Virtue of a Governess (30 page)

“Stuff and nonsense, Nicola West.” Fran sat straighter in her chair. “Just because you are happily married, don’t you dare think you can turn into one of those matchmakers we both detest.”

Nicola smothered a chuckle. Fran’s denial said so much. From what she knew of John Lawson, he was a sensible man in his mid thirties, never married and took over his father’s bakery when he died in a cholera outbreak some ten years ago. Nathaniel had gained this information when she happened to mention to him that Frances was calling in at the bakery most days.

“Did you have any visitors today?” Frances asked, relaxing her stiff posture.

“Yes, ladies from the Home.” The humour left Nicola as she recalled the visit this morning. “Sadly Mrs Patterson is ill with a bad chest and Doctor Armitage fears she won’t recover. Florence has found a position for one of her sisters. Fiona is to be an apprentice seamstress in George Street. Miss Peacock has gained a situation in Goulburn and two more ladies have arrived.”

“And the orphanage?”

“We now have five children, all siblings. Their parents died, both drowned in a boating accident last Sunday. Apparently they went out fishing and the recent bad weather has churned the sea up most considerably. The boat, well hardly a boat, nothing more than a little wooden skip Florence said. Anyway, it overturned and they were lost.” She tapped the newspaper on her lap. “There is mention about it on page six.”

“How tragic.”

“Indeed.” Nicola folded away the newspaper. “I miss being at the Home. Oh, I know it is well run by Florence, the woman is exceptional. But I like being there, doing my bit. The charity board met last Tuesday and I should have been there. I’m feeling rather disconnected. First, because of my wedding and being in the country, and now this injury. Everything is going on without me.”

“You’ll be back there soon enough.” Frances smiled.

“That’s just it. I don’t think I will be. At least not all the time as I used to be.”

“You mustn’t think like that. Doctor Armitage said you’ll recover properly in a few weeks and your life will be as it was before.”

“Not entirely.”

As the clock on the mantle struck the hour of four, the parlour door opened and Mrs Rawlings sailed in bearing the tea tray. Behind her followed Agnes with another tray full of cakes and biscuits. “Here we are, Madam, a lovely cup of tea for you and Miss West.”

Bemused, Nicola gently swung her legs down from the sofa and winced at the tightness it caused in her side. “I didn’t order tea, Mrs Rawlings.”

“I know, Madam. Mr West said this morning I was to keep you supplied with tea and light food to speed your recovery.”

“Did he now?” She shook her head at his thoughtfulness. She had a feeling he’d never relax again.

The housekeeper placed the tray on the low table in the middle of the room and stepped back so Agnes could do the same. ‘Will I pour, Madam?”

Frances leaned over and picked up the pot. “No, thank you, Mrs Rawlings, I’ll do it.”

“Very good, Miss.” Mrs Rawlings ushered Agnes out and closed the door.

“She’s a good housekeeper, Nicola.”

“Yes, we are lucky to have her.”

Frances passed the teacup and saucer to her, her expression quizzical. “What did you mean that your life wouldn’t be as it was before?”

Nicola took a deep breath, not knowing whether she should part with her new-found secret. In the end, she couldn’t resist. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Need you ask?” Frances leaned back in her chair, the tea forgotten.

“You’ll not have to keep it for long, only until Nathaniel comes home.”

“How intriguing, do tell.”

“Doctor Armitage was here this morning and he examined me because I...”

“Oh, Nicola, please don’t tell me you have something seriously wrong with you? I couldn’t bear it.”

“No, let me finish.” She reached over and took her dear friend’s hand. “I asked him to come because I…I thought I might be with child.”

Frances’s grey eyes grew wide. “A child?”

Nodding, Nicola waited, hoping she’d be happy for her. “Doctor Armitage confirmed it.”

“A baby!”

“Yes. I can barely believe it myself. Wishing and hoping for a child is different to actually achieving it and I must admit I’m a little scared as well as delighted.”

Tears filled France’s eyes. “I’ll be an aunt. Oh, Nic.” She jumped up and hugged Nicola, laughing and crying. “This is wonderful, thrilling news. A baby in the family.”

“Nat will be pleased, I hope.”

“Pleased?” Frances clapped, joy radiating from her face. “He’ll be like a dog with two tails. He’s wanted children, wanted to be a father, more so since meeting you.”

“I’m going to tell him tonight.”

“Yes, do. After all that’s happened, he’ll be overjoyed.” Frances sat back in her chair when the door opened, her look of happiness fading as Nat walked in. His face was pale and anxious.

“Nathaniel? You’re home earlier than I expected.” A shiver of fear ran down Nicola’s back. “What is it?”

He held up his hand, showing a yellow piece of paper. “A telegram came to my office, from Melbourne.”

“And?” France frowned. “Why is it affecting you so much? Is it bad news?”

“That depends on your opinion.” He gave a brief sad smile. “It’s from our mother.”

“Mother?”

Nathaniel sighed deeply, at this moment looking his thirty-four years. “Her ship, the
Ira Jayne
docked in Melbourne to disembark some of its passengers and Mother thought she’d take the opportunity to warn us of her impending arrival.”

Nicola looked from one to the other, their shock mirroring each other. One part of her wanted to say, it is only your mother, but the other side of her, the sensible part, knew that such words were useless. Nathaniel and Frances had both told her stories from their childhood concerning their parents. Tales, which were far from the happy reminiscences they should be.

How was she going to accept a woman, her own mother-in-law, into her home when she’d been responsible for such hurt towards two people she loved so dearly?

“She cannot come, Nat.” Frances’s wooden tone hung heavy in the air.

“We cannot stop her now, Fran. She is on her way and will arrive by the week’s end.”

“Then meet the ship when it docks and tell her to return to England.”

Nicola gave Fran a sympathetic smile. “That is impossible, Fran. I doubt that she will agree to that after journeying for over a month or more.”

“Then she can stay in a hotel.” Frances jumped to her feet. “She can stay with the very devil if she wishes, but she cannot stay here!”

“And how will that look to people?”

“I don’t care.”

Nicola rubbed her temples, trying to think of a solution. “It will be expected that she comes to this house. As her daughter-in-law, I am expected to care for her needs. I won’t be accused of ignoring her and not doing my duty.”

Frances paced, glaring at first Nat and then back at Nicola. “You don’t know her. You don’t know how she corrupts your mind without you realising it.”

“Calm down, Frances.” Nat sighed. “You haven’t seen her for nearly three years and I haven’t for five. Father’s passing might have changed her.”

“Nathaniel’s right, Fran.” Nicola nodded. “We have to give her a chance.”

Nat looked at her and she held out her hand to him, which he gratefully took. “I’m sorry, my darling.” He kissed the top of her head. “This was the last thing I expected.”

“There is nothing for you to apologise for, my love. It is hardly your doing.” She placed his palm against her cheek. “We shall weather it. Besides, she may have changed. Wouldn’t that be splendid?” She forced a smile, hoping it would be so.

Later that night, while snuggled together in bed, watching the shadows on the wall dance, Nicola felt Nathaniel’s long sigh. “You must not worry.”

He caressed her thigh lightly, careful not to touch the bandages on her hip. “I cannot help it. That she should come here, to the one place where I am happy, just pains me.”

“If she has never been close to you or Fran, then why does she come?”

“Only my mother can answer that. She delights in playing games. Likely she became bored at home, or perhaps curiosity overcame her when she received my letter containing the news of our engagement. I haven’t written to her since February and I wondered why she didn’t respond. Now I know. Instead of writing she decided to travel here instead and see for herself how Fran and I get on.” He moved his legs restlessly and the thick white blankets rippled in the moonlight streaming through the windows. A small fire glowed in the grate behind the protective screen.

Nicola, her arms wrapped around his waist, marvelled at how one woman could cause this upset to her own children. Her hand strayed to her stomach, which held only the slightest bump. “You and Fran must try to put the past behind you. I’m not suggesting that it’ll be easy, but raking it all up will only continue the hurt. Perhaps your mother has changed. You must at least give her the chance to put things right between you.”

“And if she hasn’t altered, what then?”

A streak of devilment flared within her. “Then send her on the next ship back.”

His hand roamed over her stomach, joining her hand on the swell below her bellybutton. Nathaniel grinned. “All this sitting around has made you grow fat, my love.”

“Indeed I have, but that is not the only reason.”

Yawning, he buried his head into her neck. “Oh?”

She nestled in closer to him, loving the feel of his body against hers. “I believe your son or daughter may have something to do with it.”

He slowly raised his head to stare at her. “Do you mean…”

“A baby.” She smiled, pressing his hand onto her stomach more. “Our baby.”

His face lost all expression. “A baby…”

“It does happen, you know.” She laughed.

“I’m to be a father.” He closed his eyes and pulled her into his arms so tightly she thought he might break her stitches apart. “Oh my darling, wonderful girl.” He kissed her repeatedly. “I love you. Thank you. Thank you.”

She leaned back and threaded her fingers through his dark hair, tears blurring her vision of his wondrous look. Never in her life had she felt more secure and loved as she did at that moment. “I’m glad I make you happy.”

“Happy?” He kissed her again, a long slow kiss full of love. “I’m the happiest man alive. When?”

“Well, I haven’t had my monthly show since before we were married. Dr Armitage estimates around the end of October.”

“October.” Stunned, Nathaniel pulled back the sheet and went down the bed to put his lips on her stomach. “October.”

“Or early November. Babies arrive when they wish to.” She teased his hair, roughing it up.

He plumped up his pillows, laid back and then gathered her into his arms. “I will be a good father, not like my own, I promise.”

“I know you will. I never thought otherwise.” She softly tugged at his sparse chest hair, her head comfortable against his shoulder. “This might not be the best time to bring this up, but I must ask.”

He kissed her hair. “Ask what?”

“Have you heard anything of Lombard?”

“No, not yet. I’ve cast a wide net, but he’s as slippery as an eel. I’ve had reports that he’s gone into hiding, but I’ll bide my time. He’ll show his face one day.”

“You must never put yourself in danger, Nathaniel. We have a lot to be grateful for now, with the baby coming. I will not lose you to the likes of Lombard. He’s not worth it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He held her close, but she was unable to sleep, her mind dwelling on Lombard and her mother-in-law.

* * * 

Gingerly sitting down behind her desk at the Home, Nicola smiled at the women gathered in the room. She’d spent an hour with them in the drawing room, listening to their various pieces of news and now wished to get some work done. “I am perfectly well enough to sit here and check the accounts, ladies.”

Florence, who’d been out and only just returned, crossed her arms and didn’t appear satisfied by the statement. “Does your good husband know of you being here?”

“No, he doesn’t and what’s more he doesn’t need to know. I will be back in my parlour before he is aware of it.” She gave Florence a meaningful look. “And you aren’t to tell him either, Florence McIntyre.” Nicola raised a knowing eyebrow. “I am as capable of sitting here as I am at home.”

“You’re a brave woman, Mrs West.” Miss Bent smiled.

Florence glared at the women. “I hope to God you’ve not tired Mrs West. She’s been through a terrible ordeal and I’ll—”

“Miss McIntyre.” Nicola raised her eyebrows, hiding a laugh as the woman’s annoyance brought out her Scottish accent more thickly. “The ladies have been very good and aren’t deserving of your displeasure.”

“Even so, I’m sure you’d like some time to yourself. Come, ladies.” Florence steered them all out, except Miss Bent, who approached to the desk.

“I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private, if you please?”

“Of course.” Nicola indicated for her to sit down as the women filed out of the study. “Oh, Miss McIntyre?”

“Yes, Mrs West.” Florence held the door.

“Will you join me in half an hour, please?”

Florence nodded, her back stiff with authority. ‘shall I order you a tea tray too?”

“Bring it with you when you come back.”

“Very good, Madam.”

When the door closed, Nicola rested back in her chair and smiled at Sara Bent. The young woman had put on a small amount of weight, filling out her thin frame. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes, Mrs West.” Miss Bent sat on the edge of the chair, her shoulders rigid. “I wish to inform you of my impending marriage.”

Surprised, Nicola stared. ‘Marriage?”

“Yes. In the past two months I have been on friendly terms with Mr Greenwood, Frank Greenwood, of Greenwood Butchers in Macquarie Street.”

“I see. He owns a butcher shop.”

“No, his father does. However, it will be Frank’s one day. It is a good business and old Mr Greenwood is a widower and a nice man.” Miss Bent blinked rapidly, a sign of her nervousness. “Please do not think of me as being unscrupulous while you were ill. Everything between Mr Greenwood and myself has been completely proper and correct. We met by chance while out walking one evening. From there we have become friends and strolled in the Domain a number of times. He is a good man, Mrs West.”