Nell (9 page)

Lord Jarrow had looked blank. ‘Church?’

‘Surely, sir, you keep some form of worship?’

His lip had curled. ‘For what purpose?’

It had been Nell’s turn to stare. ‘To keep faith with your Maker, my lord. For Henrietta’s sake, if not your own.’

He had uttered a harsh laugh. ‘You suppose it will make a difference?’

‘It must always make a difference, sir!’

At which, his eyes had flashed fire. ‘Don’t preach at me, Miss Faraday! If you choose to genuflect and mutter for the benefit of the Almighty, you may do so at your leisure. But you will not inflict your meaningless prattle upon a creature who has enough to endure without looking for salvation to a merciless God who has long since abandoned the Jarrows!’

He had stalked away on the words, leaving Nell torn between shock and dismay. Thereafter, when she had seen his lordship at dinner, conversation with him had been strictly neutral. When Mr Beresford was present, he hardly spoke at all, allowing his brother-in-law to maintain the burden of conversation, which did nothing to alleviate the heavy atmosphere generated by the brooding silence at the head of the table.

Even during the day when she was in the schoolroom, Nell was oddly aware of his lordship, although she saw
nothing of him. But she knew from Mrs Whyte that he spent the better part of his time inhabiting that room in the adjacent turret, from which he had emerged the first day. The knowledge kept her from too frequently walking alone on the roof, but the need—either from frustration or a desire for fresh air—sometimes outweighed caution. The roof, moreover, afforded a degree of release from the sense of being shut in. Despite the isolation, it gave her an illusion of space not to be found in the castle rooms. Yet the knowledge of Lord Jarrow’s presence not far away was a deterrent. Nell welcomed her sessions with the housekeeper.

From Mrs Whyte she had learned that the Jarrows had been traditionally Catholic, another cause of disfavour in the eyes of the ruling Royal house. The Baron of Queen Anne’s day, the same that had purchased Padnall Place, had converted to Protestantism, but religious fervour had never afterwards been a strong point. The household, revealed Mrs Whyte, had fallen out of the way of attending Sunday Service at Collier Row a short time after the Jarrows had returned from London for good.

Against her employer’s express command, Nell was left with no choice but to introduce Christian precepts indirectly, only to improve her pupil’s behaviour. Deciding that the task of bringing Lord Jarrow back to God lay outside her province, Nell contented herself with her own weekly prayers—for the present. She could not help but be intrigued by the notion that his troubles had been of a nature dreadful enough to cause him to eschew religion altogether.

It was not, Nell insisted to a niggling conscience, vulgar curiosity that had led her lately to dropping into the kitchen a second time, when lessons finished for the af
ternoon. The housekeeper downed tools in her preparation of the evening meal, dismissing the handyman Grig without ceremony.

The fellow was a large man, with an expression of amiable vacancy, who took no exception to the manner of Mrs Whyte’s address.

‘Be off with you, now! I don’t want you shambling about the kitchen and fidgeting Miss Faraday.’

Favouring Nell with a grin and a touch of his forelock, Grig withdrew, leaving the housekeeper to settle down with Nell for a refreshing cup of tea. She baked only once a week, but she always produced a cake or biscuit from her store for Nell’s delectation, and would not hear of it being refused.

‘There’s precious little luxury in this barrack of a place, ma’am, so you’d best take it where you find it.’

Nell protested in vain that she did not come for the treat. ‘I come for your company, Mrs Whyte, and I am only grateful that you allow me to disturb you.’

‘Bless you, my dear, ’tis a pleasure! A body can do with another female for company, and you may believe it’s as much my comfort as your own, for I’ve no one else bar Joyce, and I can’t say as I relish—I mean, I can’t say we’ve a deal in common.’

Noting the slip, Nell’s curiosity almost got the better of her discretion. Did Mrs Whyte dislike the nurse as much as she did herself? Nell knew she could not support a discussion about Duggan without betraying how she felt. She had best withdraw.

Leaving the housekeeper to resume her cooking, she returned by way of the hall and climbed back up to the schoolroom. It had become her habit to return there after
tea to tidy the place and make preparations towards future lessons.

Entering the turret room, she was brought up short by the sight of Henrietta lying at full stretch in the middle of the floor, apparently unconscious.

A
fter a brief moment of shock, Nell’s first care was to move quickly to kneel beside the motionless figure, feeling her hands and face. Her skin was warm, and a trifle damp. With perspiration? Nell took up the little wrist, pushing back the band and feeling for her pulse. It proved tumultuous and her concern grew.

Where in the world was the nurse when she was needed? Should not the child have been abed by now? To allow for extra time at lessons, Hetty’s nap was now a short one after luncheon, with the result that a further couple of hours—if the child could be induced to remain in the schoolroom without becoming fretful!—was spent with Nell. After which, she was usually so tired, Duggan averred, that she went straight off to sleep. She usually woke for an hour or so later in the evening, when she partook of a light dinner and a glass of warm milk before settling back to bed for the night.

Why in the world, then, had she been permitted to wander back into the schoolroom? Nell supposed that must be what had happened, although the girl was clad still in her blue school frock, but without the apron. Only why had she collapsed?

Searching the lovely features, Nell discovered them to be pale and without animation. The pert little mouth was open, and her breath came in long drags, as if she laboured to breathe at all. Nell became alarmed. The child was ill!

Her priority must be to get Hetty back to bed. Even as she slipped her arms underneath the girl, intending to lift her, Nell recalled the peculiarities of which Lord Jarrow had warned her, and wondered if perhaps this was a regular occurrence. Was there some certain method of dealing with it? It might be that she should not be moved. Nell recalled instances where the visiting doctor at the Seminary had deprecated any shifting of patients in some circumstances until he should have seen them. On the other hand, it could not be good for her to lie upon the cold stone floor.

Seizing up an old shawl, which she had taken to leaving in the schoolroom for those occasions when the spring weather proved uncertain, Nell tucked it under the child’s head and about her young shoulders. Then she darted through the outer doorway, and raced across the roof to hammer frantically on the door to Lord Jarrow’s study, calling for him.

‘My lord! My lord, pray come out!’

She heard movement within and stepped back as the door was tugged inward. Lord Jarrow’s features appeared, his brow black.

‘What the devil is the matter?’

He must have seen the trouble in her face, for his look changed and he stepped through the doorway. His voice sharpened. ‘What is it, Miss Faraday? Has something happened to Hetty?’

Nell breathlessly explained. ‘I found her unconscious on the floor in the schoolroom, sir. She feels as if she
has a fever and her breathing is tumultuous.’ Lord Jarrow was already on the move, and Nell sped to keep up with him. ‘I would have taken her down to her bed, only I feared to move her in case this had happened before.’

His voice spat, but Nell heard the tinge of fear beneath. ‘God send she has not had another of her fits!’

She said no more, but followed him as he hurtled through the schoolroom door, which Nell had left open in her haste. Almost she cannoned into Lord Jarrow as he stopped short. There was an instant of silence, and then he turned on her.

‘Where is she?’

Was he blind? ‘There, between the desks.’

Jarrow stepped to one side, and gestured angrily. ‘The room is empty, Miss Faraday!’

Nell pushed rudely past him, and stared blankly at the place where she had left Henrietta. ‘But she was right here!’ Her glance swept the room, and caught on her shawl. It was back in its usual place upon the back of her chair. ‘Impossible!’

‘What is impossible? What the devil do you mean by this?’

Her confusion found expression in a spurt of temper. ‘Do you suppose I would call you for nothing? I tell you, the child was here!’ Worriedly, she shifted to the inner door. ‘She must have woken and wandered off again, only—’

She stopped short, her eyes straying to the tidy shawl.

‘Only what?’

Nell shook off the puzzlement. It must be left for later. ‘Nothing.’ She pulled open the door. ‘Will you go first, sir, or shall I?’

Lord Jarrow gave her a narrow look, but elected to precede her, running lightly down the stairs. Nell could
not negotiate them without a stirring of dislike, but she followed as fast as she could, entering Henrietta’s bedchamber a bare moment after her employer, only to discover the little girl lying on her side in the bed, a down coverlet laid over her.

Confusion wrought at Nell’s mind again, as she watched his lordship step up to the bed and place a hand on the child’s brow. Could the girl have got herself down here in that state? And how in the world had she covered herself over—or even thought to do so?

‘She is warm,’ murmured Lord Jarrow, ‘but I do not think she has a fever. She looks to be sleeping peacefully.’

Nell tried to curb a rising indignation, but she was not wholly successful. ‘She was anything but peaceful a few moments since, I assure you, sir!’ She came to the bed and pressed in close, forcing her employer to give way. She leaned over the child, listening to her breathing. It sounded less heavy perhaps, and more even, but it was still a little laboured. She straightened.

‘She is a degree easier, thank heaven! But how in the world—?’ A solution presented itself to her questing mind, and her eyes flew to Lord Jarrow’s. ‘Could she have been sleepwalking, do you suppose?’

A grim look settled upon his features. ‘She had better not have been!’

Nell saw with dismay that his eyes had begun to smoulder. More to placate him than to stifle her own questions, she seized at the next explanation that offered.

‘Could Duggan have been searching for her and found her there?’

‘We shall soon find out!’

Lord Jarrow moved to the bell-pull and tugged it. Even as it crossed Nell’s mind that the nurse could not
be far enough away to heed a bell that rang only in the domestic quarters, she noted her employer heading for the door. He almost collided in the doorway with Duggan herself, who was bearing a covered tray.

‘My lord!’

‘What the devil is going on?’ The question was nonetheless fierce for the undertone in which it was addressed.

The nurse, however, looked taken aback. ‘Sir?’

‘Miss Faraday found Hetty lying on the schoolroom floor not a few moments since. How could you be so careless as to let her wander?’

Duggan blinked at him in a manner that brought back Nell’s confusion. Her puzzled gaze shifted to Nell’s face. ‘In the schoolroom, miss? I think you must be mistook.’

‘I am not mistaken! Do you take me for a fool?’

‘No, miss. Only Miss Hetty has been all the while in this room since her lessons finished, and asleep for the most part.’

‘But I saw her on the floor up there!’

The nurse turned to Lord Jarrow. ‘Did you see her, my lord?’

‘I did not.’

‘Then miss must be mistook, as I said.’

‘Do you suggest I imagined it?’ Nell demanded angrily. ‘Or perhaps you will tell his lordship that I made it up?’

Jarrow intervened. ‘Hush, Miss Faraday! You will wake Hetty.’

He eyed the flushed features of his daughter’s governess. No, she most definitely was not a fool. But he was at a loss to account for the discrepancy. The nurse was placing the tray on a table by the window.

‘Duggan, are you certain? If Hetty has been sleepwalking again—’

The nurse shook her head with vehemence. ‘That she has not, sir. I’d have told you if she had, as you bade me.’

‘But can you be sure she has not left this room today? After all, you were absent when we came in.’

Her manner was as respectful as ever, but Jarrow noted that inflexible look the woman always wore when she knew herself to be in the right.

‘I was gone but a moment, my lord. Her tray was on the table by the dining-parlour where Keston always sets it. I shouldn’t think two minutes could have passed since I left her side, sir.’

He was ready to accept this, but he had reckoned without the governess. Miss Faraday’s attractive eyes were sparkling and her features were tight. He could only admire the cool quality of her voice, although it was the deeper for the held down emotion he could hear beneath it.

‘I am neither fanciful nor stupid, Duggan. I would not have run to his lordship for assistance had there been no occasion for it. I tell you again, despite your explanation, that Miss Hetty was lying on the floor in the schoolroom. I had almost carried her down myself, but that I be-thought me of her peculiar condition.’

‘Well, I don’t know how that may be, miss, but her condition has been comfortable enough for my money.’

Jarrow left them to it, and crossed back to the bed. His daughter was certainly unmoving, but if her breathing had earlier been arduous, there was little sign of it now. He felt her limbs. They were warm to his touch, but nothing to be alarmed about. If she became any worse, he would despatch Detling to Collier Row
for the local doctor. The worst aspect of the matter was the resemblance of this occurrence to those involving Julietta. He had found her several times in odd places, and in just such a condition.

He found that the argument, which had murmured on in the background, had dulled. He turned. ‘If she is feverish, call me at once. I will reserve sending for the doctor until tomorrow. If she is still warm to the touch, or she does not wake betimes, I shall despatch Detling for him. You had best remain with her tonight, Duggan.’

The nurse curtsied her acquiescence, and Jarrow did not doubt of being obeyed. With Miss Faraday, however, he had no such comforting reflection. She was looking like a thundercloud! He must make an effort to forestall further pointless discussion.

‘This incident had best be forgotten. No one knows the truth of it save Henrietta herself, and since she has been asleep throughout, that is unlikely to help us.’

Nell bridled. Best forgotten? Not if she had anything to do with it! The smug look on the features of the nurse could not but infuriate her further, but it was no use talking. The woman clearly believed her own version of events. Lord Jarrow, on the other hand, was another matter. For some reason, it was unbearable to allow him to think anything but that she had spoken the truth.

She followed him out of the room, and waited as he shut the door. The light was poor, but she felt his impatience as she detained him.

‘My lord, will you give me a moment of your time—in private, if you please?’

‘Is there any point?’

His tone was clipped, but Nell refused to be deterred.

‘For my part, sir, there is every point!’

She thought he sighed, but his face was inscrutable.

‘Very well, Miss Faraday.’

The parlour felt alien, and Nell guessed that it was rarely used. Certainly she had only entered it once before, upon the occasion of her arrival. And just as Lord Jarrow had stated, there had been no visitors, not to her knowledge at any rate. It was chilly, despite the warmer atmosphere outside, and there was no light beyond that which came in at the window.

‘Well, Miss Faraday?’

It was curtly said, and Nell was hard put to it to keep her temper. She held down the rising distress and spoke as calmly as she could.

‘Unlike my friend Kitty, my lord, I am not a person of lively imagination, prone to see things that do not exist. On the contrary, I pride myself upon being level-headed, and if I am to continue here, I expect at least to be given credit for my common sense.’

Lord Jarrow said nothing for a moment, and the silence felt as if it closed in upon Nell. By tacit consent, the confrontation was taking place by the table near the window, so that one side of his lordship’s face was in shadow. With the black clothes below, Nell received the disquieting impression of half a countenance, strangely disembodied. Like a portrait sketch, etched in charcoal—and singularly attractive. Her upset gave way to a feeling to which she could not immediately put a name.

‘Is that a threat?’

The tone was quiet, and very grave. Nell’s pulses gave an unruly jump. ‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘Do you intend to leave if I fail to credit you with common sense?’

He had moved a little as he spoke, and the oddity of his appearance vanished, leaving Nell vulnerable to consciousness that she had been taken at fault. She had no
intention of walking out! She was glad of the shadows in the room for her own sake now. She floundered over a reply.

‘No! At least—no, I had no thought of—’ She broke off, unaccountably annoyed. ‘Do you wish to put me at a disadvantage, my lord? I have been here three weeks without incident, and I am not to be frightened away by this! I meant no such thing.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You said it, however.’

‘I believe you are trying to evade the issue!’ declared Nell hotly.

A faint smile creased his lips. ‘Well, yes, I am rather. I wish you will not allow the incident to distress you.’

Nell was a trifle mollified, but it would not do. ‘How can I help but do so, sir? My integrity has been called in question.’

‘Not by me, Miss Faraday.’

‘Then you do believe me?’

Jarrow knew not how to answer this. While he could not see any reason why the governess should have made up such a thing, it was her word against that of Duggan. Unless the nurse was herself mistaken. He hesitated too long.

‘I am answered,’ the girl said dully.

He put out a hand. ‘No, you are not. Only consider my position, Miss Faraday. I am loath to dispute what you saw, but where is the evidence? It is possible that Duggan’s notions of time leave something to be desired, and that Hetty did indeed wander while she was absent from the bedchamber. But—’

Nell interrupted him without ceremony. She had remembered the shawl. ‘If it is evidence you want, sir, consider this. Before I left Hetty, I took my own shawl from my chair and placed it under her head. When we
got back to the schoolroom, it had been put back upon my chair.’

Lord Jarrow was frowning. ‘You said nothing of this before.’

‘In the light of subsequent events, I forgot it. I remarked it at the time, but we were in too much of a hurry to discover Hetty’s whereabouts for me to be troubling over it then. But it came to mind when you spoke of evidence. You cannot suppose, my lord, that the child woke from her stupor in such a sensible frame of mind as to be thinking about replacing a shawl!’