The Secret Woman (17 page)

“What you arranged should happen.”

“I have no notion of what you are talking about—so what could I have arranged?”

“That I should go. You've been worming your way into young Edward's confidence ever since you came.”

“But…”

“Oh you'll deny it. You're a liar, Nurse Loman. I know that. You want me out of the way. You don't like me, so you think that you can brush me aside, just like a fly.”

“Do believe me when I say I don't understand. I can't defend myself until I know the accusation.”

She sat down on a chair—a frightened woman.

I said gently: “Please tell me.”

“I'm to go,” she said. “Lady Crediton sent for me. She said she doesn't think I have the right methods for controlling Edward. I'm to pack and leave because she doesn't like people being here under notice. She's given me a month's wages in lieu of notice.”

“Oh…no!”

“Why do you sound surprised? It's what you wanted.”

“Miss Beddoes, I…I have never thought of anything like this.”

“Weren't you always implying that I couldn't look after the boy?”

“I never did.”

“He was always in here.”

“His mother is nearby.”

“It was you he came to see.”

“I liked him. He is a bright boy. It was nothing more than that.”

She stood up and came close to me. “You hid him this afternoon. You hid him in that cupboard. Yes you did. I know it.”

“Miss Beddoes, I did no such thing. Why should I?”

“Because you knew they were dissatisfied with me. You thought that would be the last straw, and it was.”

“I can only say that you are wrong. I should be angry with you, but I'm sorry, Miss Beddoes. I'm desperately sorry. Are you all right…for money…”

Her face twisted. Oh God, I thought, help lonely women. Surely those brought up in genteel poverty suffer most.

“I have my month's wages,” she said.

I went to the table and unlocked a drawer. I took out two five-pound notes.

“Take these,” I said.

“I'd rather die,” she retorted dramatically.

“Please, I beg of you.”

“Why should you beg of me?”

“Because you suspect me of something. I'm not sure what. You think I helped to bring this about. It's quite untrue, but because you have suspected me, you owe it to me to take this money.”

She stared from it to me, and I could see the look in her eyes; she was calculating how long it would last. As for myself, I was picturing her in some lonely lodging, writing for posts that sounded good on paper. I thought of arrogant and demanding mistresses—peevish old ladies who needed a companion; mischievous thoughtless schoolboys like Edward. I felt the tears coming to my eyes.

She saw them too and they were more effective than any words I could have uttered.

“I thought…I thought…” she said.

“That I had hidden the child? But what could I have possibly done that for? Don't you see it's all so far-fetched. Oh, I understand. You're terribly upset. I daresay Lady Crediton was…beastly.”

She nodded.

“Please, will you take this money? It's not much. I wish I could give you more.”

She sat down then, staring before her, and I put the money into the pocket of her dress.

“I'm going to make you a good cup of tea,” I said. “A nice sweet cup of tea. You'll be surprised how much better you'll feel.”

I put the kettle on. I was by no means as calm as I appeared; my hands were shaking a little.

While I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I told her that if I heard of any suitable posts, I would get in touch with her. In my profession, I went around quite a bit. I would not forget it.

She sipped the tea and when she had drunk it, she said: “I owe you an apology.”

“Forget this,” I said. “I understand. You have had a shock. You'll feel better in the morning.”

“I shall leave in the morning,” she said.

“Where shall you go?”

“I know a very reasonable lodging house in the town. I shall soon find something.”

“I know you will,” I said.

And when she left, I was sure she looked upon me as a friend. As for myself, I was certainly disturbed, but I had meant it when I said that if ever I heard of a post which would be suitable for her, I should let her know.

***

July
11th.
Lady Crediton sent for me today. I had forgotten how awe-inspiring she could be, for it was so rarely that I was received into the presence. She sat upright, her back as straight as that of her ornate chair, which was like a throne. Her snowy white cap might have been a crown, she wore it so regally.

“Ah, Nurse Loman, pray be seated.”

I sat.

“I sent for you because I have a proposition to put before you. I have had several talks with Dr. Elgin and he informs me that your patient's health is
not
improving.”

She looked sternly at me as though this was somehow due to my incompetence, but I was no Miss Beddoes to be intimidated.

I said: “Dr. Elgin has no doubt told you of the reason for this.”

“He believes that our climate is not good for her, and it is because of this that I have come to this decision. Mrs. Stretton is going to pay a visit to her native shores. If this improves her health, we shall know that it was indeed the climate here which was detrimental to it.”

“I see.”

“Now, Nurse. Two alternatives present themselves. She will need a nurse in attendance. We have no doubt of that. Dr. Elgin has a good opinion of your efficiency. Therefore I am offering you a choice. You may accompany her and continue to nurse her if you wish; or if you decide that you do not wish to stay with her, you will be brought back to England at my expense. If however you do
not
wish to accompany her, there is nothing to be done but terminate your engagement here.”

I was silent for a while. I had been expecting this of course, but I kept thinking of Anna.

“Well?” she said.

“Your ladyship will understand that it is rather a big decision to make.”

She grudgingly conceded this.

“I admit that it would be a little inconvenient if you were to decide to leave your patient. She has become accustomed to you…and you to her.”

She waited. The use of her favorite word “inconvenient” implied that she expected me to save her from that undesirable state.

“I do agree that I understand her,” I said. “But it is still a big decision for me to make.” Then I said suddenly: “Lady Crediton, may I put a proposition to you?”

She looked startled, and before she could refuse I hurried on: “I have been wondering about the little boy, Edward. He will presumably be with his mother?”

“Y—yes,” she admitted grudgingly. “For a short time perhaps. He is young and would come back here in due course, I daresay.”

“But he would go with her?”

She looked at me with astonishment. This was not the usual manner in which she conducted interviews with her employees.

“Miss Beddoes has gone,” I said. “I could not undertake to look after the child and my patient, but I daresay your ladyship had thought of employing a governess or nurse for the child.”

She was still amazed. She did not discuss the domestic affairs of the Castle with people whom, she considered, they did not concern.

I went on quickly: “It is just possible that a friend of mine might agree to take on the post of looking after Edward. If she did…then I should be delighted to accompany Mrs. Stretton.”

A look of relief came into her face, and she was too taken aback to hide it. She very much wanted me to go with Monique; and she had realized that after all she would be needing a governess for Edward.

When Chantel came to see me that day I was aware of how excited she was as soon as I heard the iron gate click and, looking from a top window, saw her coming across the lawn. She looked almost breathtakingly beautiful. She was so dainty and with her cape flying out about her, her feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground, she was like an illustration from
The
Golden
Fairy
Book
from which my mother used to read to me.

I ran down to the door. I did not have to wend my way now that so much of the furniture had gone. We embraced. She was laughing excitedly.

“News, news!” she cried. She came into the hall and looked round it. “Why, it's changed. It
looks
like a hall.”

“It's more how it was meant to look,” I said.

“Thank goodness some of those wicked old clocks have gone. Tick tock, tick tock. I wonder they didn't get on your nerves.”

“They've gone alas, for what is called ‘a song.'”

“Never mind. They've gone. Now listen, Anna. Something has happened.”

“I can see that.”

“What I want you to do is to read my journal and then you'll get the picture. While you do that I'm going into the town to shop.”

“But you've only just come.”

“Listen. Until you've read that you won't see the picture clearly. Do be sensible, Anna. I'll be back in an hour. Not longer. So get down and read now.”

She was off again, leaving me standing there in the depleted hall, the book in my hand.

So I sat down and read; and when I came to the rather abrupt ending of her account with her in Lady Crediton's presence making her suggestion, I knew what this implied.

I found myself staring at the few pieces that were left, and I thought irrelevantly that no one would ever buy the truly exquisite jewel cabinet, with its pewter and ivory on an ebony ground and its carved figures representing spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Who wanted such a jewel cabinet now, however beautiful? What had possessed Aunt Charlotte to spend a large sum of money to acquire something for which there were very few buyers in the world? And upstairs was the Chinese collection. Still, in the last weeks I had begun to see the daylight of solvency. I would be able to pay the debts I had inherited. It seemed that I might have a clear start.

A clear start. That was exactly what Chantel was offering me.

I could scarcely wait for her return. I asked Ellen to make a pot of tea before she left. She was not working every day now. Mr. Orfey had put his foot down. His business was improving and he wanted his wife at home to help him. It was only as a special favor that she came at all.

Ellen said she would make the tea and added that her sister often spoke very highly of Nurse Loman.

“Of course they think highly of her.”

“Edith says she's not only a good nurse but sensible, and even her ladyship has no cause for complaint.”

I was pleased; and all the time I was thinking of leaving England, of saying good-bye to the strange solitude of the Queen's House. Often people talked of leading a new life. It was a recognized cliché. But this would truly be a new life, a complete breakaway. Chantel was the only link with all that had happened.

But I was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps I had read Chantel's implications incorrectly. Perhaps I was indulging in a wild dream as I had on at least one other occasion.

Ellen set the tea on a lacquered tray; she had used the Spode set. There was that delicate Georgian silver tea strainer. Oh well, it couldn't make much difference now and this was after all a special occasion.

Ellen hung about for another glimpse of Chantel and when she had gone and we were alone in the house, Chantel began to talk.

“As soon as I heard there was a possibility of my being asked to go I thought of you, Anna. And I hated the thought of leaving you in this lonely Queen's House with your future all unsettled. I thought I can't do it. And then it all turned out so fortuitously…like the benign hand of fate. Poor old Beddoes being sent off like that. Of course she was quite incompetent and it would have happened sooner or later. Well then this magnificent idea came to me and I presented it to her ladyship.”

“In your journal you don't say what she said.”

“That's because I have a true sense of the dramatic. Don't you realize that as you read? Now if I told you, the impact would have been lost. This was far too important. I wanted to bring the news to you myself.”

“Well, what did she say?”

“My dear, two-feet-on-the-ground Anna, she did not dismiss it.”

“It doesn't sound as though she were very eager to employ me.”

“Eager to employ? Lady Crediton is never eager to employ. It is for those whom she employs to be that. She is aloof from us all. She is a being from another sphere. She only feels convenience and inconvenience and she expects those about her to see that she is in a perpetual state of the former.”

She laughed, and I felt it was good to be with her again.

“Well, tell me what happened.”

“Now where did I leave off? I had implied that I would agree to travel with Mrs. Stretton if my friend could come as nurse or governess or whatever it was to the boy. And I saw at once that she thought this a
convenient
solution. I had so taken her off her guard by my presumption that she had not the time to compose her features into their usual mold of stern aloofness. She was pleased. It gave me the advantage.

“I said, ‘The friend to whom I refer is Miss Anna Brett.'

“‘Brett,' she said. ‘The name is familiar.'

“‘I daresay,' I replied. ‘Miss Brett is the owner of the antique business.'

“‘Wasn't there something
unsavory
happened there?'

“‘Her aunt died.'

“‘In rather odd circumstances?'

“‘It was explained at the inquest. I nursed her.'

“‘Of course,' she said. ‘But what qualifications would this…person…have?'

“‘Miss Brett is the highly educated daughter of an Army officer. Of course it might be difficult to
persuade
her to come.'

“She gave a snort of a laugh. As much as to say whoever had to be persuaded to work for her!

“‘And what of this…antique business?' she asked triumphantly. ‘Surely this young woman would not wish to give up a flourishing business to become a governess?'

“‘Lady Crediton,' I said, ‘Miss Brett had a hard time nursing her aunt.'

“‘I thought you did that?'

“‘I was referring to the time before I came. Illness in the house is very…inconvenient…in a small house, I mean. And the strain is great. Moreover the business is too much for one to run. She is selling it and I know would like a change.'

“She had decided right from the start that she wanted you and the objections were purely habit. She merely did not want me to think that she was eager. And the outcome is that you are to present yourself for an interview tomorrow afternoon. When I return I shall tell her whether or not you are coming for the interview. I made her understand that I would have to persuade you—and that my accompanying Mrs. Stretton might well depend on your acceptance.”

“Oh, Chantel…it can't!”

“Well I daresay I should have to go in any case. You see, it is my job and I feel that I'm beginning to understand poor Monique.”

Poor Monique! His wife! The woman to whom he had been married when he came here and led me to believe… But he didn't. It was my foolish imaginings. But how could I look after
his
child?

“It sounds rather crazy,” I said. “I had thought of advertising to help an antique dealer.”

“Now how many antique dealers are looking for assistants? I know you're knowledgeable but your sex would go against you, and it would be a chance in ten thousand if you found one.”

“It's true,” I said. “But I need time to think.”

“There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

I laughed. “And you think this is such a tide?”

“I know that you shouldn't stay here. You've changed Anna. You've grown…morbid. Who wouldn't, living in such a place…after all that happened?”

“I have to let the house,” I said. “I can't sell. I never should. So much needs to be done for it. The house agent has found a man and his wife who are passionately interested in old buildings. They would have the house and look after it and do the repairs, but I should get no rent for three years during which time they undertake to do all that is necessary.”

“Well that settles it.”

“Chantel! How can it!”

“You without a roof over your head. Your tenants will do the repairs and live in the house. Of course it's the answer.”

“I have to think about it.”

“You have to make an appointment to see Lady Crediton tomorrow. Don't look alarmed. It wouldn't be final even then. Come and see her. See the Castle for yourself. And think of
us
, Anna. And think too how lonely you would be if I went away and you joined that miserable antique dealer whom you haven't found yet and probably never will.”

“How do you know the antique dealer will be miserable?”

“Comparatively so…compared with the excitement I'm offering you. I'll have to go. I'll tell Lady C. that you will come along and see her tomorrow afternoon.”

She talked of the Castle for some little time before she left. I was caught up in her excitement about the place. She had made me see it so clearly through her journal.

***

How quiet it was at night in the Queen's House. The moon shone through my window filling the room with its pale light, showing the shapes in my room of those pieces of furniture which had not yet been sold.

“Tick tock, tick tock!” said the grandmother clock on the wall. Victorian. Who would want it? They had never been so popular as grandfathers.

I heard the creak of a stair, which when I was young used to make me think some ghost was walking, but it was only the shrinking of the wood. Silence all about me—and the house, now denuded of the clutter of furniture, gaining a new dignity. Who could admire the paneled walls when they were hidden by tallboys and cabinets? Who could appreciate the fine proportions of the rooms when pieces of furniture were put there as I used to say “for the time being.”

Lately I had been picturing the house furnished as I should have liked to furnish it. In the hall I would have a Tudor chest like the one I had seen in an old house and had tried to buy but was outbidden. Fourteenth century with St. George and the Dragon carved on the front; a carved refectory table; high wooden chairs.

But what was the use of dreaming? I could not afford to live in the Queen's House although it was mine, for if I did it would soon start falling into ruin. For its own sake I must leave it.

And this offer? To go right away, even out of the country. In the past I had dreamed of sailing on a ship to go to India to my parents. I remembered those days when I had walked down to the quay with Ellen and looked at the ships and dreamed of stowing away.

And now…the opportunity had come. I should be a fool to miss it.

I thought of what life would be like if I did. The utter loneliness. Trying to find a post. As Chantel asked: How many antique dealers were looking for an assistant at this moment?

And I could enjoy this excitement. Yes, I was excited. That was why I couldn't sleep.

I put on my dressing gown. I went to the foot of the stairs. It was here that Aunt Charlotte had fallen on that night. It was here that I had stood with Captain Stretton. He was beside me holding the candle high, and we had gone downstairs together. I could recapture the excitement of that time, because I had believed that I was on the brink of a wonderful adventure. I had gone on believing that until that day when I had learned that he was married…had actually been married when he came here and laughed with me and made me feel—as I had not since my mother died—that I was of some importance to someone.

Down the stairs to the room where we had eaten together.

I could not bear to think of it now.

And I was proposing to go away to look after his child!

Where would he be? I had not asked Chantel. He was at the Castle now, I knew. I suppose he would go away soon but if I looked after his child there would be times when I saw him.

What was I doing walking about the house at night holding a candle in a beautiful gilded candlestick—the same one which he had held that night, for we had never sold it.

I was becoming eccentric. Young Miss Brett was becoming Odd Miss Brett; very soon she would be odd,
old
Miss Brett. And if I did not take this opportunity I would blame myself for the rest of my dull life.

And if I did, if I agreed to go and look after
his
child, what then?

***

I dressed myself with care. Neat, I thought, not rich nor gaudy. “The apparel oft proclaims the man”…or the woman for that matter.

I was thinking of Lady Crediton whom I had seen only once in the presence of Aunt Charlotte. That had been a long time ago. I was determined that she should not get the better of me.

Being apprehensive I seemed to acquire a cool indifference; not even those who knew me very well realized that it was assumed. Even Chantel believed me to be in command of myself, mistress of the situation. That was what Lady Crediton must believe.

I had ordered the local fly to take me to the Castle so that I should not appear windblown or flustered on arrival. In my brown costume, which Chantel had pointed out was not the color which most became me, with a rather sedate brown hat trimmed with straw-colored chiffon and my plain brown gloves, I thought I looked the perfect governess—as though I could accept authority while in my own sphere I could command it.