Virtue of a Governess (22 page)

“What on earth are you doing?”

Lifting her head, she looked at the tiny fellow, who was now stirring awake. “Don’t raise your voice.”

“Raise my voice?” Frances stood, hands on hips, her usual scowl in place. “I nearly had a heart attack when I walked in. Miss Barker said for me to come up, but she gave me no inkling of what I’d find.”

“It’s a baby, not a gargoyle.” Carefully, Nicola rose and gathered him into her arms.

“What are you doing with a baby?”

“He was born early this morning, to Miss Rogers.”

“So why is he sleeping with you?”

The baby cried as Nicola climbed from the bed. “His mother doesn’t want him.”

Frances’s eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you are to have him?”

“No, how could I?” She tutted, though something inside her wished she could. “He’s to be adopted.”

“Good.”

“No, it’s not good. He should be with his mother. Is it his fault that his father is a blackguard?”

“Stop being naive, Nicola, for heaven’s sake. You know how the world works. You should do, you’ve seen enough evidence of it.”

Pacing the room didn’t help soothe the baby who now was wailing lustily. “He must be hungry.”

“Have you a wet nurse?”

“No. I’m not sure if Miss Rogers arranged for one…” Nicola winced as the baby’s cries became piercing. She didn’t hear the knock, but was thankful when Florence entered the room.

“My, he’s some lungs on him, Miss Douglas.”

“Florence, he needs feeding and I have to send word to the Walkers.” Warm wetness filled Nicola’s hand through the baby’s napkin. “Oh dear, he’s wet, too.”

“Give him here to me, Miss.” Florence deftly took the child and cradled him to her. “I’ll take him to the kitchen and see what we can do. Perhaps Mrs Walker can come today?”

“I’ll wash and change my clothes and then send word to her.”

Silence descended once Florence left with the baby. Nicola washed her hands in a bowl on her dresser. “I’m sorry I wasn’t prepared for your visit, Frances.”

“A baby arriving would disrupt the best laid plans, I should think.”

“I wish his appearance was under happier circumstances.” Nicola selected a pale apricot skirt and bodice from her wardrobe. “I wish something could be done for him to remain with his mother.”

“Wishing is for children, Nicola,” Frances snapped.

“Why are you in such a bad mood for?”

Sighing, Frances slumped onto the bed. “Forgive me. I am not fit for company. I should have stayed home, but I needed to talk to someone.”

“What has happened?”

“My mother has sent for Nat and I to return home. Our father has died. We only received the telegram informing us this morning.”

Amazed at the news, Nicola went to sit beside her. “Will you return to England?”

“I will not go. There is nothing for me in England, and my mother is ashamed of me and my views. No, I shall stay here.” Frances twisted her fingers together. “I’m afraid Nat might go though, and it bothers me greatly. He is all I have and if he were to leave…”

Nicola found it hard to breathe. Her stomach twisted like a spring. Nathaniel gone, for good? Her mouth went dry. “But he cares little for your mother.”

“True. However, he is her son, as I am her daughter, and there is always something inside that makes it hard to turn your back on them completely. Although Nat would refuse to acknowledge it under threat of torture, I believe he’s been waiting for the day when our parents would make amends for the hurt they’ve inflicted.”

“But he wants to make a life in this country. Your mother has your older brother for comfort.” She bit back the insane urge to shout that she wouldn’t allow either of them to leave.

“My older brother, Gerald, is worse than useless. It seems he’s married to a woman my mother doesn’t care for. Hardly surprising. My mother writes that my sister-in-law has no intellect, is as quiet as a mouse and cannot play cards well, that alone is a capital offence in mother’s eyes.” Frances grinned. “My mother is a diligent card player. One of the best female competitors in London, of her circle, of course.”

Unable to sit still, Nicola jerked up and paced the room. “Would he…I mean, would Nathaniel stay permanently in London?”

“Well yes, it’s very likely. The estate goes to my older brother, but apparently Nat and I haven’t been left out of father’s will, which we imagined would happen. Our father was an unlovable tyrant, but in death, he’s been fair for once. There are businesses and houses for us, and all manner of things.”

“But your brother left England for a reason. He wanted to start again in this country, to build a life here.”

“Heavens, don’t romanticise it, Nicola.” Frances gave a mock laugh. “Nat came here because it was as far away as he could get from our parents.”

“I see.” She didn’t see anything, she only felt ill at the thought of Nathaniel leaving.

“There’s nothing keeping him here now. He knows I’ll be fine, if a little lonely.” Frances pulled out her watch from her pocket. “Oh lord, I’m dreadfully late. There’s a rally on in Macquarie Street against the new Contagious Diseases Act.”

“What is that about?”

“Locking up prostitutes for examination. Oh, I can’t explain it now, I’m far too late as it is.” She kissed Nicola’s cheek. “Thank you for listening, even with all you have to deal with. You’re a dear friend.”

“You know I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

“I’ll come again soon. Good luck with the baby.” With a final wave, Frances scooted out the door.

Nicola gently lowered herself down onto a wooden chair by the window. She felt fragile, hollow. Only now that Frances had gone could she concede to the deadening pain that squeezed her chest. Nathaniel gone. How would she survive never seeing him again?

No, he cannot go.

He said he loved me.

His mother rejected him, she cannot have him back.

But then, she had rejected him also.

Why had this happened? The pain grew unbearable and she pressed her fist into her chest hoping to ease it. God almighty. No, she couldn’t…surely not… Did she love Nathaniel West?

How could she care for him? How could she overlook his drinking and whoring, his uncharitable views on women? How could she respect such a man?

But she
did
love him. Somehow there must be something worth loving within him for she was not the only person who cared for him. Frances adored him. He couldn’t be all bad, could he?

She wanted to smile at the relief of finally being able to admit what she felt. A tear fell onto her hands, and then another. What a cruel twist of fate, for it was all too late.

The baby’s cry reached her, growing closer. Quickly she wiped her eyes and went to the bed for her fresh clothes. She had responsibilities, duties to carry out. People depended on her. In her mind, she listed all the good things about her professional life. Yet, in her heart, she cried for the fool that she was. Nathaniel would go and she would remain and it was no one’s fault but her own.

Excellent shot, Miss Clarke.” Nicola clapped before moving into position to hit her ball through the hoop. She hadn’t played croquet for some time and was delighted that the latest governess to arrive, Miss Clarke, had asked if it was possible for them to create a croquet lawn at the side of the house.

Nicola’s aim was off and the ball missed the hoop. She laughed softly. “I need to practise I think. You are far too good for me.”

Miss Clarke, a small dainty woman of twenty-eight years, looked bashful. “My previous employers enjoyed the game very much and encouraged me to let the children play as often as lessons allowed. I’m afraid I rather have the knack for it.”

“Then we shall have regular games of it. I think we all need the exercise.” Nicola gestured over to the other women seated on chairs around a table groaning under the weight of afternoon tea treats. Florence hovered around them, unable to sit still for a minute. Miss Barker was poring over the newspaper, reading out snippets to Miss Golding. Misses Shaw and Peacock were chatting, sipping their tea and Miss Bent was reading a book of poetry.

Smiling, Miss Clarke played another shot. “The women here are most kind. We are lucky to have such comfortable accommodation.”

“Indeed.” Nicola looked up at the bedroom windows of the upper floor and noticed Penny standing at her window, watching them. The Walkers had collected the baby boy four days ago without Penny even seeing the child. Nicola sighed, recalling how upset she was when the Walkers left the house, carrying their new son. Thankfully, they seemed nice people, but she couldn’t help feeling the loss of the baby.

“Miss Douglas, who is that man?” Miss Clarke nodded towards their visitor.

Nicola’s heart somersaulted as Nathaniel stopped to announce himself to the women at the table. “That is Mr West.” She drew in a laboured breath. “He is a friend of mine.” A friend? She groaned inwardly at the statement. Their kind of friendship was such unlike any she’d experienced before. How
did
one turn friendship into something else, especially when one has refused the other before?

While Nathaniel chatted with ease to the women, she watched him unobserved. Once again, he’d filled her with confusion. In equal turns he’d been able to anger, frustrate and irritate her, yet at the same time captivate and fascinate her. Now his presence brought out other emotions, concern, secret joy at his nearness and fear - fear of him leaving. At last he turned in her direction and lifted his hand in acknowledgment.

She waved back, placing the croquet mallet on the ground. “Excuse me, Miss Clarke.” Suppressing the urge to hurry, she walked sedately towards him and he met her halfway.

“Good day, Nicola.” His tender gaze nearly brought her to her knees.

For a moment she simply looked at him, absorbing his presence. “How are you, Mr West?”

“Well, and you?”

“Fine, as you see.” She wished she’d worn one of her better dresses today. Not expecting visitors she’d worn her plain grey and didn’t even have a lace collar on to brighten it. She despaired over her hair, which was bundled up into an unbecoming net because it needed washing.

He looked towards the half built dwellings further down the back of the property. “Would you care to show me the progress?”

“Certainly.” She flashed a brief smile and fell into step with him. “How is Frances?”

“She was well enough when I shared breakfast with her this morning.”

“Good.”

“She told you about our family news.”

“Yes. I was sorry to hear it.” Nicola skirted a tree, glad its shade hid her hot face. “My sympathies to you.”

“Thank you.” They headed down the slope and into the chaos of the building site.

Swallowing, her mouth dry, she tried to think of something witty to say and failed miserably. He looked so well today, dressed superbly in a dark suit. How had she failed to see the real man beneath the cold exterior? Her father had said many times that she was a good judge of character. Why then, did she allow herself to think of Nathaniel as shallow, heartless even? One only had to see how he loved his sister to know he was deeper than first imagined.

“How many governesses do you care for here at the moment?” Nathaniel stopped to study the closest building, the shell of the schoolhouse.

She focused on her role as manageress, something she could do without thought, or damage to her heart. “Oh, er, nine, but I’ve received word from two others. They arrive next week and Flor-Miss McIntyre’s two younger sisters from Scotland will be joining us when their ship docks next month. But a lady in need could knock on the door at any time. We never turn anyone away.”

“When do you expect to have these buildings finished?”

She frowned at the debris of the work site. Strewn timber, stone, piles of sand and mortarboards littered the yard. “I’m not sure. Hopefully before the middle of winter.”

“Has worked stopped because of the lack of funds?”

“No, no, definitely not. The board has been most generous.”

“Then why aren’t the workmen here?”

“They stopped yesterday because of the rain and today they simply didn’t turn up.” She nibbled her top lip, feeling responsible that the men weren’t doing as they should.

“Are you confident in the men’s ability?”

“Um…yes…” She shrugged. “I’ve never managed the construction of buildings before. Perhaps they do take some advantages, I’m not sure…”

Folding his arms, he planted his feet apart. “If you’ll allow it, I’d like their names. I’ll speak with them and see if we can speed things up a bit for you.”

“Oh, that is most kind.” Her heart did a little skip. She knew he wasn’t so bad. “Thank you.”

“I’d like to see it all settled for you before I go away.”

The happiness which had flooded her, now disbursed like water from a broken dam. “You mean to travel to England then?”

“Yes. In a fortnight. I’m busy tying up my affairs here.”

“I see…”

“As a patron of the Home, I thought I’d do as much as I can while I’m in the country. Once in England, I’m afraid other concerns will be my main focus.”

“Naturally.” She tried to keep her voice light. Now faced with the reality of the situation, one which she had hoped wouldn’t actually eventuate, she felt as though she’d entered a dark cave without a light. How was it possible she could end up wanting this man so badly it obliterated everything else? Why wasn’t she content to remain a spinster and be devoted to her work? “Do you hope to return to this country again one day?”

Nathaniel bent down and picked up a narrow piece of timber. “I don’t think so.” He inspected the wood as though it was the most interesting thing he’d seen.

Nicola kept her face passive, despite the need to howl like a baby. “Your mother will be pleased to have you home.”