She pulled a robe around her — another grudging gift from Julia’s sumptuous wardrobe — and slipped out of the door. James stood in the corridor, wearing only his nightshirt, robe and nightcap, carrying a wavering candle.
“I had a thought,” James said, and she thought he looked rather smug. “I am not much good with money, but I keep Landon for all that sort of thing. You must remember old Landon — very clever fellow. Keeps all my money straight, anyway.”
“Oh, not Julia, then?” Nell said innocently.
“Julia? I should think not! Money is men’s work, Nell. Anyway, I took the liberty of mentioning your situation to Landon — I was sure you would not mind — and he has come up with a whole list of avenues you might pursue… or your solicitor, you know. He will have it all written up for you before you leave in the morning. And he said — and this is the clever part, Nell — that although I may not give you money or property, since I promised Papa, I may use my influence in your favour, do you see? So he is to write letters for you to take to the bank and anywhere else they may be useful, asking them to give you every assistance at this difficult time, and so on and so forth. And then I shall sign them. That is bound to weigh with them, is it not? Oh, and he said another thing that I had not thought about at all. He said, ‘Your sister is not a Godney any longer, but she is a Caldicott, and so is her son. Therefore, she will be able to turn to her husband’s family for aid.’ That is a good thought, is it not? You will have a family about you, and you will not need to come here again. Indeed, it is better if you do not. Julia does not like it above half, and I do not like it when she is unsettled. And now I shall leave you to sleep, Nelly. Good night.”
He hastened away down the corridor, the candle wavering into the distance and then vanishing, leaving her in the dark. She groped her way back to bed by the glow of the fire’s last embers, trying not to disturb the sleeping Louis. Then she lay motionless in the dark, trying to work out how on earth she was supposed to ask the Caldicotts for aid, when she had no idea where they lived or anything about them. Somewhere in Ireland, that was all she knew.
And if Jude had lied about being in the navy, perhaps he had lied about his family, too.
9: Past And Future
Nell and Louis arrived back in Southampton in greater style than they had left it, in the sumptuous comfort of one of the Daveney Hall carriages, complete with four horses, two coachmen and two footmen on the back. James was prohibited by his deathbed promise and his own scruples from giving Nell money or property, but the estimable Mr Landon had pointed out that this did not preclude the giving of books, unwanted items of apparel, joints of meat, cheeses, jars of preserves and pound cakes. The carriage, therefore, was laden to the roof, and the passengers in more cheerful spirits than might have been expected, given their circumstances.
Half the street came out to see such a splendid equipage arrive, and the other half no doubt watched from behind the curtains. The footmen carried their prizes into the house, and then, giving them her last coins as vails, Nell watched the carriage roll away down the street until it turned the corner and vanished from view. Only then did she go inside and shut the door.
Maria stood in the hall, gazing at the mountain of boxes, packages and hampers. “You have made it up with him, then?” she said, with a hopeful smile.
Nell pulled a rueful face. “Not exactly. Let us get everything put away, and then I shall tell you all.”
The whole household fell to, falling on the gifts with cries of joy, and swiftly finding a home for everything. Even Lydia Lloyd emerged to watch and pass comments and get in the way. Eventually it was done, and with Louis in his room with his precious books, the Lloyds in their own apartment again and everyone else in the kitchen drinking tea and anticipating an excellent dinner, Nell retrieved a bottle of Madeira and a box of bon-bons and took Maria off to the morning room.
“We will have a decent fire, for once,” Nell said, heaping coals onto the flames. “There. Now let us eat and drink and be cheerful while we may, for this largesse will be gone in a week, and then we shall be destitute.”
“Is it truly as bad as that?” Nell nodded. “What of your settlement?”
“There is not a penny piece. Papa gave Jude three thousand pounds to spend as he would, which I would guess was lost with the Helen of Troy. I have nothing.”
Maria was silent for a long moment. It was one of the greatest joys of their friendship, that she asked no foolish questions. Anyone else would have said at once, ‘What will you do? Where will you go? How will you manage?’, none of which Nell could answer. But Maria said nothing. Instead she got up and retrieved a paper from a drawer.
“Perhaps this will cheer you a little.”
A letter, on good quality paper, with an unusual seal. Nell turned it over and over in her hands. “Who is it from? It was hand-delivered, so it must have been a local man. Oh — not the bank! Please tell me it is not from the bank.”
Maria smiled. “Not the bank. I said it would cheer you, remember? Open it, and you will find out.”
She broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
‘Dolphin Hotel, 7th March 18—, Mrs Caldicott, I cannot express my great sorrow on hearing the tragic news of the loss of the Minerva and the almost certain demise of your husband. Pray allow me to offer my condolences to you and to Master Caldicott, inadequate as they may be to your immeasurable grief. I came at once to discover if I might be of any service to you, however slight, in so difficult a time. Finding you gone to the consoling bosom of your family, I acknowledge that you are in the best of hands and will now receive all the comfort you need, as well as material help for your untimely change in circumstances. My services being unnecessary, I shall depart, but be assured that you may recall me to your charming town at any time, should you have need of a friend or adviser. A letter to me at York will receive the earliest attention and my speedy arrival at your door. If it should suit you better, you may come to York and I shall show you my own charming town, and the sites of much history that would interest Louis. With my heartfelt prayers for you and your son, I remain, madam, your well-wisher and friend, Nathan Harbottle.’
“Mr Harbottle!” she said in astonishment. “He has been here?”
“Oh, yes! He came the day after you left, in a great deal of agitation, very concerned for you, but much relieved to hear that you were at Daveney Hall. ‘The breach was not so great then,’ he said, more than once. And I told him — and do not be angry, for it was only what you told me yourself, and he was so worried about you — I told him about your settlement, Nell. I did not know, then—”
“Nor did I.” Nell laughed. “It is ironic, is it not? My brother will not lift a finger to help me, yet a complete stranger tears about the country on my behalf.”
“Oh, but Nell! He was so taken with you, nothing could be like it. He brought tea for you… oh, and he ordered paper and quills and ink to be delivered here for you, from that little shop in French Street, for he wanted to be sure that you could write to him if you needed to, he said. The box is in the cupboard over there. He is so thoughtful and kind, and now that you are widowed, he no doubt thinks—”
“Then he had better think again,” she said savagely. “I cannot have a high opinion of the understanding of a man who pursues such a course on so flimsy a foundation. He saw me for half an hour with you, and an hour the following day, and that is not a solid basis for anything beyond the most casual acquaintance. What would happen if I were to call upon him for aid, friendly or otherwise? Why, it would raise all manner of speculation and expectation. No, I shall not take up his offer… generous though it is,” she added in an undertone. For there was something appealing about turning to a man for help, and placing all her problems in male hands. She had never been brought up to make her own way in the world, and the prospect of doing so now was overwhelming. What on earth was she to do? She was paralysed with indecision.
Maria, however, was not. Having been told of Mr Landon�
�s list of suggested courses of action and the letters signed by James, she exhorted Nell to put these to good use.
“There is no use in sitting in the house drinking tea and lamenting the situation,” Maria said firmly. “You were not used to be so passive, Nell. You were a high-spirited creature when I first knew you. Were you subdued like this at Daveney Hall?”
“Not so much,” Nell confessed. “It was a little like being young again. I felt… livelier, even though there were so many memories of Jude. But here…” She shivered. “Here I sit and wait, because that was what I did. I was always waiting.”
Waiting for Jude to come home. Waiting for him to go away again. And worst of all, waiting for his anger to rise, for the inevitable quarrel, for his fists. She had learnt in the most wretched fashion that standing up to his rage only inflamed him, so she had hoped that docility would appease him, but it never did.
Maria understood, though. “It is this house, of course.” She hugged Nell, and then said briskly, “Shall we start with the bank? Mr Vessey is such an agreeable man, and so helpful. Nothing would be more beneficial for you just now than to place all your worries in the hands of such a man.”
So they went to the bank again and showed Mr Vessey the letter from James, which seemed to have the desired effect.
“Not the least need for concern in the world, Mrs Caldicott,” the man said airily. “Delighted to oblige Sir James. I had not previously realised that you were a Godney. No, there will be no difficulty about the mortgage or the deficit in your late husband’s account. Take your time to settle your affairs, Mrs Caldicott. Take all the time in the world.” He laughed merrily, but Nell saw that it was just his way, and was not offended by his lightness.
Next they went the attorney and he too was most amenable. “Anything I can do to help, my dear Mrs Caldicott. As soon as the paperwork arrives from Cornwall, confirming the demise of your late husband, the will may be read, do you see? As soon as Mr Sherrard returns, we can proceed, but I can set your mind at rest on one point, in that the will leaves everything to your son. He is the heir, do you see? So the house and everything in it belongs to him, with my good self as trustee, and Sir James Godney as the boy’s guardian. So that is all most satisfactory, do you see?”
Nell was not sure about satisfactory, but it was certainly reassuring. They were not facing imminent homelessness, and that was something, but she still had no income, apart from the modest rent the Lloyds paid, and no obvious way to obtain any.
She sat down with Maria one morning to work out what they might do, and how they might economise.
“If we turn off Becky and the boy, that would save us a little,” Maria said.
“I suppose it has to be Becky,” Nell said slowly. “She is the most expensive servant we have. It is a pity, though. She keeps the place so clean. And Dick is useful for carrying things. Tilda is unwilling to lift anything, and she is not safe near anything breakable.”
“My girls will help,” Maria said. “Jane has a light hand for dusting, so she can do the parlour work, and we can all help beat carpets and so on.” She frowned. “I suppose I could find work elsewhere as a cook, for I am sure you would give me a good reference. That would leave you without anyone to take charge of the kitchen, though, and the Lloyds are paying for meals, so that is no good. However, Lucy is twelve now, so she is old enough to go into service, and she will send some of her wages home, I am sure.”
“This is dreadful,” Nell said. “Your girls should still be at their slates, not working for a living.”
“It is what most people have to do,” Maria said mildly. “Those of us brought up surrounded by servants have had it easy. Besides, for all your gloom when you returned from Daveney Hall, we are not yet destitute. We have some money enough to live upon. Not a lot, but enough.”
“Is it enough?” Nell said slowly. “There is the mortgage on the house, which will have to be addressed at some point. Mr Vessey is very generous but sooner or later we shall have to do something about it. And it is almost Lady Day, so all the bills will come in, and I have no money to pay them. Already I have had two bills presented to me — three guineas owed to Jude’s bootmaker, and twenty guineas to a solicitor in Portsmouth. Twenty guineas!”
“Why did Jude have a solicitor in Portsmouth?” Maria said.
“I have not the least idea. Well, I cannot pay it, so it will go in the drawer with the other bills, and it can stay there for now, until I can find some way to get more money. I doubt there will be any to spare, even if we never drink tea again. I shall have to earn something, too. But what can I do, Maria? All sorts of ideas float through my head but none of them seem possible. I cannot be a governess or companion, for how could I leave Louis behind?”
“No, you have to stay here,” Maria said. “Oh dear, this is so difficult! Money is a matter best dealt with by men. Could you not ask that charming Mr Harbottle for assistance? I am sure he would be very willing—”
“Maria, I could not possibly ask a virtual stranger to help me financially. It would place me under the most awkward kind of obligation. I suppose I could offer lessons upon the pianoforte. ‘Mrs Caldicott, a respectable widow, offers instruction in performance at all levels, including singing.’ There! That might work.”
Maria nodded eagerly. “Oh yes! But instead of a respectable widow, you should describe yourself as the former Miss Godney of Daveney Hall. Your brother is a baronet, my dear, so take advantage of that.”
“I am only the relict of the late Captain Judas Caldicott now,” Nell said sadly.
Judas… what had his parents been thinking of, to give him such an ill-omened name? And yet he had lived up to it, for had he not betrayed her, by lying about his time in the navy? And he had betrayed her in other ways, too. A husband should protect his wife from harm, not inflict it upon her.
Oh Jude… so much loved, once. So loving, once. What had happened to them, those young lovers? Gone. Gone for ever.
~~~~~
Mr Sherrard looked drawn and grey, seeming to have aged twenty years overnight. He had returned from Cornwall bearing the belongings of all those who had perished on the Brig Minerva, excepting only the Duke of Falconbury. A sad journey he must have had of it, his carriage laden with twenty two small parcels.
“It is not much to show for a man’s life,” he said grimly, looking at Jude’s parcel as it sat on the morning room table. “I am sorry his mortal remains could not be returned to you, Mrs Caldicott, but with so many dead… and the difficulties of travel at this time of year… you understand, I am sure. But I saw him into the ground at Pendower. I saw all of them into the ground.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing thumb and forefinger against the lids.
“I understand,” Nell said, feeling that she ought to offer some condolences but quite unable to do so. Everything to do with Jude had faded into the past. It was as if she had crossed a threshold at the moment he died, and now he had drifted away from her. While he lived, all her thoughts, her hopes, her fears had centred around him. But now that he was gone, he was not quite real any longer, and her mind was bent into more practical channels. Where would they find more money? How would they live? Dear God, how would they survive on so little?
“Five days on the road,” he said, half to himself, “and the weather filthy for most of it. I shall have to go back for the inquiry, too.” He looked at her searchingly. “You appreciate that there must be an official inquiry, both for the insurance company and for the satisfaction of the new Duke of Falconbury?”
“Of course.”
“And that… difficult questions will be asked? About your husband?”
She was silent. Of Jude’s seamanship, she had no doubts at all, for Mr Sherrard had always praised his abilities, and had not hesitated to offer him employment when the Helen of Troy had foundered. His worth as a captain was beyond dispute. But on other matters…
Mr Sherrard licked his lips. “Mrs Caldicott, were you aware that… that t
here might be some doubt about your late husband’s career in His Majesty’s Navy?”
So that was the problem. “I have heard rumours, but I cannot say—”
“No, no, of course! I do not suggest— But questions will be asked, unfortunately, and with the death of the duke… there is a great interest in the matter, which would not normally be the case. I would not normally mention such things, but I felt you should be prepared.”
“Thank you. That was thoughtful of you, sir.”
He looked at her worriedly. “Are you all right, Mrs Caldicott? You seem… very composed. Very calm.”
“I am perfectly all right.” Then, because he seemed to expected something more, she added, “I am not the type of person to fall into hysteria, Mr Sherrard.”
“No, of course you are not.” He rose, as if to leave, and she rose from her seat also. If only he would go away! She could not sit and make polite conversation, not any more. She had her survival to think about, which was of far greater significance than Jude’s career, and whether he had ever been in the navy or not.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, fishing in a pocket and producing a brightly coloured object. “There. You had better have that.”
She took it automatically. A purse. “What is this?”
“Captain Caldicott’s salary for this quarter, paid up to Lady Day. And his bonus.”
“Oh.” She stared at it stupidly, suddenly aware of the weight of it. Coins! Money. “His salary. Thank you.”
“You had better check that it is correct.”
“Check that—? Oh, you wish me to… to count it? Now?”
“If you please. And then sign my book to say that you have received it.”
“Oh. I see.” She felt disoriented, adrift. A salary? Money? But it could not be very much. Enough to pay the butcher, perhaps. But Mr Sherrard was waiting for her, so she slid the rings to open the purse, and tipped the contents onto the table.
So many coins, that was her first thought. A small roll of paper money, and a great many coins.
The Widow (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 1) Page 9
