Eugenia and Harry didn’t return to Hampshire until they had gone to every ball they had been invited to, including Gwyneth’s, and came home at the end of July, when the Season ended. And three days after they got back, they went to Bath for the month on holiday without the children and to enjoy the restorative waters, which Eugenia said she needed after all she’d been through.
When they returned at the end of August, they were busy every night right until the end of the first week of September, the night before Simon was leaving for Eton. He had cried about it for several days with Angélique, but he knew that he could not complain to his parents. Angélique had told him he had to be brave, and he promised he would be. She never let him know how sad she was for him to be leaving home so young, and she knew she would miss him.
The morning he left was a beautiful day, and Angélique got him up early. She had been packing for him for days, and included his favorite books, a blanket he loved, his pillow, and a beloved bear that he had slept with since he was born. He was far too young to give that up, especially if he was going to leave his parents. He had to have some small form of comfort. She just hoped the other boys didn’t make fun of him or take it from him. But there had to be other boys with whom he would form lifelong friendships. And all the boys in the entering class were the same age he was, at five. Angélique thought to herself that it was really a class of babies. She hated the idea of sending him away at five, and thought his parents were doing it just because everyone else did and the school was legendary, famous, and their son going there was a sign of their social status.
Angélique had taken Simon to say goodbye to his parents the afternoon before he left. His father had shaken his hand and his mother had hugged him, and they had warned him to be good and study hard. He looked like a baby to Angélique as he stood before them. And then she took him back upstairs to the nursery, and had given him extra hugs that night herself.
The next morning when it was time to leave, she took him downstairs. His bags had been collected by the footmen the night before and had already been put in the carriage. His father was sending him with their best carriage and coachman for the trip to Windsor, which would take them five hours. And the cook had prepared a picnic basket to take with him for the journey. He had everything he needed, and before they handed him into the carriage, Angélique hugged him tight. Neither of his parents came to see him off. And as the coach pulled away, Angélique stood waving at him for as long as she could see him, and Simon sat silently in the coach with tears rolling relentlessly down his cheeks as though his heart would break.
—
Once Simon left, she went back to the nursery where Helen was tending to the others. They had two baskets for the twins, whom Angélique had been taking care of since August. It gave her little time for anything else, but she was managing nicely, and Helen was being extremely helpful. They ran their feet off all day, and except when they were sleeping, one of them was always holding one of the twins. The babies had adjusted well to nursery life, and Emma was thrilled to have them close at hand. She was four years old now, and loved her baby sister. She was never jealous of her and wanted to play with her like a doll. And Angélique constantly reminded her to be gentle with her. The two younger boys were still too young and too rough to hold a baby, but Angélique let Emma sit on the floor and hold one of them, wrapped in a blanket. That way, the baby was protected and wouldn’t have far to fall, if Emma lost her grip when the baby squirmed, or got too heavy for her.
The nursery felt strange to her without Simon. He had been such a strong presence ever since her arrival, and had all the earmarks of an oldest son. He took care of his sister, was protective of the others, and in some ways was like a little man. He talked to Angélique as though they understood each other. And she found it very odd without him now, and very sad. She hoped he’d be happy at school, but she didn’t see how he could be, being sent away so young. Angélique felt Simon’s absence sharply for two months, and in November it was shocking to her to realize that she had been with the Fergusons for a year. In some ways, it seemed like only minutes, at other times it felt like a lifetime, and she had begun to wonder what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She was happy in the job and doing well, and even liked being a nanny. She had grown very attached to the children, and most recently the twins. She had no desire to live or work anywhere else, except Belgrave, but she knew that would never be possible. She wondered at times if she should be doing something more important with her life, or when she should use her father’s money to buy a house. But it still felt much too soon for that, and she was safer under the Fergusons’ protection. And it seemed like the right job. Who would hire her with no experience, except now as a nanny?
She liked working for the Fergusons, and they gave her a fair amount of leeway with the children. Eugenia didn’t come upstairs to observe them or have tea with them. Whenever she wanted to see them, she had them brought downstairs to her but rarely for more than a few minutes and never more than once a week. Her absence left Angélique totally in charge and free to make decisions. If she was going to be a nanny, this was the best job she could think of, but she knew she didn’t want to be a nanny all her life. It was a strange existence bringing up other people’s children, and living in someone else’s house, and she knew that as long as she did, she would never have a life of her own.
Most of the people she worked with had been brought up to a life of service. She never had been. She thought about it from time to time, and wondered what it would be like to run her own home the way she wanted, and make decisions about her life. The Fergusons offered her protection, but she gave up a great deal to be there as well. The years would so easily slip by, and one day she would be old, like many of the other servants. When her brother had banished her, he had not only stolen her home from her, but he had condemned her to a life that she hadn’t been prepared for, and had never dreamed of, and she couldn’t help wondering at times if this was now her destiny and she had no other choice.
She spent her second Christmas with the Fergusons, and it was all familiar to her now. And with Helen’s help, she was managing five children, and she knew she loved them, more than their parents did at times. And she also knew them better. But they would always be someone else’s children, and it would always be someone else’s home. She wondered if the other servants ever thought about it, and questioned what they were doing, but she didn’t dare to ask. She and Sarah talked about it at times, since she knew Sarah wanted to marry one day and have children, and was still secretly walking out with one of the grooms.
At nineteen, Angélique had no idea if this was meant to be her life forever, or if somewhere, someday, she would follow another path. She had no time to think about it, except sometimes at night when she lay in bed, and then one of the children would call out to her, or have a nightmare, and she would get up to comfort them, and when she did, or held the twins in her arms, she realized that this was the life she was meant to live for now. What she didn’t know was if it was forever, or only for a time. And for now, maybe she didn’t need to know.
Simon came home from boarding school for Christmas, and Angélique saw instantly that he had grown taller, and was very thin. She was worried they weren’t feeding him enough, and his eyes were sad. He looked like an abandoned child. She poured all her love and energy into him while he was home. And one of the maids had taught her to knit a sweater for him, which she gave him for Christmas. She asked him where his bear was, and he told her that when he got to Eton, they had made him leave it in his trunk, and told him he was too old to have it, and a big boy now.
He looked thrilled to be home, and clung to her the entire time he was there. And he sobbed miserably in her arms the night before he had to go back. He begged her to let him stay home with her.
“I can’t do that, Simon,” she said, with a lump in her throat. “Your parents want you to be there. They won’t listen to me.”
“Tell them I’ll
be good for the rest of my life.”
“They want you to get a fine education, and meet new friends.”
“I don’t want new friends. I have you. Will you stay here forever?” He was asking her the same questions she had asked herself, and she didn’t have the answers for him either. And she couldn’t lie to him—it wouldn’t be fair.
“I don’t know. That depends if your parents want me. And one day you’ll all grow up.” Sooner than he thought. His brothers would all go to school at the same age he had, and they might send the girls away to school as well, though not at five.
“Why can’t we just stay here?” he asked her unhappily.
“Because boys like you go to schools like Eton, and it’s a good thing to do.” But she wasn’t sure she was telling him the truth. She would have loved to keep him at home, and school him herself, or have tutors like she had. But his parents led a different life, and she was a girl. Her own brothers had gone to boarding school too, though not as young. Edward had hated it and done poorly. Tristan had loved going away to school.
Simon looked miserable when she put him in the carriage the next day, and his parents had said goodbye to him the night before. She watched his small unhappy face in the window as the carriage pulled away, and felt as though she had failed him again.
She went back to the nursery with a heavy heart, and made breakfast for the children when they got up. She noticed that Emma seemed feverish and had a cough, and decided to keep her in that day. She had wanted to go skating on the pond, but she couldn’t go if she was sick. Angélique promised to take them another day. Helen said she’d watch Emma, when she took the boys out for some air. And before she left, Angélique tucked her back into bed. She seemed happy to be there with her favorite doll next to her, and before Angélique left the nursery with Rupert and Charles, Emma was sound asleep.
“Send someone for me if she gets worse,” Angélique told Helen as she left. Helen was holding both twins—it was too cold for them to go out too, but the two older boys needed a run. And as Angélique hurried down the back stairs after them, she hoped that Emma would be better when she woke up. Her mind was focused on Emma, as she tried not to think of Simon on his lonely ride back to school. It was more than Eugenia was thinking of. She was planning her menus, for friends arriving from London that night. Eugenia wasn’t thinking of her son at all.
Chapter 8
When Angélique came back from the park with the boys, her face was tingling, and her hands were ice cold, but they’d had fun. The two little boys were tireless, but fortunately she had as much energy as they did. They had come in through the kitchen, and the cook had whispered to her, “I don’t know how you do it, with six of them now.” She had offered the two little boys a plate of biscuits as Angélique smiled.
“Helen helps,” Angélique answered, as she took one of the delicious gingerbread biscuits, which had just come out of the oven. Mrs. Williams at Belgrave had made them for her too as a child, and it brought back memories of her childhood home as she ate it.
They went back upstairs then, and Angélique looked in on Emma, whom Helen said hadn’t woken up since she left. But she felt even warmer to the touch than she had earlier, and Angélique was worried. She watched her for a few minutes, and went back to check on the boys playing in the nursery parlor, and picked up Rose to change her. She could feel that she was wet, and Helen was holding George, asleep in her arms after she’d given him his bottle. She said that Rose would be due for one soon. She was a happy, easy baby, and easier than her twin, who had recently become prone to colic, and woke more frequently at night. Angélique had been getting up with him three times a night, whereas his sister slept straight through without a peep, and a broad smile and giggle when she woke up. Angélique loved playing with her, but she was worried about Emma when she went to get the baby’s bottle.
After she fed the baby, Angélique went to check on the little girl again. Emma had begun to stir in her bed, and started to cry the minute she opened her eyes and saw her nanny looking down at her.
“I hurt,” she said in a hoarse whisper, and then gave a terrifying barking cough that nearly choked her. Angélique had her sit up and gave her a sip of water, and gently touched her forehead. She was blazing. She was crying, and the more she cried the more she coughed. It was a full five minutes before she could catch her breath and lie back down. Angélique told her she’d be back in a minute, went to the parlor, and told Helen to listen for her.
“Where are you going?”
“I want to send for the doctor,” she whispered. She didn’t like the sound of her cough, the look in her eyes, or the fever. She was no nurse, but it was easy to tell that the child was very sick, and it had come on very quickly since the night before, when she’d seemed fine when she went to bed.
Angélique hurried down the stairs to the second floor, and saw Stella leaving Eugenia’s bedroom.
“I wouldn’t go in now,” Stella told her quickly, as she saw Angélique ready to move past her. “She’s not in the best of spirits.” She lowered her voice further. “She doesn’t like the way I did her hair.” She rolled her eyes as she said it.
“I have to,” Angélique said with a worried look. “We need the doctor.”
Stella nodded. “Do it at your own risk. She threw her slipper at me as I left.” Eugenia was given to tantrums, although more frequently at her maid, when she didn’t like the way a dress fit, thought her mending was clumsy, had pressed something wrong, or hadn’t laced her corset tight enough. She was as beautiful as ever but she had thickened slightly in the waist since the twins and didn’t want anyone to know. Stella had tried to tell her as diplomatically as possible that she could pull the corset strings only so far before they broke.
Angélique slipped quietly toward her employer’s dressing room and knocked before she went in.
“Yes? Have you come back to do it right?” she said in a querulous voice, thinking it was her maid, and talking about her hair.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ferguson,” Angélique said as she stepped through the door and saw her with an elaborate hairdo that looked fine to her. Eugenia looked surprised to see who it was.
“What are you doing down here?” She didn’t look pleased to see her, and Angélique didn’t care.
“It’s Emma. She’s not well. She has a fever and a nasty cough.”
“Well, give her some tea with honey, and some of that syrup the doctor left for us when Rupert was sick. It’s probably the same thing.”
“He didn’t have a fever, ma’am,” she said politely. “I think she should see the doctor.”
“Don’t be silly. For a cold? They’re always sick anyway. Just don’t let her near the twins—they’re too young to get sick.” In fact, they were eight months old, and Angélique didn’t want them to get sick either. But she wanted to convey to their mother, without alarming her unduly, that Emma seemed very ill to her.
“I think it’s more than a cold, ma’am,” Angélique said firmly.
“You’re not a doctor. Where’s Stella? I told her to come back and do my hair again. Where is she?”
“I’m sure she’ll be back in a minute,” Angélique said quietly. “I’d really like to send for Dr. Smith.”
“We shouldn’t trouble him with the children, unless we need to, or we’d be calling for him every time they sneeze.”
“She has a high fever, ma’am, and she’s barking like a seal.”
“What an unattractive thing to say.” She turned to glare at Angélique. “We’ll see how she is in a few days. If she’s worse tomorrow, tell me. The poor man can’t run all over the county for every child with a cold. I’m sure she’ll be fine tomorrow. You know how children are.” And after fourteen months caring for them night and day, she did. Emma was never sick. She appeared delicate but was hardier than the boys, which made her feeling so ill seem even worse. This was a rarity for her, and by now Angélique had a good instinct for their ills. “Now go back upstairs and take ca
re of her. How are the twins?” She hadn’t seen them in weeks.
“They’re very well, ma’am,” Angélique said, distraught. Emma’s mother clearly didn’t understand how sick she was, and would never have considered coming to see for herself. She hated it when they were ill, and didn’t want to catch whatever it was herself. “I’d really like to send for Dr. Smith,” she tried one more time, and Eugenia looked like she might throw a shoe at her too.
“I told you not to bother him. Let’s not discuss it again. Go and find Stella for me, and tell her to come back and do my hair. And don’t annoy Dr. Smith for a child with a cold.”
“Very well, ma’am,” Angélique said through clenched teeth as Stella walked in on her own, still seeming tense. She knew what was in store for her—several more attempts to do her mistress’s hair to her satisfaction, however many times it took.
“There you are,” Eugenia said to Stella with an exasperated expression, dismissing the nanny, who withdrew quietly with a knot of panic in her stomach, as the lady’s maid went to do her hair again. The two servants exchanged a pointed glance as Angélique left. She felt sorry for Stella, but she was much more worried about Emma, who had been denied the doctor’s help. She wondered if the child’s father would have been as cavalier, although she suspected he would be. And since he was in London, he had no idea Emma was ill. And when Angélique went back upstairs, the child was worse. The fever was higher, and she was whimpering in her bed.
Angélique sat down next to her, and told Helen to watch the others. Helen didn’t like taking care of all four of them, but Angélique didn’t want to leave Emma until she went back to sleep. She bathed her forehead in cool cloths and sang to her, after giving her a spoonful of the syrup her mother had suggested. It didn’t help, but half an hour later, she went back to sleep. And Angélique emerged from her room and turned her attention to the boys. The twins were down for a nap before dinner. It was going to be a long day, juggling them all, with Emma sick.
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