“Nonsense. I won’t let you torment yourself with things over which you have no control. What occurred to Emily was tragic indeed, but I feel she was beyond saving. Her mind and soul had long been troubled by the events happening to her. She saw no future for herself because of the child. Can any of us be surprised by what she did? To her, in her mind, her life was already over. All she had to do was physically escape.”
“But it is the tragedy of her downfall that we must prevent, Miss Douglas. We must find these women, these good intelligent women, decent situations with the remuneration they deserve so they can live a life without hardship and degradation when they are out of work.”
“You cannot mend the entire population of unemployed women, Mr Belfroy. It is impossible.”
He jerked to his feet, his eyes damp. “I must try, Miss Douglas. I cannot sit by idle.”
Nicola stood and placed her hand gently on his arm. “Mr Belfroy, you, of all men, are the least idle. You know what good work you do here.”
He looked her directly in the eyes. “It is not enough, my dear, and never will be.”
The following day, Nicola sat at her desk supposedly working, but she couldn’t focus. Instead, she spent half an hour staring out the little window, which overlooked the neighbour’s back garden. With a sigh, she put away her pen and wiped her tired eyes. Misery weighed on the house’s occupants like a heavy chest cold.
Restless, she stepped to the door. Perhaps a swift walk would lift the mood. From the kitchen came the crashing sound of crockery being dropped and Cook’s cursing at Hannah. Sighing, Nicola quickly donned her shawl and hat and slipped from the house before someone spotted her.
A slight breeze swayed the topmost tree branches. The bright sunshine made Nicola close her eyes and raise her face up to it. Spring flowers of daffodils, snowdrops and bluebells reminiscent of English gardens had burst into bloom in the small gardens she passed. She wished the lodging house had a good garden of its own, instead of the square patch of lawn and the one large tree in the middle. In fact, she wished the lodgings had more space entirely, both inside and out.
At the end of the street she turned left and not right as usual. The noise of the harbour and docks didn’t appeal today, but a quiet walk around the suburban streets of Double Bay suited her more. The houses in this area were well cared for, with large lawns and sweeping verandahs.
She’d walked for nearly ten minutes, admiring the blossom on fruit trees that offered up their scents from behind wooden fences, when she paused in front of one large two-story brick house set back from the road and with extensive lawns. On the gate a sign read “For Sale”.
“For sale,” she whispered, her mind whirling with ideas. The house was well positioned on the high side of the road and the top floor would likely have a view of the harbour. Edging the lawns were tall palms, banana trees and immature Norfolk Pines, and all gave the garden a touch of some tropical paradise.
“Miss Douglas?”
Nicola whirled around to the slowing carriage. She hadn’t heard it approach. Mr West poked his head out of the door. She sucked in a deep breath at the sight of him. How much easier her life would be without the bothersome reactions she had to this man. “Good day, Mr West.”
He climbed down from the carriage and bowed over her hand. “I didn’t believe my eyes when I saw you there. You are the last person I expected to be here.” He looked up at the house. “Do I have a contender for this house?”
She blinked in surprise. “You are looking to buy this property?”
“Yes, I am. At least I’m thinking about it.” He grinned, tilting his head to study her. “Does Mr Belfroy pay you so well that you can afford such a house?”
“You are making fun of me, sir.”
“Indeed, I am.” He glanced down at the ground and then back to her face. For once, sincerity clouded his eyes. “I am ill-mannered, forgive me.”
“I am not so unbending as to not take a joke, Mr West.” She managed a small smile, not knowing why she wanted to make him feel better. Blushing, she turned back to view the house. “If I was fortunate enough to be able to purchase this house, I’d turn it into a home for governesses and middle class ladies in need.”
“Really?” His bland expression gave no hint of his thoughts. “Would you care to see inside? I have the keys.”
She stepped away, shaking her head. “Thank you, but no. It is futile to torment one’s self for things they can never have.”
His soft smile transformed his handsome face into something so wondrous, of such startling male beauty, Nicola felt robbed of all thought. He held out his hand. “Indulge me, please.”
Mindless, she allowed him to guide her through the gate, up the path and onto the wide verandah. She stood still as he unlocked the door and then he ushered her inside the square entrance hall.
Rooms led off the hall left and right, but the main feature, a magnificent central staircase dominated it. Nicola ran her hands over the polished timber banister and gazed upwards at the large landing at the top.
She glided from room to room, the drawing room, front parlour, the library and dining room. In some rooms, the cornices were moulded in designs of cherubs and flowers, others had mock silk Chinese wallpaper covering the top half of the walls, differing in colour in each room, while the bottom half was timber panelled. Large windows let in plenty of light. She finished her tour in a study decorated in dark red.
“It is a worthy house, yes?”
She turned to him and nodded, unable to speak. The house was the exact kind she would want to live in.
“I will buy it,” he whispered, “I’ll buy it for you.”
Nicola stared at him as though he’d spoken a foreign language. His words floated around in her mind, but made no sense.
“Nicola,” he took her hand, ‘may I call you Nicola? It’s such a beautiful name and suits a magnificent woman such as you.” He stepped closer, his eyes darkening as though burning with some inner fire. “Nicola, marry me, please.”
“Mr-marry? You?” She couldn’t breathe.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is that so awful?”
“But you do not know me, or I you.”
“Then we must rectify that.” He brought her hand up and gently placed his lips to it and the strength went from her legs.
“I cannot marry.”
“Why ever not?” He laughed lightly, though she found nothing funny about it.
“Because…because I am a governess…”
“And there is a law against governesses marrying?”
“No, but…” Her mouth went dry as he lowered his head, stopping inches from her face.
“Nicola, marry me. I’ll make you happy. I promise.”
As if pulled by an invisible string she swayed forward, their lips touching, but the physical contact sprang her drugged mind awake and she jerked back, shocked at her behaviour. “I must go!”
“Nicola.” His violet eyes held a promise of delights, of hidden sensations that he could give her.
“No. Don’t call me that. You...we…” She touched her lips with her fingertips, frightened by the intensity of him. It was as thought the very air about them was charged. Trembling, she walked backwards, putting space between them. If he touched her she believed she would lose her mind, she was sure of it. How could he arouse such desperate feelings in her from a mere glance of those eyes of his? She was terribly afraid that if he laid a hand on her she would beg him to never stop...
“Nicola, please...”
“I cannot.” She shook her head, not knowing her mind.
“Why?” His pained passionate plea broke her heart.
“We are too different! I know nothing about you.”
“Let me court you, please.”
“No. We aren’t even friends. You-” Choking on a sob, she fled the house and the tantalising Nathaniel West.
Chapter Nine
Standing, hands on hips, Nicola glared at the cook lolling on th
e floor, her legs spread wide and an empty bottle of gin nestled in her arms. The beginnings of a meal lay scattered across the table. “Mrs Nesbit, will you get up!”
“Can’t. Me legsth won’t work…” She hiccupped and laughed.
Nicola glanced at Meg who, having divested her outdoor clothes, came to stand beside her. “Mrs Nesbit is drunk.”
Meg sniffed. “Half her luck.”
“Meg!”
Shrugging, Meg headed for the hallway. “Let her sleep it off.”
“And have no dinner?”
“Who can eat anyway?”
Nicola gave the intoxicated woman a small kick in frustration. “You have no decency. Now get up.” When the cook fell sleepily to one side, Nicola cursed and stormed from the kitchen. In the study, she stopped by the window and massaged her temples. The day had been trying enough with Emily’s funeral without coming back to find Mrs Nesbit in that state and the maid nowhere to be found. Why did this country have such dreadful servants? They’d both have to go, but who’d replace them? She shook the thought away, not prepared to deal with it today.
A slight tap interrupted her thoughts and the door opened to reveal Mr Belfroy. “Ah, Miss Douglas, sorry to disturb you.”
“Not at all, Mr Belfroy, do come in.”
He stood just inside the door, his hat brim being mangled in his thick fingers.
Nicola frowned, for the kind man was usually at ease in her company. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“There is indeed, my dear.”
“Sit down, please.”
“I cannot stay…” He straightened, taking a deep breath. “I was wondering if you could manage a few more ladies here.”
“More?”
“I’ve found a small hostel down near the Rocks area. A disgusting place with a ruinous reputation.” Anger flashed in his weary eyes.
“And there are ladies there? Governesses?” She couldn’t help sounding doubtful, as the Rocks area was notorious for habituating the worst sort of people.
“Yes, at least one lady is, or was. She is in very poor spirits.”
“But you think there could be more than one lady?”
“I’m certain of two staying there. The-the other woman, Miss Rogers, needs immediate help. She is with child…Unmarried. Not a governess, but a lady’s maid recently arrived from England. Her virtue was stolen aboard the ship. There is an inquiry into the matter...” His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry this has come so soon after Miss Downing. I quite understand if you refuse-”
“Of course we must help them.” Nicola started for the door. “Give me a moment to gather my things.”
“You are a good woman, Miss Douglas.”
“Who can turn their back on those in need?” She smiled grimly, thinking of Emily Downing and how she hadn’t been able to help her. Pushing the thought away, she marched into the hallway. This was her job, her duty now. It was what she had agreed to do. Besides, keeping busy kept her mind off a certain handsome man with the eyes that seemed to burn through her soul.
In the carriage, Mr Belfroy gave her more details as they made their way through the poorest area of the city to the infamous Rocks area. “I do understand, Miss Douglas, your reluctance in accommodating more women. The house is becoming too small.”
“And we have unreliable staff, Mr Belfroy, to help us.”
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I have put my house up for sale and the proceeds will be used to purchase a more spacious house for you.”
Nicola stared at him. “Oh, Mr Belfroy, is that necessary?”
“You know our predicament, it is the least I can do.”
“But where will you live?”
The carriage slowed and Mr Belfroy opened the door to the sharp noises of the docks. “I shall rent an adequate apartment in town. My needs are small since I have withdrawn from society. I much prefer to have things this way. There is no point in trying to persuade me, my mind is made up.” He descended from the carriage and then helped her down.
Nicola gazed around in disgust. She had only been to this foreshore end of the Rocks once, with Frances, and had never wanted to repeat the visit. She was amazed at the difference a few hundred yards could make, for up on the hill, wealthy families lived in style. Yet down at the water’s edge, the worst kind of debauchery occurred. The fresh salt breeze from the harbour couldn’t remove the rot of human refuse. Mean little alleys criss-crossed the streets at this point of the harbourside. Docks and wharfs had long been established here, but with the flourishing industry came the lowest aspects of society, who frequented the public houses, brothels and opium dens. Effluent and general rubbish crammed the sides of the road, the buildings were rundown and in various states of ruin. The smell of rotting refuse filled her nose, making her gag. How could anyone live in such conditions?
“This way, my dear.” Mr Belfroy took her elbow and guided her around the stinking piles of goodness knows what and into a laneway boarded by stone terrace houses rising up the steep incline. “The hostel is further along, and, if one can be generous enough to say so, it’s in a slightly better street than this one. Only, the carriage is too wide for it.”
She nodded, holding a handkerchief to her nose and prayed they wouldn’t be attacked and robbed. A mangy dog peed against a wall and from the opposite side of the street a rough-looking man emerged from a doorway and stared at them.
At the end of another dirty, neglected street, Mr Belfroy entered a two-story building. Its upper floor held a balcony from which hung copious amounts of washing.
Inside the dimly lit corridor, they made for a decaying staircase. At the top, a man and a woman, barely decently covered, leaned against a wall chatting. Nicola glared, fighting the urge to speak her mind about their slovenly ways, but Mr Belfroy turned left and she shuddered at the thought of being left behind. In another room a door was opened showing a couple kissing on an unmade bed. Nicola stared at the sensual way the man stroked the woman. Her stomach tightened for she immediately thought of Nathaniel West. Hurrying along, she blocked out other images and sounds coming from various rooms. It seemed the place was nothing more than a brothel.
The second last door on the right was open. Mr Belfroy knocked but the woman on the bed didn’t respond. “Miss Rogers, I have returned as promised.”
Nicola entered the badly lit room and crept closer to the rusty iron bed. “Miss Rogers, I’m Nicola Douglas.”
The woman, her eyes sunken and with dark shadows bruising the delicate skin beneath, turned to stare at her. “You must go away.”
“Why?” Nicola crouched beside the bed.
“Because I am bad, terribly bad.”
“I’m sure that is not true.” Nicola smiled in reassurance. “Come, gather your things. I wish for you to return home with me.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done…I carry a child.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
“I was wanton.” Her face screwed up in misery. “He promised to marry me, but he abandoned me. I had nothing…He took my money, everything and left only empty promises. I hate him, but not as much as I hate myself for my weakness...”
“Come, let me help you.” Nicola aided the thin woman, dressed in rags, to stand. Her body was wasted from starvation, yet her stomach was large with child. Images of Emily clouded Nicola’s mind as she helped Miss Rogers out of the room. Could she really go through it again? Was she strong enough to bear this woman’s burdens too?
“I shall give the child away to the orphanage,” Miss Rogers murmured, slipping her feet into scuffed shoes. “You will help me to do that?”
“Yes.” Nicola aided her to the door, filled with despair for this poor woman.
“Thank you. Then I may start again, move away... I always wanted to visit Africa, or even India... Yes, that is what I’ll do.” Decision made, Miss Rogers breathed a deep sigh and sagged against Nicola as though the act of talking had taken her last strength.
Mr Belf
roy stepped forward and took Miss Rogers by the waist and half carried her. “I’ll take her down to the carriage and then return for you. Miss Barker’s room is the next room along.”
Nicola left them and headed down the dark silent corridor. She tapped on the door and it was wrenched opened by a tiny woman dressed entirely in black, holding her bag. “Miss Douglas?”
“Yes.”
“Oh good, Mr Belfroy mentioned you might come for me. I’m Miss Georgina Barker. I’ve been waiting, you see, praying you would come for me. Mr Belfroy did speak of me?”
“Yes, he did. I’m here to take you back to the lodging house I manage.”
“Oh, thank you.” She bustled out of the room and slammed the door with a resounding bang. “Good riddance to this fifthly place. Once I’m in respectable accommodation I know I’ll find work more suitable than what I’ve been doing.”
“Which was?”
Miss Barker stormed down the corridor. “Needlework. Not that needlework isn’t respectable, it is, but I’m a teacher. I’ve been taking in needlework for the last few weeks, but then my glasses broke and I’ve been unable to afford to have them replaced and I cannot work without them. Sadly, things have rather gone downhill from there.”
Nicola had to hurry to keep up. “Were you originally a governess, Miss Barker?”
“Indeed yes. But now I plan to take the Teacher’s Certificate and teach in a government school. Mr Belfroy said he’ll pay for me until I have a position. The man is a saint indeed.” Miss Barker chatted all the way to the carriage and, once inside it, she smiled at Miss Rogers. “Cheer up, we’ll be just fine now.” She took Miss Rogers’s hand and held it all the way to the lodgings as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
* * *
“Dare you not face me anymore, Nicola?”
Nicola looked up from her desk and frowned in surprise as Frances strode into the study. “Good day, Frances. It’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Is it?” Frances marched to the desk and threw her gloves on it. Today she wore her split trouser-skirt and also her scowl. Her hair stood on end as though she’d raked her hands through it numerous times. She looked like she was either ready for war or just participated in one.
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