Victoria and the Nightingale (6 page)

“I have said that Johnny’s remaining here is only a very temporary measure,” she said distinctly to Georgina.

“And you yourself are about to pack your things and leave? I gather that you’ve just been to the funeral,” flickering her luxuriant eyelashes as her glance traveled over Victoria’s sober garb.

“Yes. That is to say, I’ve just been to the funeral, but I didn’t realize I was expected to leave tonight. As a matter of fact, Sir Peter asked me to stay on and look after Johnny.”

“What?”

“He was concerned because Johnny has just been deprived of a father, and he thought that someone he knows should stay with him for a little while. But it is only for a very little while ... and in any case, I thought you knew.”

“I did not. I was not consulted.”

“Then I suppose it’s a bit of a shock ... but we shall not get in your way, I assure you. We shall take great care to keep out of your way, Miss Islesworth,” and she tightened her grip on Johnny.

“But that’s not the point!” The brilliant dark eyes were sparkling with emotion, and resentment and indignation flamed from them as well. “The thing that I object to is that it looks to me as if Peter, my fiance, has been taken advantage of ... that is to say, his goodness of heart has been imposed upon. Naturally, he couldn’t cast the child adrift...” with an infinitely impatient glance at the child in question. “But it’s one thing to take you both in because you’ve been involved in an accident, and quite another to keep you both here because you’re temporarily homeless. And surely the boy must have some relatives?”

“I’m afraid he hasn’t,” sensing Johnny’s bewilderment and biting her lower lip hard.

“Not even an aunt, or an uncle—”

“No one.”

“There are institutions that cope with orphans.”

Even Johnny knew what the word orphan meant, and Victoria felt him clutch at her as a drowning person might clutch at a lifeline.

“Johnny may be an orphan, but he is not without friends,” she stated with the same distinctness as before. “And as soon as we leave here I shall do my best to see to it that he doesn’t have to be consigned to the care of

an institution.”

“You mean you’ll look after him yourself?” with contemptuous surprise.

“If necessary.”

“But you don’t appear to have anywhere to take him to, or a job now that his father’s dead, or very much money,” with an even more contemptuous glance at the unpretentious gray suit Victoria had bought off the rack. “How will you support him, unless you work? And if you work, who will look after him?”

“I shall arrange something,” Victoria replied rather helplessly.

Georgina’s lip curled.

“I don’t suppose the authorities will allow you to do anything of the kind,” she said. “I understand they’re rather hot on child welfare nowadays, and Johnny will be better off in a home. Of course he’ll have to go into a home eventually.”

“Please...” Victoria felt like a lioness defending her cub, “do you mind if we don’t discuss this any more in front of—in front of Johnny?”

The other girl shrugged.

“As you please. But I do want you to understand quite clearly that you can’t stay here. . . . Certainly not you yourself. The child, I suppose, will have to stay for a time, and then Sir Peter will make proper arrangements for him.” She emphasized the word proper. “In the meantime, since Sir Peter obviously expects you to work your passage while you’re here, hadn’t you better put him to bed?” She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “It’s six o’clock. In my nursery days all children were in bed by then, and the people employed to look after them were not allowed to skip their duties. I suggest that you go ahead with yours.”

“I will if you don’t mind leaving us alone.” Georgina looked mildly surprised. There was a certain air of dismissal about the girl in the off-the-rack suit, as well as an infinite weariness and unhappiness in her eyes. And with her soft gold hair and her pearly pallor she might have been some delicate wraith the child was clinging to.

Georgina shrugged.

“Go ahead and put him to bed. And in the morning you and I will have a talk. I think, perhaps, I might be able to find you a job.” She paused. “What do you do when you’re not looking after children?”

“I can type and do shorthand.”

“You don’t look to me as if you’d make a very good secretary. Are you good at domestic duties?”

“Wh-what sort of duties?”

“My mother wants a personal maid. Do you think you could do that sort of thing? Look after her clothes and manage her hair for her? You might even take a short course.” Once again that flickering look. “You strike me as being somewhat fastidious. It’s very possible you’d turn out to be a first-class personal maid.” Victoria said nothing.

Georgina started to walk toward the door, and then she turned back.

“You could visit the boy during your off-duty. I expect he’d love you to take him sweets and toys and things, when we’ve got him safely stowed away somewhere. You can take it from me that I shall do my utmost to persuade Sir Peter to put him in a good children’s home.” Once more she paused. Her look at Victoria was bright and challenging. “But whatever you do, please get it into your head that you cannot continue to take advantage of Sir Peter’s kindness ... and he is very, very kind to most people! As a matter of fact, he doesn’t know how to say ‘No’ when it’s a question of someone pleading poverty and tribulation.”

Victoria lost what little color she had.

“I do assure you, I haven’t pleaded poverty,” she said with noticeable huskiness.

Georgina shrugged once more.

“Well, perhaps you simply looked at him appealingly.” Her face and tone hardened. “Sir Peter Wycherley, I understand perfectly, is the sort of man to turn the head of a girl like you. He is attractive and kind and courteous and chivalrous, and in addition he’s extremely wealthy—as you must have gathered from this beautiful house of his. I’m not saying you’d allow him to turn your head, but I’d rather have you out of the way ... you and the child! Tomorrow I’ll send for you some time during the morning and we’ll discuss all the aspects of this somewhat—unusual—situation.”

Having said which, she left the room and closed the door firmly behind her, and Victoria looked down at Johnny, whose eyes were big and dark and serious. “Doesn’t that lady like us?” he asked thoughtfully. Victoria squeezed his shoulders.

“I’m afraid she doesn’t, Johnny,” she admitted truthfully. “At least,” she amended, in order that he shouldn’t feel too shocked and perhaps alarmed, “not very much. She would prefer it if we were not here, but that’s because she’s going to marry Sir Peter, who has been so very kind to us both, and not unnaturally she wants us out of the way before she takes over as mistress here. I think the wedding is fairly soon, and it would show consideration for her feelings if we made our plans well before then. In fact, I think I already have an idea...” She looked at him very earnestly, hoping to encourage him by the warm smile in her eyes. “You want us to be together, don’t you, Johnny?”

He answered with a mute nod of the head.

“You really mean that?” She was a trifle anxious, in case he didn’t. “After all, you don’t have to come with me—”

But he nodded his head with much more vigor.

“I won’t stay here without you.” He clutched at her hand in such a way that she was convinced his small mind was made up on that point, at least. Wycherley Park was a haven while she was there, but it might become a dubious haven if he was deprived of her support and companionship. In any case, he had adopted her weeks ago as the next best thing to a relative. “If you go away I’m going with you—”

“Honestly? That’s what you really want?”

“I like the gentleman, but I don’t like the lady—”

“But you might get on very well with the lady after a time! She might be quite kind to you—let you stay here for a long time.” But Victoria didn’t really see that happening. “After all, this is a lovely house, and you have lots of toys and this beautiful nursery. You won’t ever have such a nice place to live in again, not if you go away with me,” feeling that she must make everything clear to him.

But Johnny looked suddenly indignant.

“She was horrid to you!” he spat out, as if he had bitterly resented the horridness. “You didn’t do anything to make her angry, and yet she was horrid to you!” His incredulous dark eyes sought hers in complete bewilderment. “Why was she?”

Victoria shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter, Johnny,” she told him quietly. “I didn’t in the least mind anything she said, because after all we are imposing on Sir Peter.” At the questioning look in Johnny’s eyes she explained: “We’re taking advantage of his kindness. He owes us nothing, and we are taking a lot from him—very likely making things awkward between him and Miss Islesworth. I do honestly think we should go away very soon, and since you’re agreed about it we’ll go together!”

Then she took him over to the wide window seat and told him a little of what had happened that afternoon, making it quite clear to him that his father was now at rest and one day they could come back to the churchyard where he was resting and put flowers on his grave. Johnny, if he wished, could make it a place of pilgrimage in the future, and every time he did so he could put flowers on the grave.

Johnny was quite captivated by the thought of these future missions, and a great deal of the somberness—and the fear—in his dark eyes fled away after a time and left them reasonably confident and content. Johnny was too young yet to appreciate his loss, and he still had Victoria to cling to, so nothing was really bad. Not even the loss of his father, to whom he had been attached, but not passionately devoted.

But the very thought of Victoria leaving him filled him with an emotion that was an entirely different thing from the odd pang or two he had experienced as a result of the loss of his father. Victoria was Victoria!

He fell asleep after a time, and had to be wakened for his supper, but he didn’t seem to wish to eat very much, so Victoria put him to bed. He fell asleep again the instant his head touched the pillow, and she had no need to read to him, or even tell him stories. Instead she sat quietly thinking and planning and watching the extraordinary peacefulness of his expression as he drifted into slumber.

She felt that she had been entrusted with a mission.

CHAPTER SIX

Much later that night she sat making calculations in her own bedroom, and decided that she had enough money, in the bank and in the post office, to keep herself and Johnny for at least two months if only she could find a place in which to live, and after that she could be successful in finding a reasonably well-paid job.

She didn’t feel oppressed by the burden she had taken on when she went to bed at last, and as she lay listening to

the chiming of the various grandfather and other makes of clocks that was going on around her, as well as the plushy background silence of the big house set in its stately park and grounds, she was merely mildly excited, as if she was setting out on a grand but possibly formidable adventure.

The next day she planned to take Johnny away. She would rise early, get him dressed—although unfortunately it would be impossible to feed him at that early hour—and without disturbing anyone they would steal away, much as they had come, and throw themselves upon the mercy of the world. By degrees they would return to London, and once there a bed-sitting room would solve their immediate problems. The welfare center where she had worked before might help her to care for Johnny ... at least while she was working. She supposed she ought to keep in touch with the lawyer who was handling the microscopic estate—and the debts—that Johnny’s father had left to the world. There would be nothing very much for Johnny, but at least she must keep in touch.

That much she owed to Johnny.

She found it impossible to sleep as the hours crawled by. At two o’clock she got up and started putting together her few possessions ... things she had collected while she was at Wycherley Park. And these did not include garments that had been made over to her by Miss Islesworth. These she returned to the drawers and the wardrobe, where Miss Islesworth could find them later.

At three o’clock she crept into Johnny’s room and performed the-same service for him. She took the utmost care to avoid waking him, then returned to her own room and sat watching by the window until the first very faint light of dawn appeared in the sky. Then she went back to Johnny’s room and wakened him.

It was difficult making the child understand that a good deal was expected of him. He wanted to go on slumbering contentedly in his bed, and Victoria couldn’t allow that, so she had to give him a gentle shake occasionally.

At last she succeeded in getting him dressed, and then she had to make him understand that neither of them must make any sound. She had left a note propped up on the writing desk in her room for Sir Peter Wycherley, and in it she had thanked him for all his goodness and kindness, but made no mention of where she was going, or where she was taking Johnny. After all, or so she argued with herself, it was really no concern of his. And the relief of his fiancee when she discovered that they had gone would be incalculable.

So why did she have to let Sir Peter know where she was going?

Once they had gone—she and Johnny—he could forget them. He need never again devote a moment’s thought to them, and that would completely satisfy Georgina Islesworth—Georgie as Sir Peter called her.