reveal it. If and when the time came that she had to explain Rachel’s death, then so be it. She could not—and would not—allow the young woman to mourn before she was forced to do so.

  As the carriage turned a corner and Rachel disappeared from sight, Eleanor leaned back into the bench. She closed her eyes, remembering the good days she and Rachel had shared and regretting that they had lost so many years.

  However, she could do nothing about the past. At least she could make it up to Rachel by helping her daughter, and with her own daughters now all married, she looked forward to yet another young woman’s debut into society.

  Chapter Two

  Rose had arrived at Scarlett Hall with her new guardian just as the sun was setting, and she could only stare in awe at the lavish estate. Her mother had spoken of how grand the Lambert home was, and Rose now saw that all she had been told was true. She doubted she had ever seen a home so grand outside of that of the Royal Family.

  The house sat on a hill and could be seen from miles away. With its massive towers and tiled roofs, it was as if the designer could not decide between a house and a castle and chose the best of both styles.

  Now, Rose waited patiently in what appeared to be a study as her Aunt Eleanor sat a decidedly masculine desk. “I will send word to a friend of my daughters’, Miss Caroline Thrup, to ask that she come and be with you as you acclimate yourself to your new home. I believe you will find her pleasant company.”

  “Thank you,” Rachel said, glad that the woman was so thoughtful. Then, remembering the manners her mother had taught her, she added, “I would like to thank you for opening your home to me while Mother is away.”

  Her aunt—how strange that she would think of a woman she had never met as an aunt, but her mother had been insistent—replaced the quill in its holder and salted the page. She stood and came around the desk. “You are most welcome.” Then she surprised Rose by pulling her in for a tight embrace. “Over the next months, I want you to treat Scarlett Hall as if it were your own home. If you wish to explore the many rooms, then by all means, do so. If you choose to spend time in the drawing room, you are welcome to do that. You need never ask permission for anything within the confines of these walls.”

  The kindness this woman showed warmed Rose’s heart. “Thank you.”

  “If you would like, I can give you a tour of the house, but that is never nearly as fun as exploring on your own. Or you may explore with Caroline when she comes. Whatever you prefer will be fine.”

  “What about books?”

  Eleanor laughed. “The library has enough books to last a lifetime. Come, I will show you.”

  The library was more than Rose could have imagined, and she could not wait to see what titles were available to her.

  What began as a glimpse of the library, however, turned into a full tour of the house. A few times, Rose lost all sense of direction—the house was by far the largest she had ever encountered!

  Suddenly, a sense of sadness overwhelmed her. How she wished her mother was there to enjoy it with her.

  “Are you all right, my dear?”

  Rose shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was never one to feel sorry for herself, and she was not about to begin now, not after all Eleanor—no, she must think of her as Aunt Eleanor—had done, and would do, for her. “Oh, yes, I am well. I was just thinking of Mother and wishing she were here with me. Perhaps when she returns from Paris, she will come here to retrieve me so we are able to leave together.”

  Aunt Eleanor placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Perhaps. Now I will show you your room. It was once Juliet’s bedroom, and I believe you will find it to your liking.”

  Rose offered the woman a smile and followed her up the red-carpeted staircase. On the wall hung various portraits of men she assumed were previous Lords Lambert. At the top of the stairs, she stopped to admire what appeared to be the most recent portrait.

  “Is this your husband?” she asked. “Mother told me they were very good friends once.”

  Aunt Eleanor did not reply right away, and Rose scolded herself inwardly. The poor woman’s husband was dead, and here she was likely upsetting her by bringing up the past. “Forgive my rudeness. Mother always says that my curiosity tends to get the best of me. It is not my business to be asking questions, especially those that may upset you.”

  “You may ask whatever you wish,” her aunt replied with a small smile. “As to your question, yes, that is Charles, my husband.” The woman did not speak of Lord Lambert with affection, but
Rose paid her no mind. Perhaps the man’s death still pained her. If she remembered correctly, he had been dead no more than three or four years.

  “I am excited to see my room,” Rose said, hoping to bring back the pleasantries they shared before Rose’s inconsiderate question.

  Her aunt led her down a hallway and stopped before one of the many closed doors. “This will be your room.” She opened the door and moved aside.

  Rose stopped just inside, overcome with awe. The room boasted a four-poster bed with white drapes, a vanity table large enough one could dine on if she so desired, a wardrobe that could hold more dresses and gowns than she owned, and a chest of drawers.

  She walked to one of the two large windows and peered out onto the exceptional gardens. Although most of the leaves had already fallen and the flowers were all but gone, she could imagine what it looked like when it was in full bloom.

  “Are you pleased with your new room?”

  Rose turned to her aunt and smiled. “It is more than I could have ever imagined,” she replied. “I must admit I am overwhelmed. This room, the view, they are wonderful.”

  “I am pleased that you like it. You will have everything you need here at Scarlett Hall, and if at any time, and for any reason, you need someone to talk to, I am here with a ready ear.”

  Rose smiled. “Thank you. I will take that into consideration.” She paused and worried her bottom lip. “Mother mentioned that I will be attending parties in order to find a worthy suitor.” She despised being a bother to anyone, but she had to know what was to come. Surprises did not sit well with her.

  “You are,” Aunt Eleanor replied. “If fact, we will order new dresses and gowns later this week for just such occasions.”

  “I have only been here less than half a day and already I have a room fit for a princess. Soon I will have a new wardrobe, and a new friend will be coming to see me. I feel like an overindulged child.”

  Her aunt turned toward her. “There is one thing concerning Caroline Thrup that you should know,” she said in a serious tone. “The woman tends to be nosy at times. If she or anyone else asks, your mother is my cousin. It will make things easy for us all.”