Norina gave a little gasp of sheer disappointment.
Then, because it was so important, she said pleadingly in a very different tone of voice,
“Please, monsieur, please give me a chance – I promise you I will do – everything that is – required of me, and it’s very important that I – obtain a position immediately.”
There was a pause before the man asked,
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I have – nowhere to go and I have to – earn my living.”
“You mean, you have no money?”
“Very little, monsieur, but what is more important is that I should find – somewhere to – stay.”
She almost said ‘to hide’ and then checked herself at the last minute.
There was what seemed to her to be a long silence.
Then he said,
“I must explain that I am asking for a secretary who is completely trustworthy and will not betray anything that I say or do to anybody else.”
“Of course, monsieur, that is understood.”
“But – women talk and you are a woman!”
“That is – something I cannot help, but I – swear to – you that if you – employ me, I will be – completely loyal and would never – do anything that might – hurt or harm you in any way.”
She did not quite know why she used those words, but she felt perceptively that they were somehow appropriate.
Again there was a long pause before the man said,
“How can I be sure that I can trust you? Because I am blind, you will have to read my letters, however private and personal they may be.”
“That, of course, I understand, and if you – employed a man you would – expect him to behave – like a gentleman. I can only – promise you, monsieur, that I will – behave like a Lady.”
“That is what I am afraid of!”
There was, however, a hint of laughter in the man’s voice and it struck Norina that he did not sound as old as she had been led to believe.
Because she felt that she was losing rather than gaining ground, she said,
“I do not know – how I can promise you that – everything I do for you will remain – a secret, except if I say that I vow it on – everything I hold sacred.”
“Are you a Roman Catholic?” the man asked.
Norina hesitated and then she told the truth,
“I was baptised a Roman Catholic because my mother was one, but because she adored my father and wanted always to be with him, they worshipped together in the village Church, and I with them.”
“But she had you baptised in her own faith!”
“Yes, monsieur, but I believe that God hears our prayers whatever – label is put on us – so it is not – important.”
“That is a very interesting explanation!”
Again there was a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.
“Please – please, monsieur, give me – a chance!” Norina pleaded again.
She had a sudden fear that after all they had said, he would tell her to go away and she would then have to face the horror of what was awaiting her in her father’s house.
It seemed as if a century passed before the man in front of the fire said slowly,
“If I answer that question in the affirmative, how soon could you come to me?”
“Do you – mean that, do you – really mean it?” Norina asked him.
Now there was a lilt in her voice that had not been there before.
Then, as she realised that she had not answered his question, she replied,
“I can come – this afternoon, I just have to – collect my luggage.”
“Very well, madame, I will expect you in two or three hours’ time.”
“Thank you, oh, thank you, monsieur, you are very kind! I can only say – again that I will never let – you down and I am grateful – more grateful than I can put into words.”
She rose to her feet as she spoke, but before she could step forward to shake his hand, he must have pressed a bell.
The door opened and Jean came quickly into the room.
“Madame is fetching her luggage,” the man in the chair said, “and will join us in a few hours.”
Jean opened the door wider and waited for Norina to leave the room.
She looked back at the top of the head that she could just see above the armchair.
“Merci Monsieur, merci beaucoup,” she said and walked out into the hall.
She followed Jean and he opened the front door for her.
“I am very glad that I am coming back here,” she said in French.
“Moi aussi, madame,” he replied.
He bowed as she went down the steps and then she heard the door closr behind her.
She hurried down the street, knowing that Dawes would join her.
It would, however, be a mistake for Jean to realise that a man had been outside waiting for her.
Dawes did not come to her side until she was almost in Berkeley Square.
“You’ve got the position, Miss Norina?” he asked.
“I have it, Dawes! It was difficult and I thought at first he would send me away because I was a woman.”
“That’s good news, very good news!” Dawes exclaimed. “And when do you start?”
“As soon as I can collect my luggage.”
As she spoke, Norina realised that that in itself was another problem.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about that, Miss Norina,” Dawes said. “I’ll go back and pack your things and bring ’em to you at Mrs. Rolo’s.”
“But – supposing my stepmother sees you and asks questions?”
Dawes drew a watch from his breast pocket and looked at it.
“It be after a quarter past noon,” he said, “and ’er Ladyship’s attendin’ a large luncheon party. She’ll be leavin’ the house in a quarter-of-an-hour.”
Norina gave a sigh of relief.
“Then you can pack everything for me, Dawes, and it had better be everything I possess. It would be a mistake to spend money unnecessarily.”
Even as she spoke she gave a little cry.
“Money!” she exclaimed. “I must have some money with me! I have very little in my purse, having paid cash for my hat.”
“I thinks of that, Miss Norina,” Dawes said, “and I suggests we go to the bank so’s you can cash a cheque. You’ve got your chequebook with you?”
“It’s in my handbag,” Norina replied.
Dawes hailed a Hackney carriage and they climbed into it.
He gave the name of Lord Sedgewyn’s bank to the cab driver and told him it was in Mount Street.
As they drove along, Norina drew her chequebook from her handbag.
“Perhaps,” she said as she looked at it, “it would be a mistake for me to go inside the bank as I have been there with Papa.”
“I’ll fetch out an inkpot and pen for you, Miss Norina,” Dawes said, “and say you’ve ’urt your foot and it’s painful to walk on.”
Norina gave a little laugh.
“So many lies! I am sure you remember, as Nanny always said, ‘one lie leads to another and all lies lead to Hell’!”
“That’s one place you’re ain’t goin’, not if I have anythin’ to do with it!” Dawes exclaimed stoutly.
When they reached the bank, there was no difficulty.
Dawes, as he said he would, fetched her pen and ink and Norina wrote out a cheque for three hundred pounds.
“It seems so much money,” she said, “but you never know, my stepmother might instruct the bank to alert her if I go in for any more.”
“You keep it well hidden,” Dawes warned. “No one will suspect a person who’s earning her living to ’ave much money.”
As an afterthought he asked,
“Did the gentleman say ’ow much he was a-payin’ you?”
“No and I did not think to ask him.”
“I should ’ave reminded you, miss, as to them that ’as to work, money’s import
ant.”
“I realise that,” Norina said, “but I have the feeling that he will be generous.”
She did not say any more. Yet she felt that Dawes was somewhat sceptical, as if he thought she was going to be cheated.
The Hackney carriage took them back to Shepherd Market. Norina slipped quickly into Mrs. Rolo’s house, hoping that nobody noticed her.
Dawes kept the carriage and drove back to Park Street.
He was too sensible to drive up to the house, and jumped out at the corner.
Norina had given him the money to pay the cab driver.
When she had tried to give him something for himself, he refused.
“You’ll need every penny yourself, Miss Norina,” he said, “and don’t go bein’ too generous with it either. They’ll expect a woman as is ’ard-up to count the coppers.”
“Then that is what I will do, Dawes,” Norina promised. “But don’t forget – if you ever need anything – you only have to ask me.”
She thought as she spoke that she would much rather Dawes had her money than her evil stepmother.
At the same time it seemed horrible that any woman, or man for that matter, would be prepared to kill her just because they coveted her money.
She was touched to find that Mrs. Rolo had prepared an elaborate meal for her.
“How kind of you to take so much trouble!” she exclaimed.
She sat down in the small kitchen that shone as cleanly as the rest of the house.
“I enjoys having someone to cook for,” Mrs. Rolo said, “and to tell the truth, miss, I loves company. I misses me old man more than I can possibly say!”
“When did he die?” Norina asked.
“Nigh on four year ago! I wept me eyes out every night till Andrew come along to cheer me up.”
“It is good for him to have you now that he is in London so much with my father,” Norina said.
“That’s what he says,” Mrs. Rolo agreed. “But he spends too much time with me, which is kind. I tells him there’s plenty of young girls only too willing’ to step into my shoes.”
“I am sure that he would rather be with you,” Norina said.
She enjoyed her luncheon.
When it was finished, Mrs. Rolo hurried into the shop and Norina sat waiting for Dawes to return.
When he did, she peeped out of the window and saw that the Hackney carriage in which he had arrived was filled with her luggage.
He must, she thought, have remembered everything she had brought with her from the country. This included two or three mauve gowns she had worn as half-mourning for her mother.
They at least might come in useful when she was working for the blind man. He would not be able to see what she was wearing.
‘Equally I must be careful,’ she told herself.
As Dawes had said to her, servants talk.
He came into the kitchen and she exclaimed,
“I can see you must have remembered everything! How clever you are!”
“Just as I thinks, Miss Norina,” Dawes said, “’Er Ladyship had gone out, but it seems she’s asked a lot of questions about you and where you was.”
“What did she say?” Norina asked nervously.
“I thinks,” Dawes answered, “although no one else realises it, ’er was very surprised to find you weren’t lyin’ as dead as poor Ginger this mornin’!”
Norina shivered.
“Did she ask where I had gone?”
“Mr. Bolton tells ’er you must ’ave slipped out after breakfast, as ’e didn’t see you leave the ’ouse. Then he says to her, ‘I suspects as ’ow Miss Norina’s gone to ’er Ladyship. I knowed as ’ow she were lunchin’ with ’er to-day’.”
Norina put her fingers up to her lips.
“Oh, Dawes, I forgot! I was supposed to be lunching with my aunt and, of course, I should have let her know.”
“You leave things as they be,” Dawes said. “You’ve got away and that’s all that matters for the moment.”
“Did they not think it strange that you were packing my luggage and taking it away with you?”
“I tells ’em you was goin’ to the country for a few days with some friends and you asked me to pack your clothes and convey them to Victoria Station.”
“Oh, Dawes, did they believe that?”
“’Course they does!” Dawes replied with a grin. “And when I gets back, I’ll say as a servant I’ve never set me eyes on afore comes for your luggage and I leaves it with ’im.”
Norina laughed.
Dawes’s tale was so evasive that it would be a long time before anybody realised that she was nowhere to be found and yet he could not possibly be held responsible for her disappearance.
“You are very clever!” she enthused. “And you know how grateful I am.”
“I don’t know what you’ll think of this,” Dawes said, holding out a paper bag as he spoke.
Before she opened it, Norina guessed what it contained.
It was quite a pretty wig of dark brown hair and it was obviously made to be worn on the stage and was curled and elegantly arranged with a chignon at the back.
Norina had taken off her widow’s hat while she was having luncheon. Now, lifting up the wig, she ran to the mirror that hung on a wall.
It was a little tight, but it fitted her quite neatly and if she arranged the black ribbon where the wig joined her forehead, no one would suspect for a moment that it was not her own hair.
It certainly made her look very different and she was sure that even her father would not recognise her if he saw her unexpectedly.
“It ain’t bad!” Dawes said with satisfaction.
“It’s beautiful and I look different without being too ugly!”
“You could never be that, Miss Norina,” Dawes said loyally. “But you don’t look like yourself and that’s a fact!”
Norina arranged her widow’s hat on top of the wig and then put on the spectacles.
“The only thing I am afraid of,” she said, “is being seen unexpectedly. If I suddenly appear looking like myself, I might be turned out of the house for being an impostor.”
“You be very careful, Miss Norina!” Dawes warned in a serious voice. “And if you get into any trouble, you come right back ’ere to me – do you understand?”
“Of course I understand, Dawes, and I will do exactly as you say, but I cannot see myself getting into any trouble of the sort you are so afraid of.”
Dawes shook his head.
“You can’t trust them there Frenchies,” he said. “If the old gentleman ’as a lot of friends, you keep outa sight. Remember, ’er Ladyship will be lookin’ for you and careless words can cost a man ’is life!”
“Or a woman’s,” Norina added beneath her breath.
Then with an effort she forced a smile to her lips.
“You have been so marvellous over this, Dawes,” she said, “and one day I will be able to tell Papa how kind you have been to me. Promise that you will tell me if anything happens to him? And, of course, warn me if my stepmother appears to be on my track?”
“Just you let me know if you ’as to move on, Miss Norina. That French gentleman might wish to go ’ome.
“I hope he does!” Norina replied. “I shall feel safe if I am far away in France.”
“Wherever you goes, you write to me ’ere,” Dawes suggested. “I’ll call round every day to see if there’s a word from you.”
“Thank you for that, Dawes. There is nothing else I can say except thank you again and again!”
She put out her hand and Dawes shook it solemnly.
He opened the door for her and quickly, so as not to draw attention to herself, she hurried into the carriage.
Dawes gave the cabbie the address and they drove off.
It took them only a very short time to reach the house in Hill Street.
Norina found that she had quite a large sum to pay the cab driver, but she knew, because Jean was listening as he carried in her luggage, it w
ould appear that she had come a long distance.
“I am afraid I have quite a number of trunks with me,” she said apologetically, “but I have come up from the country and brought everything I possess.”
Jean did not reply.
She thought he looked rather grumpy at having to take so many luggage upstairs. It involved a number of journeys for both him and the manservant.
Her bedroom was large and comfortable and her trunks had been piled against one wall.
She sat down in front of the mirror and very carefully removed her hat and then she took off the small jacket that went with her gown.
Very neatly she arranged the black ribbon so that it concealed the edge of the wig at the hairline.
She felt she was looking at a stranger, but at the same time she looked older.
Just as she was wondering what she should do next, there was a knock on the door.
Quickly she put on her spectacles before she crossed the room to open it.
Jean was standing outside.
“The Master wishes to see you, madame,” he said in French.
It was an improvement on his very bad English and Norina replied,
“I will come at once. If he requires me to write any letters for him, I am afraid I shall need ink and a pen, which I do not have with me.”
“I will see to it, madame,” Jean replied.
She followed him down the stairs.
When he opened the door of the room she had been in before, she saw to her relief that the curtains were drawn back and that the sunshine was shining through the windows.
The armchair in which the blind man had been sitting had now been moved from the front of the fireplace to the side.
For a moment Norina stood just inside the door, taking in her surroundings and now, for the first time, she was able to see the man who had employed her.
One quick glance told her that he was quite different from what she had expected.
His eyes were heavily bandaged and she could not see above the end of his nose.
She realised, however, now that she could see his mouth and chin, that he was not, as she had understood, an old man.
She had seen the top of his head, but now she could see that he had thick dark hair. It was brushed back from what, when it was not bandaged, should be a high forehead.
He was tall and certainly more broad-shouldered than she would have expected of a Frenchman.
Too Precious to Lose Page 5
