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Authors: Helen Hardt

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BOOK: Rose in Bloom
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“Rose,” he breathed softly. “My Rose.”

His language startled her. She broke away forcefully. “Don’t do this to me. It’s not fair. I’m not
your
Rose.”

A tear trickled slowly down her cheek. Cameron wiped it away with the softest touch of his finger.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t want me, remember? I offered myself to you completely, without condition, and you rejected me.”

“Rose…”

“I gave you my virtue, Cameron, and more importantly, I gave you my love. I don’t regret it, but I won’t let you hurt me again.”

She ran from the cabin, her eyes blinded by her tears, until she crashed into a wall.

Rose wiped her eyes with her fingers. The wall was Cameron’s mother. “Mrs. Price. I’m sorry. I don’t know what is the matter with me. I didn’t see you.”

“Cam is in the cabin, isn’t he?” Mrs. Price said.

“What?”

“You were with him, weren’t you?”

“I…yes, he’s there.”

“My lady,” Mrs. Price said softly, but harshly, “I know that you are the duchess’s sister, and we are living on Lybrook land, but I have to ask you not to return to our home.”

“Pardon?”

“I know Kat is fond of you, and you of her, but your presence here… It is harmful to Cameron. He is hurting, and I can’t allow it to continue.”


He
is hurting?”

“Yes. He fancies himself in love with you. He’ll get over it, but not if you keep coming around here, rubbing his nose in it.”

“But Mrs. Price, I never—”

“I’m sorry, but that is my final word on the matter. I want you to go back to the estate now. I’ll make excuses for you to Kat and Tricia.”

“I can’t—”

“That is
all
, my lady. Now I must see to my son.” Mrs. Price walked away briskly.

* * * *

Cam looked up when his mother entered the cabin. She sat down next to him on the bed and stroked his hair.

“She’s gone now, Cameron, and she’s not coming back.”

Cameron sniffed, his heart so broken he feared it could never heal. “You sent her away?”

“Yes. I won’t let her hurt you anymore.”

“This is silly, Mum.” Maybe she would believe his falsehood. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Cameron. I’m your mother. You don’t need to try to be strong for me.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she gestured him to be quiet.

“It’s unfair, what you’ve been forced to do for us because your father died. You’re a musician, Cam, and a fine one. If only you could have had the proper training. But that wasn’t possible. Even so, you could have made it on your own if your father hadn’t died.”

“I don’t blame any of this on him, or on you, Mum.” And he didn’t. He loved his family. How could he resent them?

“I know you don’t. You’re a good boy, Cam, and a fine man. Any woman would be lucky to have you. But Rose isn’t worthy of you.”

He let out a broken laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s I who am not worthy of her. She is…amazing. She’s not like some of the nobility. She sees people for who they are, not who they were born to.”

Mrs. Price shook her head. “If she truly cared for you, she wouldn’t have rejected you. How can you defend her after what she’s done to you?”

“We did it to each other,” Cam lied. “Neither of us is more to blame than the other.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Well, that’s the truth of it.”

“It’s not the truth of it, Cam. If she really loved you, she would have…” Mrs. Price closed her eyes.

“She would have what?”

“Cam.” She opened her eyes and took one of his hands in her own. “There’s something I need to tell you. Perhaps I should have told you long ago.”

“What is it?”

“God forgive me for keeping this from you.” She let out a breath. “I’ve always told you that my parents—your grandparents—were dead.”

“Yes.”

“Well, they may be, for all I know. But they may not be. The truth is, they abandoned me.”

Cam widened his eyes. “What? Why?”

“Because I married your father.”

“I don’t understand.

“My father was a baronet, Sir Rexford Lyttleton, a member of the gentry. I was Miss Clementine Lyttleton, and your father was a groom in our stables.”

Cameron jerked forward. His mother’s eyes held honesty.

“He came to work for my father when I was but ten and he was eleven. He was the bastard son of a local woman who died of cholera. Colton didn’t know who his father was, only that he was a young earl. Your grandmother had been a housemaid in his father’s employ. When he found out that she was pregnant by his heir, he tossed her into the streets. Her name was Joy, and she was not but sixteen.”

Cameron shook his head, his mind a mass of swirling jumbles. “So you’re telling me that I’m the grandson of a baronet, and the grandson of an earl?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you.”

Cameron tried to wrap his mind around this new reality. “And my great-grandfather tossed out a maid for getting pregnant by his son, and my grandfather tossed out his own daughter for falling in love with a servant?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“This from our nobility and gentry.” Cam shook his head again. “The tyrants. Go on.”

“My father took Colton in after his mother died and brought him to our small estate in Hampshire. He became a stable boy and eventually worked his way up to groom. He was amazing with horses. He was so intelligent. He seemed to be able to communicate with them.”

Cameron’s head continued to whirl. None of this made sense. His father had been a kind and loving parent, but intelligent was not a word Cameron would have used to describe him.

“I followed him around shamelessly,” Mrs. Price continued. “He was something when he was young. He looked a lot like you, Cam, except that you have my black hair. His was a dark brown. Your eyes are his, though. You probably remember them more as a dark grey, but when he was young, they were as silvery blue as yours. Your talent for music comes from him too. He used to play the guitar and the harmonica simultaneously in the loft of the stables in the evenings. He wrote his own songs. I used to sneak out of my room at night to listen to him play.”

“Mum, Papa never played music. He never took any interest in mine.”

She frowned. “There’s a reason for that.”

“What would that be?”

“I’ll get to it. Anyway, Colton finally noticed me when I turned sixteen. We started sneaking around, meeting each other in clandestine places, stealing kisses.” Her eyes lit up. “I adored him. I would have followed him anywhere.”

“It seems that you did.”

“Yes, I did. I never abandoned him, even after…”

“After what?”

“Well, when I was seventeen, I became pregnant with you.”

“Before you were married?”

“Yes. I’m not proud of it, but it happened, and you were the result, so I’ve never been sorry. When my father found out, he threw us both out, and then he paid a gang of thugs to beat and bloody Colton.” Mrs. Price took a few deep breaths. “Your father was never the same after that beating. I nursed him back to health as best I could, but I had no money to get him the medical help he so desperately needed. The other servants were sympathetic to our plight and let us hide in their quarters until Colton could travel. One of the thugs had hit your father in the head with a club, and it must have done something to his brain. That wonderful silver sparkle that your eyes have? Your father never had it again after that night. He never made music again. In fact, he couldn’t do even the simplest ciphering anymore, and he could barely read. But he remembered me, and still he loved me and I him. He was what he was because of his love for me, so I couldn’t abandon him. I didn’t want to. But there was no way for him to make a decent living doing anything that required intelligence. When he was well enough to travel, the servants gave us enough money to leave Hampshire and travel here. Your father was strong and muscular, like you are, and was willing and able to work hard. We traveled along until the opportunity to work the Lybrook land presented itself.” She sighed. “We’ve been here ever since.”

“So we were never meant for this life, were we?”

“No, Cam. But the point of my story is—”

“Trish and I were talking the other day,” Cameron interrupted. “She and Kat are so smart, Mum. In the back of my mind, I always knew we were different.”

“Yes, the three of you are quite gifted. If only you could have had a proper education.”

Cameron’s mind raced. “It’s too late for me, and probably for Trish too, but not for Kat.”

“But how?”

“Let’s leave here. We should have done it long ago. I’ll go to Bath the first of the week and look for work. If there’s nothing to be had there, we’ll go to London.”

“But the money.”

“I have plenty. I finished that other commission, remember? Assuming we don’t have any more unforeseen medical costs, it will be enough for several months or more.”

She touched his arm. “I haven’t yet told you the point of the story.”

“The point is that we were never meant for this life. And now that I know that, we’re leaving.”

“Cameron, that’s fine. You’ve done your time here, and if you think you can make a better life for us elsewhere, we’ll go, but that’s not why I told you all of this.”

“All right, Mum. What is the point?”

“I never abandoned your father, Cam. I never rejected him, even though he was below my station. Even when his brain was damaged and he couldn’t do anything other than hard labor. I stayed with him and bore his children, made a home for him, because I loved him.”

“Yes, that was noble of you.”

“This is why Lady Rose isn’t worthy of you. She wasn’t willing to give everything up for you.”

Cameron shook his head. “You don’t know the whole story.”

“I know enough. Now let’s not mention her again.”

“That’s fine with me,” Cameron said. God alone only knew how the mere mention of Rose made his heart suffer with an incurable yearning. She was no doubt betrothed to Xavier by now anyway. He had to forget her. “If I can find work in Bath next week, I’ll rent a townhouse for us. If not, we’ll go to London by rail.”

“Goodness.”

“And I can still take private commissions. I’ll make a name for myself. I’ll make you proud. You and Papa both.”

“Your papa was always proud of you, Cam. You were the light of his life. He never wanted you to know about his beating. He was afraid it would make him weak in your eyes. I told him over and over that you wouldn’t feel that way, that you would be glad to know your musical gifts came from him, but he wouldn’t be swayed. He made me promise on his deathbed that you children would never know the truth. Dear Lord, I hope I don’t burn in hell for this betrayal.”

“You did the right thing, Mum.”

“That remains to be seen. If only there were more money. Oh!” Mrs. Price gasped. “Money! I nearly forgot. I still have the hundred pounds you gave me to pay the hospital bill.”

“Didn’t they find the error?”

“The bookkeeper said he did a thorough accounting, and he couldn’t find an error.”

“Who made the payment then?”

“He didn’t know. Evidently it came in while he was on his lunch break. It was in an unmarked envelope, with a note attached saying it was to be used for Kat’s care.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“It’s a bit odd, but Cam, can’t we just accept it?”

“It’s charity.”

“I don’t know that it is. Maybe it’s just our time. And Dear Lord, it’s been a long time coming.”

“Mum—”

“Don’t tell me that an extra hundred pounds won’t come in handy while you’re looking for the perfect situation for your incredible talents.”

“Of course, but—”

“Then let’s just let it go this one time. We’ve never taken this kind of help before. We don’t even know where the money came from, so we can’t return it. Let’s just say it was a gift from God this one time.”

Cameron smiled at his mother. “All right, Mum. Just this one time.” He gave her a quick hug.

Chapter Ten

Cameron’s first day in Bath was a disappointment. No one was hiring for anything, especially not an untrained composer who could play the pianoforte and the guitar. The next day, on a whim, he entered the Regal Theatre of Bath, a new playhouse that had been only recently completed. Since Bath had been linked to London by rail in 1841, the Theatre Royal, which had been built in 1805, had been bolstered. One of its most successful actors, Zachary Newland, had branched out on his own and constructed the new theatre, putting together a company and hoping draw the crowds in from London and Bristol.

Cam had read about the Regal. Though similar to the Royal in size, the Regal sported a cozier atmosphere. Newland wanted to produce quality plays and musicales within in his own company, as well as debut national productions that would eventually end up in one of London’s noted theatres. It was near the end of the working day when Cameron knocked on the door of Newland’s office.

The tall auburn-haired man opened the door. “May I be of assistance?”

Cameron cleared his throat. “Zachary Newland?”

“Yes?”

“Good afternoon.” Cam held out his hand. “I am looking for work.”

“Are you an actor?”

“No. A composer, actually.”

“Hmm. Published?”

“Yes. Two pieces published in London. A folk tune and a waltz.”

“No experience in composing for the theatre, then?”

“I’m afraid not. But I feel certain that I could do it.”

“Where did you study?”

Cameron sighed. This was always the question he dreaded. “I’m purely self-taught.”

“Oh.” Newland pulled his timepiece from his pocket, looked at it, and frowned. “I’m on my way out, but if you’d like to leave me a calling card, perhaps I’ll get back to you. However, I’m afraid I can’t offer you much promise.”

“Of course, I understand.” Cameron reached in his pocket and pulled out a card with his name and address written on it and handed it to the gentleman. “Here you are. Thank you for your time.” He turned and headed toward the door.

“Wait.” Newland came up behind him. “You’re Cameron Price?”

“Yes.”

“That name sounds familiar to me. You say you’ve been published?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps I am familiar with your work.”

“It’s possible, though neither was widely distributed. I was young and unfortunately didn’t really know how to market my music. I chose a small publishing house and wasn’t paid much.”

“You don’t say.” Newland scratched his head, regarding Cameron as though he were trying to solve a riddle. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Wait here, will you?” Newland briskly walked into another room and came back holding a piece of music. “Did you write this?”

Cameron took the parchment. It was a copy of
Lily’s Waltz
. “Yes, I did. But I’m not sure how you came upon it. It was a private commission for the Duke of Lybrook.”

Newland chuckled. “The duke sent it to me, along with a sizable donation to the theatre. His father was a great patron of the arts and was one of the Theatre Royal’s greatest benefactors.”

“I see. Why would Lybrook send you my waltz?”

“He suggested that I might find it interesting.”

“And did you?” Cameron dared to hope.

“As a matter of fact, I did. It’s a beautiful piece. You are quite talented. I never would have guessed that you received no formal training.”

“Thank you, Mr. Newland.”

“Tell me, would you be interested in serving as the house composer for the Regal Theatre?”

Cameron nearly jumped out of his skin. “Yes, definitely.” Then, “But…would you have given me a second look if the duke hadn’t sent you my piece?”

Newland laughed heartily. “Absolutely not.”

Cameron frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t take your charity, Mr. Newland. Good day.” He turned to leave the theatre.

Newland came up behind him and blocked his exit. “Don’t be a fool, Price. I’m offering you a chance that you wouldn’t otherwise have.”

“Of course I’m grateful. But in the back of your mind, you no doubt hope that by hiring me, you will continue to receive Lybrook’s support.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Newland chuckled. “That’s not in the
back
of my mind at all. It’s in the front of my mind.” Newland slapped Cam heartily on the back.

Cameron opened his mouth to speak, but Newland hushed him.

“Look, Price, I understand that you have your pride, and I respect that, but it’s nearly impossible for any student of the arts to succeed without a patron backing him. I myself was discovered by the Marchioness of Denbigh. She saw me in an obscure little theatre outside of London fifteen years ago. I was nineteen, and I hadn’t had any formal training either, but she thought I had promise, so she paid for my transport here to Bath and set me up at the Royal. The rest is history.”

“I really don’t think—”

“And surely you’ve heard of Thomas Attwood.”

“The composer? Of course.”

“The Prince of Wales himself took note of him and sent him abroad for training at his expense. Attwood eventually became a student of Mozart and later returned to England and enjoyed a hugely successful career.”

“I understand, but—”

“I could name dozens more composers, actors, artists, who only made names for themselves because they garnered the favor of some wealthy patron. Besides, I have heard your work”—he pointed to the waltz—“and I know you have talent. It’s not as though I’m hiring you blindly.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“I’m giving you a chance, is all. Lady Denbigh may have discovered me and set me up at the Royal, but would I have become the name I am today if I didn’t have the talent to back it up? If it makes you feel any better, rest assured that I’ll send you packing if your work is mediocre, regardless of the duke’s generosity.”

Cameron couldn’t help laughing. “You make a valid point.”

“So what do you say? Would you like to give it a try?”

Cameron smiled. “Yes,” he said, “I would.”

“Excellent. We’re a new theatre, as you know, and I’m just now putting our first production together. Opening night is scheduled for the solstice. We’re doing, appropriately enough,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“What type of music are you looking for?”

“Original composition for preludes and postludes, scenery changes. Sometimes I’ll want a piece for a particular scene.”

“The solstice is only two weeks away.”

“Yes, I know. Will that be a problem?”

“It depends. For a full orchestration I would probably need more time.”

“We don’t have an orchestra yet. I’ll need arrangements for the pianoforte and a string quartet.”

“I think I can accommodate that,” Cameron said, hoping he wasn’t overextending himself. “But tell me, with opening night only a few weeks away, what were you going to do if I hadn’t walked in here?”

Newland let out a chortle. “What I always do, Price. Act. I would have acted like I knew what the hell I was doing. My pianist would have played some classical themes, changed them a little here and there.”

“You could still do that.”

“Yes, but original music would be much better. It will lend notes of authority and elegance to our first production.”

“I see.”

“I’ll tell you what, Price. Let’s see how you do for the next two weeks. We’ll treat it as a private commission. I’ll pay you…fifty pounds. Is that fair?”

“Yes, extremely.”

“If it works out, we’ll make the position full time, at three hundred fifty pounds per year. Will that work for you?”

Cameron tried to hide his jubilation, without much success, he feared. He felt ten feet tall. “That will be acceptable.”

“I can give you an office here, or you can work at home. Whichever you prefer.”

“I’ve never worked out of an office before.”

“Then you can work at home.”

“I think I’d like to try an office, actually.”An office in the theatre. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“That’s fine. You can do both for all I care, as long as you get the job done.”

“What about private commissions?”

“What you do on your own time is your business. As long as my work gets done, I don’t care how many private commissions you take. Shall we shake on it?”

Cameron shook Newland’s hand heartily. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Newland.”

“Just Newland is fine.”

“All right. I appreciate your confidence in me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, around ten, and we’ll go over what I need for the new production. I assume you’ve read
Midsummer
?”

“Yes, but it was years ago.”

“Here.” Newland handed him a copy of the play. “Read through this tonight so you’re ready to discuss our musical needs in the morning.”

“I will. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at ten, then.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you out.”

“Thank you. Oh, by the way, I’m looking for a townhome to rent in the area. Are you aware of any that are available?”

“For just yourself?”

“No, actually. For myself, my mother, and my two sisters. My mother is widowed and they are my responsibility.”

“Yes, yes. I may have just the place, Price. I own a townhome not far from here. It has four bedrooms plus servants’ quarters. I think you will find it quite pleasant. I can take you there now if you like.”

“What are you asking for rent?”

“Five pounds per month.”

“That sounds reasonable. Yes, if you have time, I’d be obliged to see it now.”

The townhome was perfect, and Cameron paid Newland for two months rent. Although it was nearly six o’clock, he stopped at a transport company and arranged to have his household moved later in the week. Then he mounted Apollo and began the long ride home. It was ten o’clock when he reached the stable, and he still had to read through the Shakespeare play and get up early to be at the theatre by ten. He wouldn’t continue this commute. This would be the last night he spent in the cottage.

His mother was waiting up for him. “Better luck today?”

Cameron scooped his mother into his arms and twirled her around. “Much better, Mum,” he said. “We are leaving this place. Pack up. A transport will be here in two days to move you and the girls to our new townhome in Bath.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I got a job. I’m going to be the composer for the new Regal Theatre.”

“Cam, what on earth…?”

“And I rented a townhome for us. It has four bedrooms, plus two parlors and a formal dining room. A schoolroom for the girls. Wait until you see the kitchen. And servants’ quarters too.”

“Can we really afford all this?”

“And indoor plumbing, Mum!”

“You need to answer my question, Cam.”

“Yes, yes, we can. We have two hundred pounds. And I’ll be making three hundred fifty pounds per year as the house composer for the theatre, plus I’ll still be able to take private commissions.”

“Oh, Cam, our time really has come!”

“You bet it has. You should have told me about Papa years ago.”

“I know. You’re absolutely right. It was foolish of me to keep such a silly promise.”

“It’s no matter. Things are looking up. Once you get moved in, I want you to hire a maid and a governess for the girls, and a cook—”

“I’ll do the cooking, Cameron.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not. We’re not going to be spendthrifts, for goodness’ sake.”

“We have the money.”

“Well, yes, thanks to a few private commissions. But we can’t be sure things will continue to go our way.”

“It’s thanks to one of those commissions that I got this job. The duke sent a copy of my waltz to the owner of the Regal, and he liked it. He recognized my name went I went in today, and he hired me. Of course, it sticks in my craw a bit that I didn’t get the position on my own, but, well, suffice it to say that my new employer made some valid points.”

His mother smiled. “If you’re comfortable with the situation, Cam, so am I.”

“I am. If it means getting you and Trish and Kat out of here, I am. I only wish I had done it years ago.”

“I know. I should have told you the truth long ago.”

“Don’t berate yourself. I should have believed in myself more. It shouldn’t have mattered what my background was. But I’m not going to berate myself either. It’s time to move forward, Mum. We are finally moving forward!” He twirled her around again.

“Goodness, Cam, you’re making me dizzy!”

He kissed her cheek. “Go to bed, Mum. You have a big day tomorrow, packing and all. You’ll need to send a note to the estate telling them we’re vacating the land. And Arnold. You’ll have to let him go. Tell him to keep the money I paid him through next month as severance.”

“Can’t you take care of Arnold, Cam? I hate giving people bad news.”

BOOK: Rose in Bloom
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