Virtue of a Governess (24 page)

“I’ll see that the cab is here at that time. Do you have a forwarding address?”

“No. Not as yet. I will write to you.”

“Do you want me to inform you of your child’s progress, should I hear of anything?”

Shaking her head, she retreated further into the room. “No… It is done. He is a Walker and nothing to do with me now. A clean break is the best thing. I hope you appreciate that.”

“I’m trying to, yes.”

“Thank you for everything, Miss Douglas.” Slowly the bedroom door closed and as Nicola was left staring at it, some of her happiness vanished. On a night when she’d be formally engaged, something she never thought would happen to her, another woman would be painfully beginning a new journey alone and unloved. It wasn’t so very long ago that she had done the same thing.

Come on, West. Can we finish this game or what?” Tristan Lombard leaned his hand on the end of the billiard table, holding his cue with the other. “I thought we were going to attend that card game upstairs tonight? I hope we can make a good show of it and I can earn back some of my losses from last month.”

Nat, bent over his cue, glanced up at Lombard. “Actually, I’m not in the mood for cards tonight.”

“Oh, what?” Lombard swore fluently. “You’re jesting, surely?”

In one clean movement, Nat sunk a red ball in the middle pocket. He straightened. “I’m quite serious.”

“But I thought after a few hours of cards we could go to the rat pit. I won well there last week.”

“And I told you last week that I’d not be attending any more rat pits.” He shivered despite himself. “I cannot stand rats.”

“Nay, what kind of man are you?” Lombard scoffed. He crouched down to eye up the balls on the table. “You’ve become a bore lately.”

“Is that so?” Nat grinned. Lombard was like a spoilt child when he didn’t get his own way. “Listen, if you want to play cards or attend the rat pit, then go.”

“It’s no fun on my own.”

Laughing, Nat got into position again and made his next shot to the top right hand pocket. “You can never be alone at those events.”

“It’s not the same though. I can hardly converse with the undesirables that gather there.” Lombard drank heavily from his whiskey glass. “If you don’t want to play cards, then what do you want to do?”

“After this game, I’m going home. I want a clear head tomorrow as Nicola and I are meeting decorators at the house.” Nat caught his friend’s grimace at the mention of Nicola’s name. This wasn’t the first time Lombard had given such a reaction. “You have a problem, Lombard?”

“No, what makes you say that?” Unable to meet his gaze, Lombard shifted around to the other side of the table.

Nat watched him, recalling each time since he told of his marriage plans how Lombard had sneered and ridiculed. At first he’d let it wash over him, his happiness at having Nicola as his fiancée obliterated every other thought from his head. Yet now, as once again Lombard’s expression showed his feelings, Nat wanted to get to the bottom of it. “What are your thoughts on my marriage?”

Lombard sniffed and inspected his cue. “I have none.”

“As my friend though, you must be pleased for me?”

“If it’s what you want, then all is good.”

“But you must have an opinion?” Nat kept his voice light and effortlessly took his next shot.

“Not really.” Lombard shifted from foot to foot. He took out his pocket watch and flicked open the top. “Time’s getting on. Shall we call it a night?”

“In a minute.” He stood his cue stick upright and used it as a prop to lean on. “So you have no opinion of my marriage, of my future wife?”

“Why should I have?”

“Well, as my friend, we shall be entertaining you. I’d hope that you’d be comfortable in my home.”

Giving a chuckle, that held no humour in it, Lombard pulled at his starched collar. “I’m sure once the novelty of being a newlywed has worn off, we’ll no doubt be seeing you in the clubs again and things will go along as normal.”

Frowning, Nat chalked his cue tip and then moved around the table, going behind Lombard, to line up for another shot. “Novelty of being a newlywed?”

“Why, yes. After all, your wife will hardly keep you interested for too long and then things will return to how they were.” Lombard grinned. “I’ll make sure I leave you some women. I cannot bed them all, though I might have a good go at it.”

“Keep them. I think my wife will satisfy me.”

Lombard laughed loudly. “What, a prim governess? Are you mad? It’s hard enough to believe you are actually marrying her, but to think she will satisfy you is insane.”

Fighting back the burning urge to haul Lombard across the table by the throat, Nat instead gave him a strained smile. “You seem to have little faith in my choice of partner.”

“I think you’ve lost your wits.” Lombard relaxed his stance, falling for Nat’s show of good nature.

“How so?” Nat raised an eyebrow, fighting for calm.

“Well, you’ve been hot for her since you first saw her last winter. But instead of just throwing her skirts over her head and scratching your itch, you’ve treated her like she was some noble lady.”

“Ah, I see.” His fist tightened on the cue stick. “I should have treated her like a whore from the Rocks.”

“Utterly so, my good man.” Lombard nodded, his expression serious. “But it’s not too late to pull out of the agreement. Pay her off. Those women are always desperate for money.”

“Right.” He stepped away from the table, pretending to consider the angle of his next shot. Rage churned his gut, making his hands tremble with the need to throttle Lombard.

Unawares, Lombard went to the drinks cabinet in the corner and poured himself another whiskey. “No one will blame you for cutting ties with her. She isn’t of our class. Most will think you’ve had a lucky escape.”

“Who are they exactly?”

“Friends from the club, acquaintances.”

“Had a good laugh have they?” Nat took his shot and missed. He straightened. “Your turn.”

“No, no one is laughing, Nat. It’s more a case of pity.”

“Pity.” A red mist seemed to cloud his mind. He walked around the table, as though heading for the drinks cabinet. “Do they think I’m so stupid as to marry a woman just so I can bed her?”

Lombard shrugged. “Why would you marry a governess anyway? Just set her up as your mistress and be done with it. She doesn’t deserve your name.”

“I happen to think she does.” Nat ground out between clenched teeth.

“Really? How tragic. What happened? Have you filled her belly all ready?” Lombard snorted and chalked his cue. “It’s a shame really. I always fancied giving her one myself. I bet she’d have an arse as smooth as—”

With a roar that hurt his throat, Nat dropped his cue and lunged for him. The force of his charge threw them both onto the floor, knocking over a lamp table as they did so. Amidst the broken glass of the lamp and whiskey glasses, Nat straddled Lombard and punched him in the face. The crunch of Lombard’s nose breaking gave Nat a sense of satisfaction but it wasn’t enough as pain cursed through his hand, making him even madder. He hauled Lombard to his feet and gave him a one-two to the stomach, instinctively knowing he could do damage there but not to his hands.

Lombard sank to his knees, coughing and spluttering.

Nat stepped back, aching for the man to do or say something else so that he could smash his teeth in. “Get up Lombard, you coward. Get up and fight.”

“Go to Hell!”

“Get up I said,” he yelled, jerking him up by the lapels of his jacket.

“Let go of me, you bastard.” Lombard spat in Nat’s face. The shock held him immobile for a moment, then he flung the scoundrel away into the tall bookcase by the window. Books rattled on the shelves, several toppled to the floor. Just as Nat brought his fist back to smack Lombard again, the door burst open and in rushed three men.

“I say, what the devil is going on here?” The proprietor of the club, Atkins, glared at the mess.

Nat jerked forward, intending to punch Lombard again, but a call from the door made him lower his fist.

“Enough, West. No more.” Jones-Parker, an older man, walked further into the room. “Leave him.”

Nat glared at them all. “Has anyone else got something to say about my future wife?”

Puzzled, the men looked at him as though he was mad.

Atkins came in and righted a chair. “Why would we, Mr West?”

“Well if any of you do have something to say, then let me hear it now and we’ll deal with it.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “Because I’m telling you this, if I hear one derogatory word about my wife in the future I’ll know where to come looking. Clear?” Nat swept his gaze past the older men in the room and out to the gathering spectators in the hall.

No one moved or spoke a word as he shouldered his way out of the room and left the club.

* * * 

“Here’s to the happy couple.” Mr Belfroy raised his glass high.

Nicola, seated next to Nathaniel at the head table, felt her cheeks achingly protest at the amount of smiling she was doing today. She gazed around at the room full of friends; Frances, Mr Belfroy, the women from the Home and the staff. Other people had witnessed their marriage, many of them acquaintances of Nathaniel’s, but it was the presence of those she’d grown close to that mattered the most.

“As much as I’m enjoying today,” Nathaniel whispered in her ear, “I’ll be happier when we are alone together.”

She lowered her lashes at his forwardness, the heat rushing to her cheeks. “You mustn’t talk like that. These people are here sharing our special day. You cannot wish them away.”

“The day is yours and mine. I wouldn’t care if no one had come. You are all that matters.” He took her hand where it rested beside her plate and kissed the back of it. “When will they leave?”

Nicola laughed softly. “Don’t be rude.”

“Can we not slip away?”

“No.” She nudged him playfully. “Eat some more and be less impatient.”

“Hark at you, only married a few hours and already giving orders.” He grinned. “Promise me you’ll not turn into a shrew overnight.”

“I promise nothing, Mr West.” Her eyes narrowed with a sauciness she didn’t know she possessed. “Who knows what tonight will bring?”

His expression altered from light-heartedness to something more serious. He leaned towards her, his fingers playing with hers. “Tonight will bring many things, my darling, that I do promise.”

Desire was written on his face and she found it difficult to breathe. “Nathaniel…”

“Sweetheart, don’t look at me like that in front of all these people. I’m barely controlling myself as it is.”

She straightened in her chair, and after a small pressure on his fingers, she let go of his hand and turned back to their guests. Lifting her head, she smiled at Frances, who was looking their way, and Frances raised her glass to them in silent salute.

For the next hour, Nicola ate and drank while mingling with her guests. Even when they were on opposites sides of the room, she was aware of Nathaniel’s presence. Whenever she looked across at him, she found his heated gaze on her, the wry lift of his lips.

“When did you change your mind?” Frances murmured in Nicola’s ear.

Nicola spun around, giving her a quizzical look. “Change my mind about what?”

“Marrying my brother, of course.”

“Oh, I don’t know exactly when. He sort of grew on me.” She laughed.

“He has a habit of doing that.” Frances swallowed the last of her wine. “But there must have been a moment when you knew you had to say yes to him?”

“I suppose so, yes.” Nicola stared down at the glass in her hand, remembering. “I think the turning point was when I held Miss Roger’s baby. I suddenly, desperately, wanted a child of my own. I wanted Nathaniel’s child.” She looked up at Frances. “I realised that I wanted a family of my own. Then, you came and told me that Nathaniel was to return to England and I felt as though my whole world had collapsed.”

Frances nodded. “I thought so. Your face drained of all colour when I told you. Such a reaction hinted that you weren’t as unaffected by my dear brother as you liked to believe.”

“Aren’t you the clever one, then?” She linked her arm through her new sister’s-in-law’s. “Have you moved all your things into the house?”

“No, not yet. I told Nat I’d not move into your house until you are in the country, to give you some time alone together.”

“There was no need to do that. We are leaving in two days time. The house is large and I hate the thought of you living in that tiny room in Margaret Place. That whole building should be condemned.”

“Nonsense. It is a perfectly suitable place for me to live. I’m close to the soup kitchen and—”

“All right.” Nicola held up her hand, laughing. “Don’t get started.”

Frances chuckled and kissed Nicola’s cheek. “Here comes my brother. I think he wants you to say your farewells.”

With her hand tucked through Nathaniel’s arm, Nicola circled the room, thanking people for coming and accepting their good wishes. Within half an hour, she and her new husband were in the carriage heading for their new home in Double Bay.

Nestled against Nathaniel’s side, she yawned, her body swaying with the movement of the carriage.

“Tired, my love?”

“A little. I was up so early and it’s been such a wonderful day.” She put a hand up to her hair, hoping it’d kept in place and remained presentable. Never in her life had she fussed about her appearance as she did this morning. Frances, who’d arrived at the Home to help her dress, had laughed at her nervous cries that she wouldn’t look beautiful on today of all days. Her dress, a pale peach satin over white tulle, had fitted perfectly. Miss Shaw had scooped up her hair and pinned it, adding peach ribbons and white rosebuds. All the women agreed she looked lovely. Mr Belfroy, when he arrived to escort her to the church, had confirmed it by becoming a little teary at the sight of her coming down the staircase.

“A perfect day.” Nat kissed the top of her head.

“Yes.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“I believe you have, but I’m always interested to hear you say it again.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder like a contented cat.

“I am looking forward to seeing you wear light colours now.”

She stared at him. “Light colours?”

“Yes.” He moaned pathetically. “Do you know, that apart from the charity ball, I have only seen you wear browns, greys, and dark green and blue?”

Nibbling her bottom lip in thought, she tried to picture all her clothes and what she’d worn when with him. “I never gave it a moment’s thought.”