Chapter 1

Lancashire, England, 1815

"Ido so love the woodlands at this time of year. Look at the bluebells, a veritable carpet. Isn't nature remarkable? The mind of man can conjure beauty in so many forms, but nature so often surpasses even the greatest of artists," Miriam, Duchess of Lancaster said, as she gazed around her at the sea of purple flowers, spreading out across the woodland, through which she and her husband, Ralph, were walking.

The duke nodded and smiled at her, the two of them walking hand in hand together.

"I suppose it's why they call it Bluebell Woods," he said, and Miriam blushed.

"Don't tease me, Ralph. You know what I mean. The bluebells return every year. They lie dormant beneath the earth, waiting to burst forth in spring. It's my favorite time of the year. I'm so glad Teresa lives here. I can hardly believe it's been twenty years since we first encountered one another right in this very place," Miriam said, shaking her head, as she looked around her with a smile on her face.

They had come in sight of a folly, built by some distant ancestor of Ralph. It was overgrown now, clad with creeping ivy, but had once been a fine impression of a Greek temple, built in miniature, with steps leading up to a marbled entrance. Surrounded by the carpet of bluebells, it made for a pretty sight, and Miriam and Ralph had many happy memories of moments shared amidst this picturesque setting.

"A long time passed," Ralph said, smiling at Miriam, who shook her head.

"And now to think of William and Maximilian, both grown-up young men, setting out into the world. I can hardly believe it," Miriam replied.

"Me, neither. To think we weren't much older than they are when all this…well, we shouldn't dwell on the past. But twenty years since my brother died, twenty years of being the Duke of Lancaster, twenty years of marriage…" he said, slipping his arm around Miriam, who rested her head on his chest.

"But no regrets, Ralph?" she said, looking up at him, and he shook his head and smiled.

"No regrets. Not a single one. It's easy to regret moments, but looking back over the course of our lives…no, I wouldn't change a single moment of the time we've had together. I love you as much today as I did then – more so, in fact," he said, and he leaned down to kiss her.

For a few moments, they stood in silence, savoring the peace of the woodland, where a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees, and a chorus of birds was singing a chorus to the spring.

"Come now, we mustn't be late. I promised Teresa we'd be there in time for tea – and before William gets home," Miriam said, taking Ralph's hand, and urging him on along the path past the folly.

They were on their way to visit Teresa, the maid who had fallen in love with Ralph's brother, the previous Duke of Lancaster, and whose child, William, had been born shortly after the untimely death of his father, twenty years previously. She lived in a cottage on the edge of Bluebell Woods, some five miles from Burnley Abbey, supported by a modest pension from the estate. Miriam and Teresa were the closest of friends, and whilst their outward lives were very different, they shared a deep affinity, not least through their sons who, though cousins, had never known the truth of the past.

"I hope Teresa won't mind my having made arrangements for William," Ralph said, as they hurried on through the woodland towards Teresa's cottage.

"She's always wanted what's best for him, and he's always known of our fondness for him. It's no secret you've helped him in his education – just as you've helped so many others on the estate. Why shouldn't you pay heed to his prospects now? You're in a position to make introductions on his behalf. I've talked to her. She's grateful for all we've done," Miriam replied.

William knew nothing of his familial relationship with the Duke of Lancaster. Miriam and Ralph were William's godparents, but he did not know they were also his aunt and uncle. It had been decided twenty years ago to keep the matter a secret, both from William and his cousin, Maximilian – named in honour of the former duke, and William's father.

William had never openly questioned Ralph's kindness towards him in paying for his education and seeing him taken care of. The duke had been careful to extend his philanthropy to others, and there were several young men on the estate who owed their good start in life to Ralph's generosity.

"I know she is, but I worry she might find this a step too far," Ralph replied, as they came in sight of Teresa's cottage.

It was a pretty dwelling, whitewashed stone and a thatched roof, built in a clearing of the forest, and surrounded by a garden in which Teresa grew vegetables to sell at the nearby market. She took in mending, too, and her pension from Ralph provided a modest income. Teresa herself was standing at the door as they approached, and she smiled, waving to them as they emerged from the trees.

"You're just in time for tea. I've the kettle boiling, and I've just buttered the bread," she said, beckoning them inside.

Miriam greeted Teresa with a kiss. Her sister, Clare, was married to the Earl of Wingate, and lived in Derbyshire. She rarely saw her, and was glad to have Teresa close at hand – they were as much friends as sisters.

"You needn't have gone to any trouble on our behalf," Miriam said, stopping into the parlor, where a fire burned in the hearth, and the table was covered with checkered cloth and set for tea with a large fruit cake at the center, along with biscuits and currant buns.

Teresa's cottage was a far cry from the opulence of the drawing room at Burnley Abbey, but it had a homely quality to it, and Miriam always felt comfortable and at ease there. She sat down by the hearth, as Teresa poured the tea, and Ralph stood with his back to the flames.

"It's no trouble to entertain friends. I walked into the village with William this morning and went to the bakery," Teresa said, smiling as she handed Miriam a cup of tea.

"And his studies? Are they going well?" Ralph asked.

Teresa nodded. Miriam knew how proud her friend was of her son. He excelled in every pursuit, and his tutor, the kindly Professor Murray, who lived in the village, had often expressed his astonishment at the boy's learning.

"Professor Murray says there's little left he can teach him now. He needs to study elsewhere – there was talk of Oxford or Cambridge. But William doesn't want to enter the Church," Teresa said.

Miriam laughed.

"I should think not. Don't let him waste his talents in theology," she said, shaking her head.

"But what should he do? I don't know…it's not easy for a boy in his position. They don't normally…well, he's had a wonderful education. But he's not a gentleman, is he? Boys like him become hall boys in grand houses, or laborers on estate farms. But he's got a mind filled with other things – he wants to write books and make discoveries. I keep telling him, ‘William, you're not born into that.' You've both been so kind, but we knew this time would come. He's not who he's supposed to be," Teresa said, shaking her head.

She passed around the tea plates, and Miriam helped herself to a slice of bread and butter and currant bun. They had always known this day would come, even as they had known it would not be easy. William was the son of the previous Duke of Lancaster, though born out of wedlock, the matter of his would-be inheritance was questionable. No one – save a handful, most of whom were sitting in Teresa's cottage that day – knew the truth. It was Maximilian, the son of Miriam and Ralph, who was to inherit the dukedom. His cousin was merely a friend, and the son of a lowly seamstress who lived in a cottage in Bluebell Woods. In his childhood, it had seemed reasonable to educate the boy and provide for him, but Teresa was right – William had been directed in a way he could not hope to continue in, not whilst remaining at home with his mother, at least.

"Actually, Teresa, that's what we've come to talk to you about today," Ralph said, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down.

Teresa looked at him in surprise.

"Is that so? And what do you want to talk about?" she asked, helping herself to a slice of cake and sitting opposite Ralph and fixing him with a curious expression.

"I know it's not been easy keeping the secret all these years. We've all felt the burden of it. But I always vowed to do what I could to help William. I hope I've done so, and now I want to help him again," Ralph said.

He and Miriam had talked about the matter often, and Miriam knew the sense of responsibility Ralph held towards his nephew. Twenty years ago, Ralph had done all he could to help Teresa in her time of need, and he had never reneged on his word.

"And what do you propose?" Teresa asked.

"To give him the opportunity to make something of himself by independent means. We live in a world of new opportunities. Wealth isn't only for those who inherit it, but for those who create it, too. I want to send William to London, and offer him letters of introduction to various firms and businesses. With my name behind him, he'll soon find doors opening to him. But he'll be the one to make those opportunities for himself," Ralph said.

It was a sensible idea, or so Miriam thought. Ralph would write a letter of introduction for William, and pay his expenses during his first few months in the capital. With the education he had been given, and the name of the Duke of Lancaster behind him, William could look forward to a bright future. The question of who he really was would remain – Teresa had always told him his father had been a soldier, killed whilst fighting the French – but as to his future, it would be secured. Teresa now looked at Ralph and shook her head, as though in disbelief.

"I…it's a very generous offer," she said, glancing at Miriam, who smiled.

"It's not generous, Teresa. It's what was always intended. William deserves the help of the estate. It's in his birthright," Miriam said, and Ralph nodded.

"Miriam's right, Teresa. Think of Max – it's what he'd have wanted, short of William inheriting the title," he replied.

Teresa looked suddenly sad. She had never married, and still spoke of the duke's brother as though she could never love anyone as she had loved him. If Ralph's brother had returned from Corsica alive, the two of them would have married, and William would be the true heir of the dukedom.

"But that's the truth, isn't it? He should've inherited the title. He'd be a gentleman, but…sometimes I feel we robbed him of his right," she said, shaking her head.

Miriam reached out and took Teresa's hand in hers.

"It was never going to be easy, Teresa. But wasn't this for the best? He was protected, and there was Maximilian to think of, too. If he'd grown up knowing his cousin was his rival…it's better this way, surely," she said.

They had talked about it often, but it made no difference. A terrible secret lay in the past, one they had lived with for so long, but still gave cause for difficulty as to the future.

"I know it is, but one can't help but think…what might've been," Teresa replied, shaking her head.

"It's twenty years now – since Briar Heights, and Connor Edge, and threats to the dukedom. Didn't we agree it was all for the best back then?" Ralph asked.

Still, after twenty years, Miriam shuddered at the mention of the name Connor Edge, the land agent who had discovered the secret of William's parentage and threatened to ruin the dukedom in its wake. But his own treachery had been discovered, and he had been sent away in shame. Still, Miriam often thought of what had become of him, and whether he still held a grudge against her and the others.

"I know… I'm just being foolish. I never wanted Max's name to be sullied, and I never wanted to see the dukedom brought to its knees. He'd have wanted the secret kept, and that's what I've done. It's what we've all done, isn't it? No, you're right, and you're kind, too, Ralph. I'm so grateful to you for all you've done for William, and for what you propose, too," she said.

Miriam smiled, sitting back in her chair, and taking up her cup and saucer.

"I'm so glad you agree, Teresa. Won't it be exciting for him – London, the possibilities he'll have. I just wish Maximilian…well, Maximilian is Maximilian," Miriam said, thinking of her own son, and glancing at Ralph, who shook his head.

Maximilian was nothing like his cousin, even as he had been afforded all the opportunities William, too, had been given. But unlike William, Maximilian had not applied himself, and the prospect of inheritance had taken away any sense of ambition he had. His life was privileged, and he was wealthy – why did he need to work or make any effort to better himself? There were times when Miriam despaired of him, though she was pleased for William, who had turned every opportunity to good.

"I'm sure he'll find his way eventually," Teresa said, rising to her feet and offering around the plate of bread and butter.

"We can only hope as much. Still, it's William we're here to help today. I propose to make the offer to him this very day. He's due home soon, isn't he?" Ralph asked, and Teresa nodded.

"Yes, he should be here now. But you know what he's like. He stays for hours with Professor Murray, asking him questions, and then he idles his way home, dreaming of some new venture or idea. He'll arrive home with a dozen thoughts in his mind, all of which he has to right down," Teresa said, smiling and shaking her head, as she glanced towards a desk in the corner, piled high with books, many of which had come from the library at Burnley Abbey.

"Then we'll wait for him. It's no trouble, and how good it is for us to be together, we three. What memories we have," Ralph said, helping himself to another cake, and Miriam and Teresa exchanged glances.

"We certainly have plenty of memories," Miriam said, shaking her head and smiling, for they were memories she was glad of, and despite the difficulties they had endured, she would not change for anything.