Coming Home (11 page)

T
HAT EVENING WHEN Mr Pettigrew signalled he was ready to convey her home, Juliana decided to approach him on the matter of wages. It was all very well to say that he and Uncle Sholto had arranged things between them; she needed to know if she could purchase some aprons and perhaps a new dress. She was heartily tired of her old, worn clothes.

It was just as well she was thin, for with Tilly jam-packed between Mr Pettigrew and herself, there was very little room on the narrow carriage seat.

‘Mr Pettigrew,' Juliana began, when Mr Pettigrew had fussed and organized the reins to his liking. He was proud of his bone-shaking carriage. Juliana thought their journey might be faster and smoother if he spent more time feeding his weary, undernourished horse rather than dusting the seats of the cheap, seen-better-days old carriage.

She understood his reasoning. He had a carriage; therefore he was a gentleman. However, it would take a lot more than a carriage to make Mr Pettigrew a gentleman.

‘Yes, Miss Colebrook?'

It could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be said that his tone held more than mild civility.

‘I understand that you and Uncle Sholto organized my work at the infirmary, for which I thank you. But I need to know how much I am to be paid, and when. You see, I—' She got no further.

‘Excuse me, Miss Colebrook,' Pettigrew interrupted, his face as red as a beet. ‘You must allow
me
to know best when it comes to financial matters. Really, your upbringing must have been sadly lacking.' His voice rose. ‘You have constantly undermined—'

Tilly stared wide-eyed at the spittle on the man's chin.

‘Mr Pettigrew!' Juliana had to shout to be heard. ‘If you are referring to yesterday, then I stand by my actions. You had no right at all to enter the women's quarters without warning us first.'

‘You …' He gobbled, unable in his anger to get the words out.

She hastened to placate him. ‘I understand that you are the overall superintendent of the Hungerford Charities and I respect that. Of
course
you must inspect all the premises periodically. But in future you must let me know when you wish to examine the women's infirmary. As an experienced superintendent you will understand I have no wish to be summoned before the board of governors to explain away any errors in propriety.'

She gazed earnestly at him, peering past Tilly's pert little chin, willing him to calm down. To her relief he settled back in his seat, staring straight ahead between the horse's ears. Juliana exhaled carefully. Thank goodness she had considerable experience in dealing with recalcitrant males.

‘Hmm. Well, it is true you will have to attend the board's monthly meetings with me.'

Really? How interesting. Trying to sound like the dithering, helpless women he plainly admired, she whispered, ‘Oh dear. I hate meetings.'

Gracious! She had acted too well. For one second Mr Pettigrew's hand drifted from the reins and reached across Tilly to pat Juliana's knee. ‘Never fear, Miss Colebrook. I shall tell you what to expect and how to go about things.'

No doubt. Juliana struggled not to cringe away from him. Poor Tilly had drawn herself up as thin as a straw in an effort not to be touched by the man.

‘About my wages, sir—'

‘You will have to ask your uncle. I have arranged for him to receive your wages on quarter day as he requested. I'm sure he will see that you get your pin money,' he finished condescendingly.

Only by compressing her lips was Juliana able to bite her tongue. Her fingers curled and away went her intransigent stomach again. She would never see a penny of that money unless she went down on bended knee to her uncle. Her father had been like that. If her mother had needed money for any small thing, she had had to cajole and plead, even if what she wanted was intended for
his
comfort and even though the Ervedosas had supplied most of the income. Like his brother, Uncle Sholto did not begrudge spending money on himself. No, indeed. She had noticed his clothing was of the finest quality, likewise the appointments in his study. Yet her aunt was garbed in out-of-date, unbecoming dresses that even Juliana, with her ignorance of current fashion, could see were not at all the thing. And as for the household furniture – she had seldom seen such battered chairs in desperate need of covering.

Well, whatever Sholto Colebrook and Mr Pettigrew had decided, it
was
her
money. She sighed. So much for having a responsible relative she could trust.
Colly, how right you were
.

‘Here.' The rattly carriage drew to a halt at the gates of the Colebrook residence. Mr Pettigrew did not bother to drive them to the door. She hoped he would be more accommodating in inclement weather.

‘Thank you, Mr Pettigrew. Until tomorrow.'

He grunted in reply and she scrambled down, bunching her skirts in one hand. Yesterday Tilly barely had time to clear her skirts away from the carriage wheels before he had taken off.

They trudged upstairs, Tilly trotting behind Juliana, divesting her of her cloak and bonnet as they went. They must hurry. Their dinners were being kept for them in the kitchen and they were anxious not to upset Cook for it was well after six o'clock.

Juliana pushed open her door and tossed her reticule on to the bed. Then stopped dead. Someone had been in her room. Things were not where she had left them. Uncle Sholto had made it clear that she and Tilly would clean their own rooms. Therefore she knew exactly where everything should be. But several items on the rickety dresser had been changed around. The armoire door swung on its hinges in the draught from the open window. The cheval mirror had been angled to reflect the floor, and someone had seen fit to prise up a loose floorboard and then replace it.

She thumped down on her bed, shattered. What was going on? Had her uncle or aunt been sifting through her things out of sheer curiosity, or had they been searching for something specific? Her eyes travelled to the open casement window. The attic rooms were very hot at this time of year so she had left her window open.

But not
that
far open.

Perhaps it had not been her aunt or uncle, but a common housebreaker. She leaned out the window and peered downwards to see if it was possible for anyone to climb up to the third storey.

It was. And very easy it would be. The stout branches of an oak tree brushed against the side of the house, and an experienced housebreaker could have gained easy access. In fact, with a little ingenuity she could manage it herself.

Easing back down on to the bed she discovered she was shaking. How odd. She had survived many worse situations, yet for some reason this frightened her more than anything else. This was different. This time she did not know
who
the enemy was. How could she fight if she didn't know who her enemy was? Did he come from within? If not, why would a common housebreaker ransack her room?

She must wait and see if anyone else in the household complained about having their room turned over. It would be wise to say nothing in the meantime, especially if her uncle had perpetrated the crime. What could Uncle Sholto possibly hope to unearth in her room? She had no secrets. Perhaps it was just morbid curiosity. Or perhaps he had done it to prove he held the upper hand.

In which case she would pretend sublime indifference. She set her bonnet on the shelf. She would eat in the kitchen, then she and Tilly would wash out their rags and aprons as usual.

But when she went downstairs, Tilly wasn't in the kitchen. That was odd. Tilly was normally most attentive and eager to prove herself as a lady's maid. Juliana chuckled to herself. She had a maid, yet she ate in the kitchen, lived in an attic and worked for her living.

‘Cook, have you seen Tilly?'

‘The master came looking for her, Miss Colebrook. She's with him.'

Juliana dropped the spoon into her soup with a hot splash and, scraping back her chair, rushed upstairs to her uncle's study. Barely pausing to knock, she thrust open the door.

Her uncle was seated behind his impressive desk and Tilly stood on the rug in front of him. Her gamine face was distressed and her hands nervously twisted the ends of her apron. Sholto Colebrook's round face expressed smugness and superiority that slid like melting wax into an avuncular expression when he spied Juliana. ‘Ah, Juliana. I have just advised Tilly that now our household has expanded, the existing staff need some help. I have decided that once you become better established in your work, Tilly will spend her days helping Annie and James.'

‘But, Uncle, I must have a chaperon, particularly when coming home with your friend each evening.' Juliana tried to sound placatory, but he was probably left in no doubt what she thought of his friend. ‘Also, I understand there are times when I'll need a chaperon at the workhouse. And Tilly is invaluable at the infirmary.' She nodded to Tilly. ‘Thank you, Tilly. Have your meal now.'

Tilly scuttled out the door gratefully, casting an apologetic glance at Juliana.

The gloves were off. Juliana faced her uncle. ‘Please do not try to manipulate my maid, Uncle Sholto. It is not gentlemanly of you.' There, that should give him at least two things to think about.

A dark flush rose beneath his skin. ‘How dare you, young woman!'

‘No, sir. How dare you? Do you think I am some silly ninny to be used as you see fit? And while we are about it, I want to know how much I am being paid by the board of the Hungerford Charity Homes.
I am short of funds with which to pay Tilly and the carter and I need to purchase a few items for myself.'

Sholto Colebrook glared at his niece. ‘You, madam, have far too much to say for yourself. Mr Pettigrew will hand your wages to
me
each quarter day.'

‘So he told me. However, what neither of you has seen fit to inform me is how much I am to be paid.'

He tried to change tack. ‘Ah, you'd best let me handle all monetary transactions, my dear.'

‘Uncle Sholto, I handled all such transactions for myself when I worked in Porto. And prior to that, in Alexandria and Coimbra I handled all our money matters. Papa was sadly inept at that side of things, as well as a lot of other things,' she added.

‘Alexandria! Coimbra!' he spat. ‘Those heathenish places! I am not surprised Philip found the people there difficult to deal with. But you, with your mother's foreign blood in you, no doubt you are incapable of understanding—'

He got no further.

Juliana launched herself across the room and slapped her hands hard on his desk. Leaning forward, she came within two very uncivil inches of her uncle's face. ‘Uncle Sholto,' she hissed from between gritted teeth, ‘I may not seem like the ideal niece to you, but you are not my ideal uncle. And if you say one more word against my mother, her country, or her family, I shall know how to act.' She didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about, but the effect of her words was instantaneous. Sholto Colebrook shrank back from her and seemed to shrivel inside his skin.

He waved a hand vaguely. ‘No need to get testy, my dear.'

A coward, she thought contemptuously. ‘The Ervedosa family supported us for years. They even stood by us when some of my father's
discoveries
turned out to be fakes. I'm sure my father understood that applying to you for funds would have been pointless.'

He ignored her allusion to his brother's questionable dealings. ‘Oh, very willing to share, y'know. But I don't have the funds to give. Never did have.'

Juliana laughed. ‘You are
so
very like him.'

He took this as a compliment at first, then realized she did not mean it in a complimentary manner. ‘You've a waspish tongue, Juliana. It is no surprise you are unmarried.'

‘You will catch cold at that one, Uncle. I have had offers, but none to tempt me.' Not strictly true, but her uncle didn't need to know the truth.

‘No doubt you seek a paragon.'

Juliana thought longingly of Colly. ‘Oh no, not a paragon. I couldn't bear to live with a paragon.' She switched topics. ‘So, how much do I earn?'

He snickered. ‘You won't catch me out, Juliana. I've been pursued by the best debt collectors in the land.'

Good heavens! ‘I'm sure you have. I thought as much when we were kept standing on the doorstep the day we arrived. I suppose most callers are tradesmen dunning you for unpaid bills. However, I am your niece and I do not expect to be treated like a creditor,' she said acidly. ‘May I assure you, being the daughter of your brother, I am well used to debt collectors. It took me six months to pay back his outstanding debts after he died.'

‘Good Lord, child!' Her uncle looked shocked. ‘Never tell me you paid his debts even though he was dead! No need to do that.'

‘Oh,' she said drily. ‘I did not care what people thought about
him
, but the Ervedosa family is an honourable one, much renowned in Portugal. In spite of your dislike of
foreigners
, in Portugal it is the English who are the foreigners. The Ervedosas are infinitely better born than the Colebrooks.'

He stared at her. ‘You sound proud of your lineage.'

‘I am. In Portugal we were respected. Believe me, Uncle Sholto, Papa was regarded with disgust when it became known he had not provided for me. When my mother's friends discovered I intended to work in a hospital, they were horrified. Young Portuguese women are kept cloistered. '

Sholto Colebrook stared at his niece as if she were a changeling. ‘You are the very antithesis of what I expected,' he said at last. ‘Nothing at all like your father. You appear to have the temperament of a merchant. However, while you are under my roof, you will do as I say.'

Juliana smiled at him ironically. ‘Of course, Uncle.' She turned to go, then said as an afterthought, ‘By the way, may I have the key to the room I'm occupying?'