AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I think you have a chance for something and that you deserve to take it if you wish.” Scarlett’s smile softened again.
“I will have to think on it.” Scarlett made good arguments, but she was still reluctant. “I suppose, as I have been given the day, I might go to the shops and see about more milk and perhaps some fruit.”
“You might as well, if you’re still uncertain.” Scarlett nodded. “We could use more thread, as well, if you’ve some coin to spare.”
Lydia had finished her milk. Nora took the cup from her and rinsed it out. She was just gathering her shawl and a basket when Scarlett made an exclamation. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You’ve a letter.”
Nora stopped at once and turned around. “A letter? From my mother?”
She had told Scarlett some of her history, including her former family name. As she had promised, she had dutifully sent word when her daughter had been born. Since then, she had received many letters from her, at least one a month, delivered to the Post and generally picked up by her or Scarlett as soon after they were paid as might be managed. They inquired after her health and Lydia’s and included news of her family, particularly her sisters and her aunt in Bath.
They always ended with an entreaty for Nora’s address so that she might come and visit. She had offered to meet in a neutral location or even to visit Nora’s abode, even if she was forced to do so in secret. She pleaded to be allowed to meet her darling grandchild under any circumstances Nora might choose.
Nora had always refused to divulge the location of their cottage. She did not want her mother to get into trouble with her father, nor did she want her mother punished for her mistakes. She could only imagine what would happen should some member of Society happen to spot a member of the somewhat reclusive Beaumont family visiting a maid in a cottage. The speculation and scandal would certainly infuriate her father.
She was dragged from her thoughts as Scarlett returned from the small table where she regularly left any missives. Her housemate was frowning at the letter. “Is it from my mother?”
“The address is the same, but the writing is not. But there, I wager you can make more sense of it than I.” Scarlett handed the missive over.
Nora stared at it, her stomach churning as she retook her seat on the edge of the bed she shared with Lydia. Scarlett was correct. The handwriting was not her mother’s, though it was a style of handwriting she knew almost as well, despite the fact that she hadn’t seen it in over four years.
Her father had written her.
Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal and unfolded the letter with hands that she had to fight to keep from shaking. It took a few moments before she managed to focus her eyes on the actual writing, so disturbed were her nerves.
To Eleonora,
Just her name, no endearment. That did not bode well for the rest of the letter. She swallowed hard and started again.
To Eleonora,
It has come to my attention recently that, despite your status, your mother desires to visit you in whatever lodgings you have managed to secure in London. Though I was initially of a mind to refuse, she has recently given me information that has caused me to reconsider.
To whit, she has informed me that you have borne a child, a product of your ill-advised activities in Bath, a young girl by the name of Lydia.
A child, whatever her family history, is innocent of the wrongdoings of her parents. I am minded to permit your mother’s visitation, to see what manner of child you have raised thus far. Should the child have a pleasant temperament, I am not unwilling to consider a continued association.
In truth, should the child prove an amiable and likable youngling, I would be more than willing to take her under our family name. There are plenty of reasons to adopt a child, and at such a young age, there is a good chance that any faults in her character can be redeemed in an optimal environment.
As such, if you will give your mother the address, we shall make a visit to see whether your daughter would make a pleasant addition to the Beaumont family name and whether it might be possible to raise her in a manner befitting her heritage, and away from the faults, mistakes and tarnished reputation of her mother.
I await your reply.
Lord Beaumont
By the time she finished the letter, she could feel herself going hot and cold by turns. Rage and hurt crashed together and made her nearly sick with conflicting emotions.
Four years. Four years and not a word from her father. And now this. A letter stripped of all but the barest courtesies, such as he might send to a disliked but necessary business accomplice. And as for the content... well, she would be hard-pressed to find a more insulting or unforgiving message if she tried. And to claim he would take her daughter…!
A hand brought her attention back to the present, despite the roaring in her ears. Scarlett had left off attending to Lydia and banking the fire and was crouched in front of her. “Nora? Nora darling?”
She blinked and forced herself to focus. “I am…”
“You’re pale as a ghost and shaking like the last leaf in winter, is what you are.” Scarlett reached past her to seize the thin coverlet and wrap it around her shoulders. “What on earth was in that letter?”
“It is from my father.” She swallowed hard, fighting the nausea in her stomach and the hot, painful tightness of her throat. “He says…” It hurt to continue speaking and tears blurred her eyes.
A warm arm joined the coverlet around her shoulders, and a warm body pressed against hers from the side as Scarlett settled close to her and embraced her. “You don’t have to speak of it if it upsets you so, Nora, love. It’s all right.”
