Page 34 of The Songbird of Wychwood

PERCY

I returned to Hamilton Place to find a carriage loaded with my trunks waiting outside. I wondered why George had not opened the door and let the men move my belongings in. I hurriedly unlocked the front door to get my answer. George was not in residence, and so I instructed both Bentley and Sidney to carry the trunks in.

“If you need me to work for you here Mr. Harcourt, I would be pleased to do so, sir,” Sidney said eagerly as I directed him to one of the spare rooms where he could unpack my suits and place them in the empty wardrobe. Theo’s belongings required sorting out before this apartment would truly be our home. And at the current moment I did not want live-in servants. I longed to be alone with George and muddle through together. I didn’t know how long I’d be content to do without a man of all work, and I did not answer Sidney to tell him of my wishes. Maybe that was cruel of me. He was employed by my father to serve at Blackwood Hall, and if I was no longer in residence he may well soon be out of a job. However, it had been a long day in the office and I was concerned about where the devil George had gone. I strode into the lounge to find the coals were cold and he’d left a note on the desk for me telling me he’d be back later. Beside it was another note written in purple ink. I knew the penmanship, and seeing it confused me even more, because it was not a notification about the next party, but rather a summons to Wychwood by his employer. For what reason? Well, I supposed the fact that he… we had broken the rules was of concern. George was now cohabiting with a member of Club Fifty-Five after all! I hoped he would not lose his employment there as George loved playing Miss Georgette, and the members adored her.

Bentley and Sidney had unpacked my trunks and stowed my garments. When they were leaving, I gave them both a large tip, and said that I would be in touch with Sidney vis-à-vis daily duties if he was no longer required at Blackwood Hall.

I’d planned to take George out to dinner tonight as he was no longer working in the evenings and so we could spend them together. But he was not home and I didn’t know when he’d be back so I resorted to fixing myself a plate of pork pie, and cheese on toasted bread. The note told me that George was collected at midday and it was now after five o’clock. What could the employer have wanted of him that took so long?

Agitated, I set the fire, and as the evening was drawing in, I lit some candles, and opened a bottle of claret to enjoy with my meager meal.

I was editing a poem that would be included in my small book of love poetry when George arrived home. It was after six p.m. He was wearing Lord Dickey’s costume, probably because it was the smartest suit he owned. I would soon change that!

“Is there any pork pie left? I’m famished,” he asked as he removed his jacket, laid it over the back of a chair, and then slumped onto the couch beside me. I put my arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. George seemed to melt into me. I pushed his wavy hair back and then gave him a kiss on the brow.

“Did you have a good day?” I asked softly, secretly desperate to know what had happened during his afternoon at Wychwood.

George let out a bone weary sigh. “I had a day of revelations, I suppose,” he began solemnly, not his chipper self at all.

“What happened? I saw the note. You were taken to Wychwood?”

“I was. And I will tell you, but I need to eat and wash the day away. Did you light the water boiler?”

“I did. You go and start the bath. I’ll make you a plate and put the kettle on, and then you can tell me all about it.” I was worried that George had lost his place at Wychwood because of our romantic entanglement. I knew that possibility would crush him, especially as he’d just moved out of the Middlesex and he didn’t have any performances arranged at other venues yet. I supposed he would need to find a theatrical agent to manage his career.

An hour later, we were bathed, fed, and enjoying a lovely bottle of Theo’s wine by the fire.

“I…err…met my father today,” George said surprising me.

“What the devil?” I sat up and glared at him in shock.

“Indeed. I don’t know what to make of it,” he admitted.

“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in. Tell me, let me ease your burden,” I reached out and George took my hand, entwining our fingers. He then proceeded to tell me about the man who had met him at Wychwood, and that the house was used as a meeting place for all manner of secret trysts, not just for Club Fifty-Five. He told me how his mother and father met. The revelations were astounding. George, my beloved George…was the illegitimate son of the Duke of Bedford. The duke had hidden his secret second family from his wife. He had loved Violette D’Ancie but was forced into an arranged marriage. Violette was heartbroken and she had run from the duke, taking their son, and evaded him for years. George revealed that the move to the Middlesex had been a lure created by the duke to fulfill the wishes of the woman he secretly loved. But, not long after Violette moved in Alfred Grayson had soon realised who she and George were to the duke and he blackmailed him for years.

"I want to hate him, my dad, but I can’t. He seems to be a man who did his best to protect those he cared for in difficult circumstances. His wife carried three babes and they were all stillborn. Can you imagine what that would do to a woman? How cruel it would have been for her to discover her husband had sired a son with someone else.”

“Why did he tell you now?”

“His wife passed away so there was no need to protect her anymore. And, Alfred Grayson tried to turn the screw to get out of jail. But as Mrs. Hastings is gone, William told him to hang. He didn’t know Grayson was stealing my songs. But now he knows he said he’ll make sure the scoundrel does time.”

“So, you’re the heir to the Bedford Estate?”

George sighed, “I’m his heir. But I told him I don’t want his title. He can pass it on to a cousin twice removed or some such, I don’t want it,” he asserted.

“Good grief. So, Eloise was correct. The Duke of Bedford, your father, owns the Middlesex!”

“He does. In fact, he offered to give it to me in recompense for being an absent father.”

"He offered to give you the theatre?" I said aghast.

"Yeah, this is why I was gone for so long. William said its mine if I wished it so. He said he’s attended many times and he was proud to see me on stage and see how much the crowd loves me. He said ma would have been so happy to watch me perform. It was her wish that I should be as much a part of the theater as she was. William made that happened for us. I supposed I can’t fault him there. He even said he would invest a thousand pounds in upgrading the place."

"Well, yes, it could do with a lick of paint. But, that's an astonishing offer. What are you going to do?"

“If...or more likely when Grayson gets sent down, the Middlesex will have to close and all those whose livelihoods depend upon it will be out of work. I've known many of the workers there since I was a nipper. They taught me the ropes and they were generous with their time. I know their families. I can't see all of those people out of work cos of my pride.”

“Would you run the place yourself? What of your songs, and your acting?”

“Oh, I know my limits and I can't do it all. I'll have to employ a daily manager so that I can work on what I do best, writing, acting, and singing."

"Are you…moving back in to the theatre? I must admit, I do enjoy the thought of living with you here. But I understand if your plans have changed. Discovering you're a Hastings is quite the shocker!" I said, trying to sound positive, although in all honesty my heart was crumbling at the thought of it. We’d just begun our journey into love and I’d yearned so long to have a boy of my own, in the privacy of our own home.

"I figured that it’s better for me, for us, if I have a separation between work, and where I live. I want to live here with you Percy. I want this to be our safe place, away from prying eyes. I want this to be where we can be ourselves.” George turned to me then and captured my face in his hands. He looked into my eyes, and what I saw reflected there were love, peace, and belonging.

“You said that your grandfather Theodore made a terrible mistake by putting business and pride before his beloved Edmund Valentine and it made them both resentful and unhappy. I don’t want to make the same mistake,"

I wrapped my arms around George's hips and drew him closer.

"That's good news then, because Theo told me that once I found a fellow to love I should never let him go."

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