Virtue of a Governess (12 page)

Standing, hands on hips, Nicola glared at the cook lolling on the floor, her legs spread wide and an empty bottle of gin nestled in her arms. The beginnings of a meal lay scattered across the table. “Mrs Nesbit, will you get up!”

“Can’t. Me legsth won’t work…” She hiccupped and laughed.

Nicola glanced at Meg who, having divested her outdoor clothes, came to stand beside her. “Mrs Nesbit is drunk.”

Meg sniffed. “Half her luck.”

“Meg!”

Shrugging, Meg headed for the hallway. “Let her sleep it off.”

“And have no dinner?”

“Who can eat anyway?”

Nicola gave the intoxicated woman a small kick in frustration. “You have no decency. Now get up.” When the cook fell sleepily to one side, Nicola cursed and stormed from the kitchen. In the study, she stopped by the window and massaged her temples. The day had been trying enough with Emily’s funeral without coming back to find Mrs Nesbit in that state and the maid nowhere to be found. Why did this country have such dreadful servants? They’d both have to go, but who’d replace them? She shook the thought away, not prepared to deal with it today.

A slight tap interrupted her thoughts and the door opened to reveal Mr Belfroy. “Ah, Miss Douglas, sorry to disturb you.”

“Not at all, Mr Belfroy, do come in.”

He stood just inside the door, his hat brim being mangled in his thick fingers.

Nicola frowned, for the kind man was usually at ease in her company. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“There is indeed, my dear.”

“Sit down, please.”

“I cannot stay…” He straightened, taking a deep breath. “I was wondering if you could manage a few more ladies here.”

“More?”

“I’ve found a small hostel down near the Rocks area. A disgusting place with a ruinous reputation.” Anger flashed in his weary eyes.

“And there are ladies there? Governesses?” She couldn’t help sounding doubtful, as the Rocks area was notorious for habituating the worst sort of people.

“Yes, at least one lady is, or was. She is in very poor spirits.”

“But you think there could be more than one lady?”

“I’m certain of two staying there. The-the other woman, Miss Rogers, needs immediate help. She is with child…Unmarried. Not a governess, but a lady’s maid recently arrived from England. Her virtue was stolen aboard the ship. There is an inquiry into the matter...” His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry this has come so soon after Miss Downing. I quite understand if you refuse-”

“Of course we must help them.” Nicola started for the door. “Give me a moment to gather my things.”

“You are a good woman, Miss Douglas.”

“Who can turn their back on those in need?” She smiled grimly, thinking of Emily Downing and how she hadn’t been able to help her. Pushing the thought away, she marched into the hallway. This was her job, her duty now. It was what she had agreed to do. Besides, keeping busy kept her mind off a certain handsome man with the eyes that seemed to burn through her soul.

In the carriage, Mr Belfroy gave her more details as they made their way through the poorest area of the city to the infamous Rocks area. “I do understand, Miss Douglas, your reluctance in accommodating more women. The house is becoming too small.”

“And we have unreliable staff, Mr Belfroy, to help us.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I have put my house up for sale and the proceeds will be used to purchase a more spacious house for you.”

Nicola stared at him. “Oh, Mr Belfroy, is that necessary?”

“You know our predicament, it is the least I can do.”

“But where will you live?”

The carriage slowed and Mr Belfroy opened the door to the sharp noises of the docks. “I shall rent an adequate apartment in town. My needs are small since I have withdrawn from society. I much prefer to have things this way. There is no point in trying to persuade me, my mind is made up.” He descended from the carriage and then helped her down.

Nicola gazed around in disgust. She had only been to this foreshore end of the Rocks once, with Frances, and had never wanted to repeat the visit. She was amazed at the difference a few hundred yards could make, for up on the hill, wealthy families lived in style. Yet down at the water’s edge, the worst kind of debauchery occurred. The fresh salt breeze from the harbour couldn’t remove the rot of human refuse. Mean little alleys criss-crossed the streets at this point of the harbourside. Docks and wharfs had long been established here, but with the flourishing industry came the lowest aspects of society, who frequented the public houses, brothels and opium dens. Effluent and general rubbish crammed the sides of the road, the buildings were rundown and in various states of ruin. The smell of rotting refuse filled her nose, making her gag. How could anyone live in such conditions?

“This way, my dear.” Mr Belfroy took her elbow and guided her around the stinking piles of goodness knows what and into a laneway boarded by stone terrace houses rising up the steep incline. “The hostel is further along, and, if one can be generous enough to say so, it’s in a slightly better street than this one. Only, the carriage is too wide for it.”

She nodded, holding a handkerchief to her nose and prayed they wouldn’t be attacked and robbed. A mangy dog peed against a wall and from the opposite side of the street a rough-looking man emerged from a doorway and stared at them.

At the end of another dirty, neglected street, Mr Belfroy entered a two-story building. Its upper floor held a balcony from which hung copious amounts of washing.

Inside the dimly lit corridor, they made for a decaying staircase. At the top, a man and a woman, barely decently covered, leaned against a wall chatting. Nicola glared, fighting the urge to speak her mind about their slovenly ways, but Mr Belfroy turned left and she shuddered at the thought of being left behind. In another room a door was opened showing a couple kissing on an unmade bed. Nicola stared at the sensual way the man stroked the woman. Her stomach tightened for she immediately thought of Nathaniel West. Hurrying along, she blocked out other images and sounds coming from various rooms. It seemed the place was nothing more than a brothel.

The second last door on the right was open. Mr Belfroy knocked but the woman on the bed didn’t respond. “Miss Rogers, I have returned as promised.”

Nicola entered the badly lit room and crept closer to the rusty iron bed. “Miss Rogers, I’m Nicola Douglas.”

The woman, her eyes sunken and with dark shadows bruising the delicate skin beneath, turned to stare at her. “You must go away.”

“Why?” Nicola crouched beside the bed.

“Because I am bad, terribly bad.”

“I’m sure that is not true.” Nicola smiled in reassurance. “Come, gather your things. I wish for you to return home with me.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done…I carry a child.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“I was wanton.” Her face screwed up in misery. “He promised to marry me, but he abandoned me. I had nothing…He took my money, everything and left only empty promises. I hate him, but not as much as I hate myself for my weakness...”

“Come, let me help you.” Nicola aided the thin woman, dressed in rags, to stand. Her body was wasted from starvation, yet her stomach was large with child. Images of Emily clouded Nicola’s mind as she helped Miss Rogers out of the room. Could she really go through it again? Was she strong enough to bear this woman’s burdens too?

“I shall give the child away to the orphanage,” Miss Rogers murmured, slipping her feet into scuffed shoes. “You will help me to do that?”

“Yes.” Nicola aided her to the door, filled with despair for this poor woman.

“Thank you. Then I may start again, move away... I always wanted to visit Africa, or even India... Yes, that is what I’ll do.” Decision made, Miss Rogers breathed a deep sigh and sagged against Nicola as though the act of talking had taken her last strength.

Mr Belfroy stepped forward and took Miss Rogers by the waist and half carried her. “I’ll take her down to the carriage and then return for you. Miss Barker’s room is the next room along.”

Nicola left them and headed down the dark silent corridor. She tapped on the door and it was wrenched opened by a tiny woman dressed entirely in black, holding her bag. “Miss Douglas?”

“Yes.”

“Oh good, Mr Belfroy mentioned you might come for me. I’m Miss Georgina Barker. I’ve been waiting, you see, praying you would come for me. Mr Belfroy did speak of me?”

“Yes, he did. I’m here to take you back to the lodging house I manage.”

“Oh, thank you.” She bustled out of the room and slammed the door with a resounding bang. “Good riddance to this fifthly place. Once I’m in respectable accommodation I know I’ll find work more suitable than what I’ve been doing.”

“Which was?”

Miss Barker stormed down the corridor. “Needlework. Not that needlework isn’t respectable, it is, but I’m a teacher. I’ve been taking in needlework for the last few weeks, but then my glasses broke and I’ve been unable to afford to have them replaced and I cannot work without them. Sadly, things have rather gone downhill from there.”

Nicola had to hurry to keep up. “Were you originally a governess, Miss Barker?”

“Indeed yes. But now I plan to take the Teacher’s Certificate and teach in a government school. Mr Belfroy said he’ll pay for me until I have a position. The man is a saint indeed.” Miss Barker chatted all the way to the carriage and, once inside it, she smiled at Miss Rogers. “Cheer up, we’ll be just fine now.” She took Miss Rogers’s hand and held it all the way to the lodgings as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

* * * 

“Dare you not face me anymore, Nicola?”

Nicola looked up from her desk and frowned in surprise as Frances strode into the study. “Good day, Frances. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Is it?” Frances marched to the desk and threw her gloves on it. Today she wore her split trouser-skirt and also her scowl. Her hair stood on end as though she’d raked her hands through it numerous times. She looked like she was either ready for war or just participated in one.

“Are you upset at something?”

“Yes, damn you.”

Nicola slowly rose to her feet, dropping her pen onto the books she’d been working on. “What have I done?”

“You refused my brother. Why, I’ll never know.” She paced the room. “For two weeks he’s been unbearable, far worse than usual, drinking and whoring, and I had no idea why until finally this morning he told me that you had refused him. I’m stunned beyond words that he even asked you. After all, marriage was never something he strived for, he was always happy with his little liaisons.”

Nicola winced and glanced down at the desk. She had made the right choice then. Mr West was totally unsuitable as a husband. Drinking, whoring… She felt sick at the thought.

Frances continued pacing, her movements jerky. “And you were the last person I imagined him to propose to. If he ever married I expected him to pluck a dainty flower from the highest rung of Sydney’s society, that would have been just the thing for him to do, something for him to throw back into mother’s face, since she’s done nothing but belittle him since birth, telling him he’d amount to nothing. Of course she was made correct because Nat did exactly as she said he would do, just to hurt her as she hurt him with her disparaging words.” She sucked in a breath. “But you... Now that I never could have believed…”

“Perhaps he thought by marrying me, someone beneath his station, would also antagonise your mother?” She swallowed past the hurt.

“No…” Frances shook her head. “This went much deeper than revenge. A flighty disgustingly rich colonial heiress would have been revenge on mother, someone who would even look down on mother as unimportant would have been revenge, but not you.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t understand it.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Why did you refuse him? Oh, I know he can be a bear at times, but underneath his prickles and bad moods he is a good man.”

“I-”

“I’ve never seen him in such a state. Even when our parents treated us worse than a farmer does his animals, he’d always put on a brave face to the outside world. But now…” She paused near the window and stared out. “He said he’d buy you a house. Nat never buys anything for anyone. He takes care of himself first, and me too, of course, but he’s always kept everyone else at a distance.” She slowly turned and her eyes filled with tears. “It breaks my heart to see him so…without hope…”

Nicola swallowed past the tightness in her throat. She’d never seen Frances emotional before. “I’m sorry, Frances.”

“But why did you refuse him?”

“You said it yourself. I’m hardly the perfect choice, so much so that even you cannot believe it to be true.”

“Never mind me. You didn’t reject him because of me. So why did you?”

Nicola held her hands out and shrugged. “There are many reasons really. I like what I do here. I don’t think I could bend to a man’s will now. I enjoy my freedom and independence. I never thought I would marry. I have my work.”

“But don’t you want a family of your own?”

“Yes…perhaps. I have dreamed of it occasionally, but I don’t think being a wife and making calls will fulfil me for the rest of my days, Fran. And no man, no matter how good a husband, will allow his wife to work all the time as I do, as
you
do.”

“Nat is unlike most men.”

“Your brother and I are very different people. He hardly knows me. Will he contend with me helping those less fortunate for I will not give it up.”

Frances sniffed and shrugged in a most unbecoming way, like a little lost boy.

At her fragile stance, something rarely seen with Frances, Nicola’s heart melted. She crossed the floor and held her friend tight. “You know I’d adore having you as a sister, but I believe your brother would ask for more than I can give him. He’d want his wife to be his social equal, which I’m not and never will be.”

Nodding, Frances pulled away. “I understand, naturally I do, for I am the same. No man will put up with me and my actions and beliefs. Are you certain though, that rejecting him was the right thing to do?”