He shrugged. ‘I haven’t really been here long enough to judge, ma’am, although I do already know it’s very different to England – certainly out here in the garden. I don’t even know what some of these flowers are. The only ones I recognise are the roses.’
‘Ah yes, the roses. Phineas, my husband, had them brought out for me from England.’ She sighed. ‘Sadly, many of them died, but those over there in the shady corner have managed to survive. ‘These here’ – she pointed to some flowers – ‘are waratahs, and these are part of the myrtle family, they are called callistemon or bottlebrushes because of their shape. And these are my particular favourites.’ She paused in front of some cone-shaped, startlingly red flowers that he saw on closer inspection actually consisted of thousands of tiny flowers. ‘These come in many different shades and are called banksia. They are quite beautiful, aren’t they?’ When he nodded in agreement, she smiled again. ‘They are all native to Australia, unlike the roses.’
‘I shall do my best to tend them well for you, ma’am,’ he answered politely. ‘Although I’m not sure there’s much I can do to help the lawn.’ He gazed at it with a frown. There was barely any grass to be seen and what there was was parched and brown.
‘It will green up again when we have some rain,’ the woman assured him. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘Very well, thank you.’ He glanced towards the small shack tucked away in the corner of the garden that was his new home. It wasn’t much, but it had a bed and a table and chair, and he considered that he was lucky. He might well have been sent to one of the prisons or forced to work long hours on a farm for one of the settlers; here he was allowed to eat with the rest of the staff in the kitchen, and the food was plentiful.
‘I am glad,’ she told him. ‘My husband felt you deserved a chance after hearing the glowing report about you from the Captain. Should you need anything or have any concerns, do come and see me, Charlie.’
‘Thank you again, ma’am; I will.’ Charlie turned back to the job he was doing, and when he glanced up a few minutes later, the woman and her lovely daughters were gone. As yet he hadn’t met the governor, but if he turned out to be half as nice as his family, Charlie knew that they would get on.
Since starting there, the staff had found him many small jobs to do in and around the house and grounds, and thankfully he had been able to turn his hand to all of them. He actually enjoyed living in his little shack, sitting outside of an evening staring up at the star-studded sky, although it did get lonely sometimes when he thought of home and his sisters. Every single day he wondered how they were and what they were doing, but not knowing where either of them were, he couldn’t even write to them; all he could do was pray that they were safe.
He had been told that the governor would meet him when he had the chance, and that came early the following morning when one of the maids came into the garden to find him.
‘The governor will see you now, Charlie,’ she told him. ‘If you come with me, I’ll show you to his office.’
Charlie quickly flattened his hair as best he could and wiped his hands down his trousers, before following her through the large kitchen and into a beautiful hallway. There were highly polished black and white tiles on the floor, and Charlie almost felt afraid to walk on them. As they passed one doorway, the sound of a piano reached them and the maid smiled at him. ‘That’s Miss Juliet having her music lesson,’ she whispered. ‘She’s very gifted musically and can play a number of instruments. But here we are.’ She stopped in front of some oak double doors set to one side of the entrance. ‘This is the governor’s office. Just tap and go in; he’s expecting you.’
Suddenly nervous, Charlie gulped. Then he straightened his back and rapped on the door.
‘Come in!’
Charlie stepped into an enormous office. One wall was completely covered in shelves from floor to ceiling, and he found himself gazing at the hundreds of books crammed on to them. In the centre of the room, almost hidden behind a pile of papers, a man sat at a huge desk.
He stood up and smiled a greeting. ‘Ah, Charlie Sharp, I believe. Take a seat. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to meet you before, but as you can see, the paperwork is endless. I never seem to get on top of it.’
He was a very tall man – well over six foot, Charlie thought – and he was powerfully built and handsome, with thick fair wavy hair and grey eyes.
‘It’s all right, sir.’ Charlie took the seat in front of the desk, and when the governor sat back down, he eyed him for a moment before informing him, ‘You have the doctor and the captain to thank for being here. I do not usually employ convicts, so perhaps you could tell me why you were sent here. I would appreciate your honesty.’
Charlie licked his lips, praying that he wasn’t about to lose his position. ‘I was sentenced for theft, sir.’
‘I see.’ The governor steepled his fingers and stared at him as if he could see into his very soul. ‘And were you guilty of the crime?’
‘Not of the one I was sentenced for but . . .’ He paused for a moment. ‘I was guilty of stealing some time before this incident happened. You see, our parents died and myself and my brother and sisters took shelter in a derelict cottage . . .’ The terrible story of what had happened to his family poured out of him, and he found it was a relief to finally get it off his chest. ‘So you see, even though I did intend to hand the wallet to the magistrate when he dropped it, I was guilty of another theft and I deserve to be here . . .’ His voice tailed away, as he stared miserably down at his clenched hands.
There was silence for a moment, but then the governor said, ‘I appreciate you being honest with me, Charlie. Not many people would be. But even so, you must accept that you are only here on a trial. To be honest, there isn’t really enough work in and about the house and garden to keep you busy full-time, but the captain told me that you had kept his log for him while you were at sea and that you can read and write, so I was wondering . . . well, the thing is, my deputy of some years had to leave to return temporarily to England recently because of a family bereavement and as you can see the paperwork is piling up and getting rather out of control.’ He spread his hands towards the teetering piles of paper and sighed. ‘As the governor of the island, it is part of my job to keep a record of each of the prisoners that are brought here. Do you think you would be capable of writing the reports the overseers bring in if I showed you how to do it?’
Charlie nodded eagerly. ‘I could certainly try, sir.’
‘Hm!’ The governor sat back and surveyed him closely for a moment, before making a decision. ‘In that case I am prepared to give it a go, but I must point out that if it doesn’t go well, I shall have you placed with one of the settlers and you will work out the rest of your sentence with them.’
Charlie nodded. ‘I understand fully, sir, but I won’t let you down, I promise. I can turn my hand to most things and I’m willing to tackle any job, big or small.’
‘Then we shall need to get you some clothes more suitable for working in the house.’
Charlie looked down at the only clothes he possessed and flushed. He had tried to wash them as best he could each evening so that they dried overnight, but they were very old and shabby.
The governor unlocked a drawer in his desk and pulled out some money, which he handed to Charlie. Could Charlie have known it, this would be his first test.
‘I want you to go down into the town and visit Mr Schwartz. He has a tailor’s shop in the main street; you can’t miss it.’ He hastily scribbled a note and handed it to Charlie. ‘Give him this, and then when you’re done there, go to Mr Jones, the bootmaker. He is three shops down, and give him this one.’ He scribbled another note and handed that to Charlie too. ‘And that’s all for now,’ he said quietly, still intently studying the young man in front of him. ‘When you’ve finished, come back and report to me.’
‘Yes, sir . . . and thank you, sir.’ Charlie rose hastily from his chair.
Once he had
left the room, the governor crossed to the window and watched the boy’s progress down the drive.
‘You took my advice then and decided to give him a chance . . . yes?’
A gentle touch on his arm made the governor start and, turning, he found his wife standing close behind him. He put his arms around her as he rested his chin on the top of her shining black hair. She was dressed in a bright-yellow satin gown today and reminded him of one of the exotic butterflies that often landed in their garden. He and Isabella had been married for almost twenty years, and he didn’t regret a single day of it. If anything, he adored her more now than he had on the day they had wed, and he set great store by her opinion.
‘Yes, I took your advice,’ he answered quietly. ‘And I hope I don’t live to regret it. I just sent him off with a sum of money, so it will be interesting to see whether he comes back or tries to escape with it.’
‘He will come back,’ she said with conviction. Then, standing on tiptoe, she kissed him on the lips, and for a while the governor forgot everything but the beautiful woman in his arms.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Your father and I have decided to extend our stay for another week,’ Muriel informed her daughter over breakfast one morning. ‘And during that time, I’m going to give you a few lessons in parenting.’
Alicia flushed but she did not argue.
‘And while I’m at it, I’ll give you a few on how to keep your staff in order as well. Or that nanny at least.’
Alicia sighed as she dabbed at her lips with her napkin. ‘I know I should be more assertive, Mama, but I’m afraid Nanny is a very forceful woman.’
‘All the more reason to put her in her place and let her know who is mistress here, then,’ her mother replied. ‘And there is no time like the present. We shall go up together and get Suzanne dressed in clothes of your choice and then take her for a stroll in the park. It looks set to be a beautiful day and the child will benefit from the fresh air.
‘I think your mother is right, darling,’ Matthew piped up, as he saw the look of fear flit across his wife’s face. As he had discovered since their marriage, Alicia was beautiful and she had a good heart, but she was completely out of her depth when it came to running the house or making decisions. ‘I can’t say that I’m too keen on Agatha either,’ he admitted. ‘And if you are afraid of her, imagine how Suzanne must feel. She’s more like a sergeant major than a nanny.’
‘As usual, Alicia, your mother is quite right,’ Alicia’s father said drily.
Muriel smiled at her husband as she and Alicia rose from their seats and left the room, leaving the men to enjoy their coffee in peace.
‘Just leave this to me,’ Muriel told her daughter as they mounted the stairs, and Alicia nodded docilely.
Muriel swung the nursery door open just in time to see Nanny tugging an underskirt none too gently over Suzanne’s head while the child stood like a statue.
‘Ah, Nanny.’ Muriel smiled at Suzanne. ‘I’m glad to see we are not too late. My daughter decided she wanted to choose what her little girl would wear today.’
‘B-but I’ve already laid her clothes out ready,’ Agatha stuttered indignantly.
Completely ignoring her, Muriel marched across to the small armoire and swung the doors open. ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked her daughter. ‘This blue dress is very pretty. Or perhaps this pink one?’
With her cheeks flaming, Alicia joined her, studiously avoiding looking at Agatha, who was staring at them with eyes that were as cold as ice.
‘I, er, well, er . . . what about this one?’ Alicia lifted down a pretty cotton dress covered in little sprigs of forget-me-nots. ‘Do you think this one would be suitable, Mama?’ she asked timidly.
‘It doesn’t matter what I think, or anyone else for that matter,’ her mother replied, with a pointed look at Agatha. ‘Suzanne is your child and so she should do and wear what you wish her to. Isn’t that right, Nanny?’
Agatha’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out, and as Suzanne peeped at her out of the corner of her eye, she was reminded of one of the goldfish she had seen when her parents had taken her and the rest of her siblings to a fair once.
‘Very well . . . she will wear this one today.’ Alicia handed the dress uncertainly to the nanny who slipped it over Suzanne’s head without a word. She would be glad when her mistress’s mother cleared off back home. The young mistress was as soft as butter and very easy to manipulate, but her mother was another matter entirely, the interfering old busybody.
‘Oh, darling, you look so sweet,’ Alicia cooed when Susie was dressed and the nanny had brushed her hair, far more gently than she usually did. ‘Grandmama thought you might perhaps like to come for a little walk with us now? We could go to the park. And perhaps we could scrounge some stale bread from Cook and feed the ducks while we are there, and then we could get an ice cream. Would you like that?’
Suzanne nodded eagerly. Anything was better than being left to the tender mercies of the spiteful nanny.
‘Yes, please.’
Muriel nodded her approval. ‘Good. Then we shall leave you to get your shoes on while we get ready ourselves,’ Muriel told her. Then, turning to Agatha, she ordered, ‘See to it that she is waiting in the hallway in ten minutes.’
‘But she usually learns her letters in the morning,’ Agatha objected, finally finding her voice again.
‘There is absolutely no need for her to be doing that just yet – at least, not with you,’ Muriel told her. ‘I have already suggested to my daughter that it is time to bring in a tutor to teach Suzanne. You are merely the nanny, responsible for seeing to her creature comforts. Kindly remember that in future.’ She sailed from the room with her daughter, leaving Agatha looking so red in the face that it appeared she might burst a blood vessel.
‘The jumped-up sanctimonious old cow!’ The words were out before Agatha could stop them and, rounding on Suzanne, she snapped, ‘You didn’t hear that; do you hear me?’ She gave the child a vicious pinch on the arm.
Susie nodded as she blinked back tears. ‘Y-yes, Nanny.’
‘Good, now get yourself off down them stairs an’ it’ll be woe betide you if you say so much as one word out of place while you’re gone, just remember that!’
She pushed the child none too gently ahead of her, and soon they were down in the hallway, where Agatha inclined her head before making her way back upstairs. Once there, she reached under the cushion of the rocking chair and removed a bottle of gin from which she took a large gulp. There were bottles of the stuff hidden all about the room, but she was careful never to drink it while Susie was about.
She sat for a time seething with rage. But eventually, as the gin worked its magic, she began to calm down. This was turning out to be the best position she had ever had, and it would be a shame if anything were to spoil it. The old bag couldn’t stay forever; she had her own home to go to, and then hopefully everything would return to normal. Feeling slightly happier, Agatha took another long swig from the bottle, before settling down in the chair for her morning doze.
As they headed for the park, Muriel watched Susie carefully. The child walked sedately beside them to start with, but the further away they got from the house, the more she seemed to relax. It troubled Muriel. The child was clearly afraid of her nanny, but as yet the woman had given Alicia no reason to dismiss her.
‘Can we feed the swans, please?’ Susie asked eagerly, as they turned into the park gates. She was clutching the bag of stale bread that Cook had given her, and Alicia smiled fondly as she nodded and released her hand.
‘Of course, darling. You may run ahead, but don’t go too close to the edge of the water, mind.’
She smiled as the little girl raced off, her skirts flying around her. ‘She’s a lovely child, isn’t she?’ she asked her mother.
‘Yes, she is . . . but rather withdrawn for a child of her age while we are in the house, don’t you think?’
Alicia
glanced at her mother and frowned. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
Muriel shrugged, choosing her words carefully. ‘I just wonder if she isn’t a little afraid of her nanny. She came with a good reference you, say?’
‘Oh yes, it was glowing. She worked for a Lord Albans somewhere in Sussex.’
‘Hm.’ Muriel said no more as they hurried to join Susie, but she promised herself that just as soon as she arrived back home, she would begin to make a few discreet enquiries.
They spent a delightful hour wandering around the park and at one stage Alicia bought Susie an iced bun that made the little girl’s eyes light up. There were numerous nannies in the park, some wheeling perambulators with gurgling babies in them, while others played hide-and-seek amongst the trees with their young charges. Somehow, Muriel couldn’t picture Agatha doing anything like that with Susie – the woman appeared to be happiest upstairs incarcerated in the nursery.
‘So, have you thought any more about employing a tutor for Suzanne?’ Muriel enquired. They were returning home and Muriel had noticed that Susie had gone quiet again.
‘Oh yes. Matthew and I were talking about it only last night,’ Alicia told her. ‘Matthew is going to place an advert in the paper and we’ll see who applies.’
‘Good.’ Muriel would feel a good deal happier when she knew that Susie wasn’t being left to the nanny’s tender mercies all day long.
‘Had a good time, did you?’ Agatha asked nastily when Susie tentatively walked back into the nursery. Her lips were curled back from her teeth, but her expression changed when Alicia and Muriel walked in right behind her. She hadn’t been expecting that.
‘She had a very good time,’ Muriel informed her acidly. ‘And in future, if the weather is fair, I want you to ensure that she visits the park each day. Exercise and fresh air are so good for children, don’t you find? And now she is going to wash her hands and face, and join us downstairs for an hour before lunch. See that she is tidy.’
The Winter Promise Page 14