Page 55 of The Songbird of Wychwood

Hastings pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “I understand your anger, George, I do, but my hands were tied. I was forced go to Hartsmere Hall to deal with my father’s funeral and all of the ghastly minutiae of the estate. It was a dreadful time. You were two months old the first time I saw you and held you. My, what a pair of lungs you had for a mite so small,” he grinned affectionately at the memory. I did not feel affection at all.

“I was sure that I had sired you. Violette was not the kind of girl who would put a child on a fellow in that way. You are my son, George, and looking at the man you’ve grown into gives me no doubt of that. You are the image of me as a young man. My name is on your birth certificate as your father.”

I’d honestly never thought to look for my birth papers. I supposed I could have gotten my answers far sooner if I had.

“I’m deeply sorry I could not be the father you deserved. Before his death my father arranged a match. I could not back out of it. And so, I could never have offered Violette marriage.”

“Did you love my ma?” I needed to know that I was at least born of an act of love, not an illicit tumble.

“We were, in our quiet moments, in love, if you can believe that. I took my family’s hereditary duties seriously, but I was also determined to have a hand in raising my son.”

I let out a derisive laugh. “You had no hand in raising me, sir. I am solely the product of my mother’s love.”

“You are, yes, you are.” Hastings sat back and stared into the dancing flames in the hearth. There were nights when I was a nipper that I’d dream of a father who would come to love mum and me. A man who’d play with me, tell me stories and take me on adventures. And now, with the Duke of Bedford a hand span away from me I could not think of a damnable thing to say.

“Violette and I had a secret arrangement,” William explained. “I would come to town once a month to spend the weekend with my other family. We would take my carriage and we would go for walks in the park, to museums, cafes and then back to the new rooms I paid for. We were happy for a time, and I took great pleasure in watching you grow and explore the world. But my wedding approached and after a year of mourning, I had no choice but to back away. I wrote to Violette and explained my predicament. I sent money for your upkeep, but I never received a letter of reply.”

Clearly my ma hadn’t known that the man she loved was promised to another. She must have been broken hearted. “Were you surprised? As you said, my ma didn’t suffer fools. If she ever spoke to you again after that you were a lucky man!”

We were both silent for a tense moment before William rose and began to pace.

“Tell me. What happened next?” I demanded because I needed to understand my history.

“Elizabeta and I married, and after our honeymoon in Scotland I tried to reach out to Violette again, but she’d vacated the rooms I rented. It took a long time to discover what had become of you both. I resorted to employing an inquiry agent, and after seven years he found you both. Violette was working as a seamstress in Dover. She’d moved around a lot, only staying in a town for a handful of months. It was a vagabond existence that I did not want for my boy. Violette was approached by my fellow, but refused my help and money for your upkeep. She was proud and determined, but I loved you both and could not give up. I had to find another way. When we were courting, Violette told me that she dreamed of making costumes for the great theaters of London. After you were born, she said that she wanted our boy schooled in the theater, not at a stuffy prep-school. My estate owns acres of land including that of Covent Garden and Drury Lane. I thought that if she was offered opportunities in the city there would be a chance we could meet and at least be friends. I could watch you grow. I wanted that so desperately. And so I made covert arrangements for her to gain employment at a theater.”

My blood ran cold with the realization. “Which theatre?”

“Do you even need me to say? Alfred Grayson was my tenant at The Middlesex Music Hall. I asked him to employ a costumier and allow her and her son to live at the theater. He did so, but he was quick to realize that I wanted him to house my mistress and my bastard. Grayson blackmailed me, and I had no choice but to acquiesce to his demands. My wife was pregnant at the time and the shock of learning I had a son would have done for her. So, we made an agreement and my lawyer amended the leasehold to show that all was required was a payment of one peppercorn per year. I also paid him a monthly stipend to ensure your needs were met.”

“Grayson told me he’d had an arrangement with my ma…made it sound like he got his rent paid in other ways.”

“He did what? I can assure you that your mother found Alfred Grayson quite repulsive. Harold would have told me if anything untoward had happened between them.”

“I beg your pardon. Harold, who watches the stage door?”

“Yes. Harold is my man. He sends reports to me each month.”

I was stunned. Had I lived in a bubble of my own imaginings? Because the reality of what occurred in my childhood was not as I remembered.

“I didn’t see you or Violette again until your twelfth birthday. Violette was comfortable at the Middlesex by then, she was happy. We met and finally mended our friendship. We had a birthday tea for you in your room. I brought a hamper of foods and you ate so much you made yourself quite ill.”

I recalled a birthday feast when I turned twelve, but believed Grayson had given ma the hamper. “I don’t remember ever meeting you,” I said coldly.

“And why would you, you were but a child, and my visits were not regular. My wife, Elizabeta was sickly with her pregnancies and getting away was difficult to explain.”

“Do I have half-brothers or sisters?”

“Sadly no. Elizabeta and I would go on to have three sons, all stillborn. The final time the doctor decided it would be best to…ensure no other pregnancy was possible.”

“Oh. How dreadful. I’m sorry to hear that,” I said honestly. His poor wife not only had a husband who lied, but she was unable to give him the son he wanted.

“You are my only son…and my heir,” William said, as if reading my mind.

“What, no. No sir. I won’t have it, surely there’s some sibling or nobby cousin you can pass your title to. That’s not my life. I don’t want it,” I said passionately, and I meant every word. I was just starting my life with Percy and I would not have the boat rocked by this Duke revealing me as his bloomin’ bastard heir. I wanted to write, and perform and travel the world, not be shackled with his vast weight of his estate when he eventually passed.

“Why are you telling me all of this now?” I demanded with frustration.

“That’s a fair question.” William took his seat again. “There are several reasons. My dear Elizabeta passed away three weeks ago, and so I no longer need to protect her from discovering my secret. And also, this beastly business with Alfred Grayson…”

My hackles rose. “What about Alfred Grayson?”

“Grayson is a tricksy kind of fellow, a leech I’ve wanted to rid myself of for fifteen years,” he sneered.

“I received a note from Bow Street yesterday, Alfred Grayson had been arrested and he requested me to visit. I had no idea of the charges he’d been arrested for, but Grayson had maintained a hold over me and I was at his beck and call.”

“What did he want?” I asked grimly.

“He asked me to send my best lawyer to get him out of jail. And if they could not I was to pay his bail bond or he would reveal that I sired a bastard. I kept you a secret for the sake of my wife. Not being able to birth a live child nearly drove her insane, and she became...emotionally delicate. I didn't want her upset. But Grayson’s threats mean nothing now because Elizabeta is with our Lord and my secret can no longer hurt her. I told him that he could go hang for all I cared. When I left the interview room, I asked to speak with the police detective investigating the case. A DI Meadows told me what crimes he was arrested for. I knew then that I had to speak with you and make amends.”

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