12 October, 1824

Bedfordshire, England

"Fiona!" Jeanette shouted, clutching her walking stick tightly as she ambled towards the entrance of their cottage. "Come back here, I say!"

"I will be late if I do, nana," her great granddaughter replied, her skirts almost half way up her calves as she clutched them—already on the run.

"You need to eat something, girl. And put your skirts down! How many times have I told you that it's unladylike to run like that?!"

"I'll find something to eat in the Duke's kitchens." She conveniently ignored the second sentence.

"You're a blight on the human race," she screamed.

"So are you! Now go back inside, I'll be just fine!"

Jeanette let out an exasperated sigh and turned around. She couldn't very well run behind the girl with a basket of breakfast at her age, could she?

Fiona ran like the very devil was behind her. It was her first day at work and she couldn't afford to make a bad impression.

She was to be a companion to the dowager duchess of Bedford. And Fiona was extremely nervous and excited. She previously served the Baroness Redgrave's mother—Lady Henrietta for five years—until the kind lady had passed six months back. Fiona hadn't had any source of income since then even though the Baron Redgrave had given her an excellent reference.

Until last week.

A letter had been delivered to her home by a sharply dressed footman. She'd jumped with joy when she'd seen the seal of the Duke.

A higher rank meant higher wages, after all.

Apart from being a womaniser, Baron Redgrave had been a stingy employer as well. But she'd stayed for Lady Henrietta.

The Duke had written that she would have a say in her wages. Which meant that Fiona could save enough to manage a decent enough feast for Nana Jeanette by Christmas.

She stopped running when she reached the woods. She couldn't afford to trip over something and hurt herself—not today.

Besides, she still had time. She began to sing to herself—a song she'd picked up from Lady Henrietta, truly happy for the first time in days.

"'Tis the last rose of summer,

Left blooming alone;

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone;

No flower of her kindred,

No rosebud is nigh,

To reflect back her blushes,

Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!

To pine on the stem;

Since the lovely are sleeping,

Go, sleep thou with them.

Thus kindly I scatter,

Thy leaves o'er the bed,

Where thy mates of the garden

Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,

When friendships decay,

And from Love's shining circle

The gems drop away.

When true hearts lie withered,

And fond ones are flown,

Oh! who would inhabit

This bleak world alone?"

********

Nate was having a fine time riding his gelding this morning. The weather was lovely—the perfect day to escape even if it was for a few hours.

He lead his horse into the woods, it must be thirsty.

Once he spotted the stream, he dismounted and lead the horse towards the stream.

Nate looked about him, the air was crisp with a light chill. And the soil smelt fresh.

But even his beautiful surroundings didn't let him forget about his mother.

He'd tried to reason with her but it was absolutely useless. She wasn't willing to listen to him—already having made up her mind.

They'd fought every single day this entire week. Ever since he'd informed of his decision to hire a companion for her. It had been a long time coming and he'd begun thinking about it sometime back but she'd refused to even discuss it, of course.

But the incident that took place last week sealed his decision.

She'd been trying to climb down the stairs in-spite of her arthritis. At the last few steps, the pain became too unbearable and she simply fell down.

The butler heard her shriek and immediately rushed there to find her lying on the floor, her face contorted in pain.

What pained him the most was that he hadn't been there for her. He'd been away in London when he heard the news.

Nate closed his eyes, a sudden ache bursting in his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

He didn't know why she was being so stubborn but he knew that this wouldn't have happened if she'd have had someone with her. He'd made up his mind and he wasn't going to change his decision.

An awful sound forced him to open his eyes. His hackles immediately went up. What was that?

He mounted his gelding and followed the sound, straining his ears. He navigated through the thick woods carefully, pushing a few branches out of his way.

And then he heard it properly.

"Where thy mates of the garden

Lie scentless and dead..."

Some woman was butchering what he suspected was a very beautiful ballad by Thomas Moore.

He wanted to clutch his belly and laugh. He wanted to see who this woman was. And he wanted to thank her for improving his mood with her terrible singing.

Nate almost followed her further but then changed his mind at the last moment.

He would probably scare the poor woman with an unannounced appearance. Besides, he needed to reach his estate.

The companion he'd hired would arrive this morning and although Redgrave had only good things to say about her, Nate wasn't going to let a literal stranger near his mother. He'd have to take stock of the woman first.

So he changed his direction and took the short route to his estate.

When he reached home, he took off his greatcoat and asked his butler where his mother was.

"She said she didn't wish to see you, your grace," Winterbottom said stiffly. The butler had taken it as a personal affront that Nate didn't think he was good enough to care for his mother.

Nate sighed and nodded. "I will be in my study..."

"I shall send the woman there then, your grace," Winterbottom bowed.