by Meg Buchanan
When his mother went to the kitchen to make the tea, Sophie gave him a nervous smile, as if she was aware of his mother’s hesitation about the idea.
She came back into the lounge with a tray filled with cups and milk jug and a plate of scones. When she’d settled on her chair again, his mother asked, “Miss Westmore, how do you take your tea?”
“Just with lemon, thank you Mrs Samuels.” Sophie sat up very straight and did Miss Westmore to perfection.
His mother gave her the tea with lemon. “And for how long have you wanted to be a nanny, Miss Westmore?”
Sophie accepted the cup then balanced it and the saucer with ease. “All my life. I told Courtney that. He said he knew of a family on a farm who needed someone to help with their children.”
It was the story he and Sophie agreed on, but out in the cold light of day it seemed a little thin. This was a mistake. He should’ve just hitched up the trap, taken Sophie to Waihi and handed her over to Eliza.
“Really?” asked his mother. “And you are from Auckland, Sophie?”
Sophie nodded and looked at him.
“Epsom,” he said. It was tempting to tell his mother the truth of the situation. She would probably accept Sophie then. But Sophie didn’t want his family to know how they met. She said what her mother and father did, made her feel ashamed. He could understand that.
“And you have just come from there today?”
Sophie put the cup on the side table. “No, Courtney and I spent last night at the Criterion Hotel.”
He looked at her, astonished. She knew perfectly that was not the story they had practised. She should have said, “Yes, we arrived on the passenger steamer from Auckland an hour ago.”
His mother’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. “Sophie,” she said. “Go for a walk around the garden, the roses have faded a little but are still beautiful. I think my son and I should finish this conversation alone.”
Sophie looked at him as if hoping he might object to her having to leave the room. He sighed. She caused this. She could have just stuck to the story.
“Go Sophie.” He suspected she wouldn’t get much further than the front porch. The window to the front garden was open a little, Sophie wouldn’t even have to listen at the keyhole the way Alice used to.
Once they heard the back door shut, his mother turned back to him. “I have forgotten what you said, son. How was it you met, Sophie?”
“She’s the sister of a friend of Eugene’s.” But he could see his mother wasn’t convinced by the story of a chance meeting with a sister of a friend in Auckland, who just happened to want to live in the country and look after little children.
“How long have you known her?”
“A while.”
“How old is she?” He was surprised by the interrogation. His mother’s questions were sharp and critical.
“Seventeen.”
“Just a pretty baby, son. I’m puzzled why she’s here.”
“She wants to try living in the country. I remembered Alice saying you thought Eliza needed help with the children, so told her I knew of a position.”
“And her parents let her come the day before Christmas without so much as a letter of introduction?”
He nodded. For God’s sake, he was thirty-seven, it was years since his mother had had the right to interrogate him like this.
“Who are her parents?”
“You aren’t acquainted with them.”
“And where are these parents I am not acquainted with?”
“At their home.”
“You’re very tight lipped, Courtney.” Even the way she said his name reeked with disapproval now. “Are you feeling guilty about something?”
“Why would I be feeling guilty?” he asked coolly.
“She said you spent last night with her. Has Millicent been replaced? Is this Miss Westmore, this child, your new mistress, son?”
Alice warned him years ago they knew about Millicent. “No.” He and Sophie may have shared a bed, but that was due to circumstances, it was not permanent.
“But you spent the night with her?”
Courtney sighed. He knew as soon as Sophie said that, it would give the wrong impression. She hadn’t mentioned marriage again, but he was sure she hadn’t given up on the idea.
“No, we’re not lovers,” he lied.
His mother gave a snort. “Then, does she think she’s eloping?”
He shook his head. “This isn’t an elopement. I just need somewhere for her to stay.”
“Why is that your responsibility? Sophie is young, she has obviously been carefully raised. Now she’s with you, and your responsibility for no apparent reason. How long is she to stay with Eliza and Declan?”
“Until she decides what she wants.”
His mother stood, studied the titles of the books in the bookcase. Finally, she looked over at him. “The child comes here with you, with no luggage and no sign of family approval. The first thing she does when she arrives, is announce she has spent the night with you, and you think she doesn’t know what she wants?” She walked to the window and stared out at the garden for a moment. “If we look after her, it will be until you decide what you want Courtney. Then if goes the way it always does, I will send her back to her family heartbroken.”
The lace curtains moved gently in the breeze. He could hear rustling and movement on the veranda. She could probably see Sophie sitting on the porch steps listening. “She can’t go back to her family,” he said finally.
His mother turned back and faced him. “Why not?”
He shrugged.
She sighed. “If I am going to agree to Sophie living with my daughter and helping to look after my grandchildren. I need to know the truth.”
He looked at his hands. He could just about hear her thinking, two of her children being difficult, where did I go wrong?
He didn’t want to lie to her again, so he came to a decision. She was a good woman, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew there was evil in the world. It was better if his family knew the truth. Charlotte’s men still might turn up here looking for Sophie. Forewarned was forearmed.
He stood and went to the window too. Sophie was sitting on the steps of the veranda like he thought she would be. “Sophie come inside. I’ll unlock the front door and let you in.”
She brushed a crushed leaf off the green fabric. “Are you going to tell her?”
“I think it’s best.” Sophie nodded and stood reluctantly.
Despite Sophie’s reluctance, he gave his mother the stark truth. Sophie’s parent’s betrayal, Charlotte’s cruelty. By the end of the story, his mother was sitting down again, and all her sympathy was with Sophie.
“Now I understand, and I can see it would be better for Sophie to leave here as soon as possible. You’re right, she’ll be safer at the farm, and Eliza does need help.” His mother sat again. “Alice can’t stay with her forever; university will start again in the new year. But Eliza mightn’t accept it easily, we disagreed about it when she was visiting. I’ll come too, I don’t want to spend Christmas day alone. I think we will stick with the story that Sophie is a friend of a friend.”
“Sophie will need more clothes.”
His mother nodded. “I’m sure we will be able to find things Alice can spare that will fit her. You send a message to Eliza to expect us, and I’ll get ready.”
At Declan’s, Courtney dismounted and went to the cart to offer his hand to Sophie. She stepped down. His mother stayed sitting on the cart as if a little unsure of her reception. Eliza stood on the top step studying them, Alice beside her.
Courtney, his hand on Sophie’s waist, guided her over to them. Eliza examined Sophie from top to toe, taking in the clothes, the hair, the little hat. “Welcome brother. I was surprised to get your telegram.”
“Eliza and Alice, meet Sophie. Sophie meet my sisters.”
“So, this is Miss Westmore. I didn’t think she’d be so young.” Eliza didn’t sound pleased.
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br /> Alice was less reserved, after she’d greeted her mother, she bounced down the steps. “Sophie, I’m so happy to meet you.” She turned back to her sister. “Sophie must only be a year or two younger than I am.” She was a whirlwind, she grabbed Sophie’s hand. “I’ll show you the bedroom you’ll stay in. You’ll be sharing it with me over Christmas so mother can have Dom’s room. Have you met Declan?”
Sophie shook her head and looked back overwhelmed at the warmth of this welcome. Alice dragged her along the passageway, “And this is Jessie and Emily and Katy.” Alice kept up the flow of words. Courtney and Eliza followed them down the hall. “And that’s the dining room, and this is the kitchen.”
Courtney left them to it, his mother and Eliza went to the kitchen, the little girls seemed happy to see their grandmother, Alice was looking after Sophie, it was going well. He went into the parlour, wandered over to the sideboard and poured himself a whiskey. The one thing that Declan splashed out on, decent whiskey.
Alice popped her head around the door. “Declan is back from the shed, and dinner is ready.”
“Good, I’m famished.” He took his glass with him to the dining room.
Supper was finished, leftovers padded out with bread. When they were starting to prepare dinner, Alice and Eliza probably weren’t expecting to have to feed three extra people.
They were all sitting in the parlour. Courtney watched as Sophie read to the little girls. She was reading from Little Lord Fauntleroy.
Sophie read the first few pages aloud, then handed the book to Alice. “We should take turns. It is your turn now,” she said. The way she spoke always surprised him. The flawless diction, the perfect enunciation, the slight bossiness. She adapted quickly.
He listened as Alice read of the handsome hero who married the penniless companion just because she was sweet and beautiful. Stupid man, especially as it apparently lost him his family and heritance.
After another few pages, Alice handed the book back to Sophie, who took over the story again. The baby in the story was perfect too, with its cheerful, fearless, quaint little way of making friends with people.
Katy clambered off Alice and climbed onto Sophie’s knee. Sophie looked part of the group. Like she was just a slightly older sister, only dark-haired, when all the others were fair.
Later, Eliza, his mother and Alice were putting the three little girls to bed. It didn’t look like they’d fall asleep easily with the excitement about waking up to Christmas morning. Courtney waited for Sophie to come back from the outhouse. When she saw him, she swapped the lantern to the other hand.
“You said you would leave as soon as I was settled, Courtney?”
“I’ve been invited to Christmas dinner. Will you be all right?” Sophie nodded.
“Happy?” he asked her.
Sophie nodded again. “I think so, they are very nice people and I like the children.”
“I’ll give Eliza money, so she can get more clothes for you.”
“I don’t think Eliza likes me.”
He touched her cheek with his knuckles. “Don’t worry about Eliza. It’s me she’s annoyed with. She’ll be fine. Now go to bed and get some sleep. You’re working tomorrow.”
Sophie giggled. “I am, aren’t I? Who would have thought I could work?” She rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Courtney, for everything. I don’t know how to make it up to you?” She gave him a crooked smile, and he discovered, despite what he’d decided, the temptation was still there. He could take her in his arms and kiss her properly. She wouldn’t object. They could go to the barn and find a pile of hay.
No, that was over. “You’re welcome, Miss Westmore,” he said instead. “Goodnight.”
She sketched a mocking little curtsey. “Goodnight, Mr Samuels.”
Courtney went back to the drawing-room, empty of children. Eliza read a newspaper and sipped brandy, lying in wait for him it turned out. “Are you taking mother’s side, big brother? Do you feel I’m not coping either?”
He could feel the tension vibrating between Eliza and his mother.
“I thought you could do with some help.”
Eliza snorted. “I was doing fine with Alice’s help.” She turned a page. The newspaper crackled. “Sophie’s very pretty, Courtney. Are you just foisting your problems on me?”
“I’m sure Sophie will be helpful, Eliza,” said his mother.
He poured a drink and sat down. They should just tell Eliza why Sophie was really here.
“We’ll see,” Eliza said. Then on cue, she asked, “Where does Miss Westmore really come from?”
Courtney had a drink. The true story won his mother around, and Eliza was her mother’s daughter.
He looked a question at his mother, she nodded, so, Eliza and Declan got the truth about Sophie too.
“Really she’s hiding?”
“Yes.” Courtney leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands cradling his glass. “Thank you for agreeing to do this.”
Eliza gave a huff. “If she turns out to be just another person to look after, I’ll give her back to you, brother.” So, Eliza wasn’t quite won over.
Chapter 19
CHRISTMAS DAY PASSED in a flurry of food, presents and the little girl’s excitement. By mid-afternoon he and Declan were ready to leave. Declan was coming with him, but Alice and his mother had decided to stay a few more days.
Courtney stopped by the gate to the orchard and waited for his brother-in-law. He watched Miss Westmore skipping rope near the kitchen door with Alice, Katy, Emily and Jessie. Sophie was wearing one of Alice’s outfits as she hadn’t had time to purchase the light blue dress of muslin she had on. There would have been a flurry of shifting buttons and making tucks at some time.
Sophie tripped on the rope and started to argue about the rules of the game. Her hair was half down and her lips red and smiling. She didn’t look much older than the children she was supposed to be looking after.
Eliza came out of the kitchen door. She’d been nice to Sophie this morning. Either Sophie had already won her over, or the truth had.
When Eliza saw him, she came to the gate. “I thought you’d gone,” she said. Her attitude towards him hadn’t improved.
“I stopped to say goodbye to Sophie.”
Sophie left the game and ran over to them. “Are you going now?” She smiled, slightly breathless. “When will you be back?”
“I am not sure. Work is busy.”
“Oh.” Sophie looked disappointed.
“Very convenient.” Eliza sounded cross, he suspected on Sophie’s behalf. So she was on Sophie’s side now.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asked Sophie, ignoring Eliza.
“Yes, Alice and Mrs Farrell are very kind. When will I see you again?”
“In a month, perhaps.”
There was a long silence from Sophie, a nibbling of lips and the start of tears. “A month?”
“Or longer.” The horse moved uneasily.
He watched Sophie turn away. He would miss her. He’d got used to having her around, but it was better this way.
Alice came over to Sophie and put her arm around her. “Come along, Sophie, we’ll all go back inside.” He suspected Sophie was crying and was tempted to go after her and comfort her. But whenever she was near the desire to make love to her was almost overwhelming.
Eliza watched Alice and Sophie gather up the little girls and go into the house. “Have fun, brother. She thinks the sun shines out of you, it’s all Courtney this and Courtney that. She loves you, and you’re just dumping her here.
He was about to defend himself, but Declan chose that moment to join them. “Ready to go?” asked Declan.
Courtney nodded and reluctantly went along the driveway with his brother in law. That conversation with Sophie wasn’t the most successful piece of public relations he had ever been involved in. Somehow in the week since he’d met her, she’d got under his skin, but she was still way too young for him. It was lust, not
love he felt. It was Mere he loved.
Declan dropped his bag on the porch of William’s house on the claim. “I could never work out why you didn’t put in a proper road from the river when you were living here, William,” said Declan.
Courtney could see Seb and Finn still coming along the overgrown pathway from the mine.
“Trying to keep out the riff-raff,” said William.
“Doesn’t work,” laughed Seb.
“Come inside.” William turned to go back into the house. “You’re just in time to have something to eat.”
Declan picked up his bag and followed the others. “This is an interesting way to end Christmas day.”
“The sooner we get this done, the better,” said William.
In the dining room, Declan pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “I wasn’t sure we’d have furniture when Courtney said we’d be staying at the old house.”
“John helped me get enough here for us to survive. We’re all getting too old to rough it.” William nodded at the stew bubbling away on the range. “Yesterday Mere packed supplies, so we won’t starve. Declan, your room is down at the end of the passage. You’re sharing with John and Eugene, only mattresses on the floor, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll cope, it’ll be better than a pallet in a tent.”
Declan took his bag to his room, then came back into the kitchen. “I told Eliza and Alice I was helping you with some fencing on the farm for the week.”
“As good a reason for being here as any,” said William.
They settled down to eat the stew.
“How far have you got?” asked Declan.
“Got the poppet-head working, now we need to start tunnelling and get to the bodies.”
“Are you sure about where they are in relation to the other mine?” asked Declan.
John got the roll of bleached linen William had borrowed from the office. He spread the drawings out on the table. Declan joined them, and the men studied the lines that showed the two mines.
