Virtue of a Governess (4 page)

“He’s a good man then, to go against everything for love.”

“Yes, or stupid. He lost many friends. However, he doesn’t seem to care.” Meg stretched and yawned. “After Belfroy’s first experience with women living on the streets, through no fault of their own, he became their champion, and that includes us lot.” She grinned. “He set up his former housekeeper, Mrs Eldersley, in this house and vowed to save as many women as possible.”

“How admirable.” Nicola felt awed to be rescued by such a noble man.

“He’s got more money than sense if you ask me.” Meg flounced to the door. “Fancy going to see a show tonight?” She called over her shoulder.

“You have no money.” Nicola rolled her eyes and Meg just laughed.

* * * 

Rain splattered their dress hems. The puddles in the road shone in the gas lamplights like spilt ink.

“We’ll not be fit to be seen,” Meg complained as they dodged a spray of water from a passing carriage.

“You suggested we walk,” Nicola muttered, shaking out her best skirt in the shade of emerald. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight and only did so to give Miss Burstall a rest from your teasing.”

“Miss Burstall is a-”

“Don’t say it, Meg.”

Tossing her head, Meg sniffed. “Well, she is. She delights in giving everyone cold looks and little sniffs of disapproval. What makes her think she is better than us?”

“I agree she lacks...compassion.”

“And most other human feelings.”

They rounded a corner and merged into a busier city street. Anxious, having never been out at night in Sydney’s streets, Nicola scanned the shadows for possible threats. Her parents would have been mortified about her walking the streets of a strange city at night.

Meg brightened at the growing noise and the people gathered in the front of a red painted building. “Hopefully, we’ll meet some dashing young gentlemen who will escort us home afterwards.”

“I should hope not.” Nicola raised her eyebrow. “I want no silliness with men, Meg Robinson.”

“There’s no fun in you, Miss Douglas.” Meg pouted. She peered at Nicola. “You should have worn more rouge, and why do you hide all your lovely chestnut hair under that net? If I had hair as lovely as yours I’d show it off!”

Nicola patted her chignon hidden in the black lace net. “I do not like rouge. My father said painted women ask for trouble.”

Meg laughed. “What would your father have said about me?”

Nicola covered her mouth with her gloved hand to smother a smile. She dreaded to think what her quiet, studious father would have said about her new friend. She shook her head. Meg’s red and black striped dress and rouged cheeks begged for attention.

They stopped outside the red building, situated between a Chinese laundry and a grocers shop and waited to show their tickets. As a working class theatre, the crowd, mostly made up of young men and women, was rowdy and ready to have a good time whether the show proved to be worth it or not. Gas lamps on either side of double doors filtered a dim light over the street. The queue shuffled forward and someone bumped into Nicola.

She stared around at the people closest to her; many dressed in rough working clothes. When Meg had said earlier that they should go out and see a show, Nicola had imagined something a little more tasteful. “Meg, I don’t think this is a suitable place…” Her words died in her throat as a gentleman stopped beside them. His quality cut suit of fine material and superior manner made him stand out amongst the crowd. He tipped his hat and smiled at them. “Ladies.” Behind him stood another gentleman wearing a bored expression.

Meg winked at her and then, with a coy smile, fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Well, good evening, sir.”

Nicola jerked Meg’s arm. “I think we should leave.”

The gentleman, his silver cufflinks shining in the streetlights, beckoned his silent partner over. “Nathaniel, come look at these two beauties I found.”

Nicola cringed at the term. She stepped back as the dark-haired man walked closer. His eyes narrowed. The lights threw his face into shadows, but she made out a strong jaw line before he spun away to mumble something to his friend.

Meg sashayed forward to the first gentleman, who had a ready smile for her. “And what brings such fine gentlemen to a backstreet theatre? Surely you have clubs to entertain you?”

“We certainly do, but sometimes, we like to rough it.” He offered his arm to Meg and laughing, she took it. “What is your name, pretty one?”

“Meg Robinson. What’s yours?”

“Tristan Lombard. What say we skip the show and go to dinner?”

Meg leaned against his arm. “I would say that is an excellent idea, Tristan Lombard.”

“No, Meg!” Horrified, Nicola couldn’t believe Meg’s forwardness. Every instinct she had balked and she took a step backwards, ready to go home.

The man named Nathaniel cursed under his breath. He topped Nicola’s height of five foot six by another six inches or more and glared down his straight nose at her. She turned away and tugged at Meg’s arm. “I think we should return home. Now.”

The light danced in Meg’s hazel eyes. “You may go, but I am going to dinner.”

“Meg, this is unseemly. Please, let us go home.” She lowered her voice. “They will think us to be nothing but strumpets.”

Meg threw her head back and laughed. “Maybe strumpets have more fun?”

Heat flooded Nicola’s face. “Meg!”

Mr Lombard bent towards them, his expression amused. “I shall take excellent care of her, Miss.”

Nicola sighed. How did she get into this mess? “I would rather you left us, Mr Lombard, thank you all the same.”

He chuckled, giving her a thorough looking over. “Have you no sense of adventure, Miss?”

Bristling, Nicola raised her chin. “Plenty. However, I also have an excellent reputation.” She turned to Meg. “I wish to return to the lodging house.”

“Lodging house?” Tristan’s eyes widened. “You live in lodgings?” He laughed loudly. “Maybe you could entertain us there?”

“I think not.” Nicola clenched her fists in frustration. This was getting out of hand. “Come, Meg.”

The other man, Nathaniel, cocked his head, studying her. “What is your name?”

She rounded on him. “It is none of your business.”

He shrugged. “If your friend insists on going to dinner with us, then maybe you should keep an eye on her?”

Meg clapped her hands. “Hail a hansom, Mr Lombard, and dine me!”

Furious, Nicola glared at Meg as Lombard hailed a passing cab and they bundled into it. She refused to speak as they travelled through the dark streets, not that she was required to for Meg monopolised the conversation with Mr Lombard.

On alighting at the front of an elegant building, Nicola tried to capture Meg’s attention only to find her elbow being taken by the man named Nathaniel. Glaring at him, she wrenched her elbow free and stared around. She didn’t even know where they were.

“You will come to no harm, Miss,” the fellow said. “I am a gentleman.”

She moved away from him as they entered the foyer and took a plush red-carpeted staircase up to the next level. Music drifted out from open double doors leading off the landing. A delicious aroma filled Nicola’s nose as she hung back in the doorway. Before her, lay the first class of Sydney’s population. Women’s jewels sparkled in the golden lamp light and the soft clink of crystal mixed with the chords of a violin player performing a solo.

“What is your name?” Nathaniel whispered in her ear. She shivered at the unexpected intimacy.

Turning her head slightly, she lowered her lashes. “What is yours?”

“Nathaniel,” he murmured with mischief. His deep sensual voice played with her good sense.

She swallowed. “I am aware of that. If you wish to engage in childish games then find another fool.” Nicola turned her shoulder to him, but he took her arm and edged closer.

“Nathaniel West.” His soft breath teased the fine hair at her nape.

The waiter took their outdoor clothing and ushered them to a table in the corner. Nicola ignored the curious looks she and Meg received as they took their seats. Thankfully a large palm grew in a wide pot near her chair and she sheltered behind it.

Nathaniel West sat opposite, lazy in his chair, completely at ease. His cool gaze surveyed her and she concentrated on her hands folded in her lap, but an inner voice told her to hold her head up and meet his gaze. He possessed thick dark brown hair, eyes of violet, and a splendid lithe body dressed in expensively tailored clothes. A muscle pulsed along his jaw. He was handsome in a cold calculating way and she wondered what would make him smile and relax. She noticed women peeking at him. He moved with the grace of a big cat as though every decision and thought was calculated. She shivered again.

He raised an inquiring dark eyebrow. “Well?”

Nicola blinked. “Pardon?” She glanced away at Meg, who laughed loudly at the patronising Mr Lombard.

A waiter came with an offer of wine. Nathaniel nodded without taking his gaze off her. “Miss?”

She straightened in her chair. “I am not what you think I am, nor is Meg, despite her behaviour tonight.” She rubbed her bare arms, naked without her shawl. “She is young and-”

“You are not?” he mocked her. The corner of his lips moved slightly as if a smile was something new to him.

“Meg is merely twenty-”

“You live in a lodging house. Have you no family?”

“That is my own affair and I will thank-”

“Are you newly arrived or were you born in this accursed country or, perhaps, you came in chains as a youngster?”

Nicola shot to her feet, scraping back her chair. Her action drew stares but she cared little. Placing her hands flat on the table, she leaned towards the horrid man. “You, sir, are no gentleman.” She squashed the intense desire to scratch his eyes out. Her ferocious look must have jerked some sense into Meg, as the younger woman hurriedly got to her feet, her laughter dying. Nicola pulled her away from the table and out of the room. Not once did she look back.

Out on the street they drew whistles from drunk sailors loitering under a lamppost. Nicola jerked Meg closer to her side. “I should never have come to this damnable uncouth country! What does it have to offer me!”

Sullen, Meg slouched on the sofa, picking at the cushions. Nicola ignored her and read the newspaper. Rain lashed the windows and the fire did little to warm the main sitting room. The door opened and the draught made smoke billow out from the fireplace.

Mrs Eldersley bustled in, giving Nicola the thought that the woman never did anything slow, and frowned at the wispy cloud. “I’ll need the chimney sweep brought in shortly.” She paused to look at Meg. “What’s up with you, Miss Robinson, have you not heard from your last advertisement?”

“No, I haven’t.” Meg tidied her skirts and glanced at Nicola. “Although, I am certain Miss Douglas thinks I have advertised for the wrong position.”

“Oh?” Mrs Eldersley smiled at Nicola. “Whatever does she mean, Miss Douglas?”

“I have no idea, Mrs Eldersley.” She folded the newspaper and raised her eyebrow at Meg. Since their unfortunate outing the previous week, they had quarrelled incessantly about the foolishness of Meg accepting the gentleman’s offer.

Donald Eldersley, a quiet man who hardly spoke, entered, carrying a crate of chopped firewood. He nodded to them as he crossed the room and set the crate down. His barking cough made him the centre of attention as his wife hurried to attend him.

“Nay, husband, tell me you haven’t been out in the rain?” Mrs Eldersley threw her hands up in despair. “I told you we have enough wood down in the cellar to last the day, without you needing to venture out in this weather.”

He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and then slowly smiled. “Don’t fuss, woman.” He coughed again and, hunched over, stumbled out of the room.

“What am I to do with him?” Mrs Eldersley cried before running after him.

Meg rose and sidled over to Nicola. “Promise me you won’t stay mad forever.” She ran her fingers over the sofa’s material, drawing an invisible pattern. “It’s no fun only talking to Miss Downing for she is always crying and Miss Burstall is a hard faced-”

Nicola held up her hand, stopping her. “I promise not to stay mad forever, if you promise not to behave in such a way again.”

Meg flounced away to the hearth. “Oh, all right, I promise, but really, it was all harmless.”

“To start with, perhaps, but I am certain Mr Lombard thought of you as some sort of sport.”

“He was fun though.” Meg shrugged. “And far more entertaining than his sour friend who did nothing but glare the entire time.”

A tingle ran down Nicola’s back as she thought of those violet-blue eyes assessing her. Nathaniel West’s arrogant image had stayed with her and at odd times she found her thoughts straying to ponder him.

“I was stuck out in the bush for a whole year with no one to associate with.” Meg sighed. “You have no idea what it is like out there. The family stayed aloof from me and in my free time I had only the workmen to talk to.”

“Perhaps your behaviour with the workmen caused the family to remain aloof from you? Is that why you were sent back to Sydney, because of your association with labourers?”

Meg grinned. “At least they were fun.”