by Farr, Diane
“That’s why they’ll blame you,” said Hector rudely. “It will appear that everything was fine at Crosby Hall until you arrived on the scene. Which it jolly well was.”
Natalie almost laughed aloud. “I assure you, brother, Mabel is no more odious to me than you are. And I’ll be happy to tell people that, if you like.”
“Thank you,” said Hector sarcastically. “But it won’t be necessary. You aren’t leaving this house to take a governess position, and that’s my final word on the subject.”
It was not a tone of voice that Natalie cared to hear, especially from Hector. Anger seized her. Her hand left the doorknob. “Are you threatening me?” she scoffed. “With what?” She stepped back into the room to face him down. “My dear Hector, I am not your chattel. You have no power over me. I am of age, and may do as I please. It’s not your concern.”
Hector’s face was turning an interesting shade of purplish red. “No you can’t, and yes it is,” he spluttered. “I am the head of the family.”
“You are not the Grand Turk! What will you do, baby brother? Cut off my pin money? Remove me from your will? I’m very sure my name does not appear there at any rate! Or will you take away the pittance Papa left me?”
“Do you think I can’t do that? You’re wrong. I can.”
“You are welcome to try,” she replied cordially. “Because I don’t care if you do. I shall earn enough in a twelvemonth to replace every penny of my meager inheritance. It will be worth it to me, well worth it, to be out from under your mean little thumb. There’s nothing you can do or say to stop me.”
Victory surged through her in a heady rush. Is this what men felt in battle? No wonder they were forever starting wars. There was nothing like it —provided you were winning. Mabel’s eyes were round with angry astonishment, and Hector’s glittered like obsidian, hard and black. Frankly, after all they had put her through, it was a pleasure to see.
Natalie was almost to the door again when Hector’s flat voice sounded once more.
“There’s Derek.”
A frisson of apprehension halted her in her tracks, although she swiftly quelled it. Derek would understand. He always understood. And he always stood by her, through thick and thin. She faced Hector again and lifted her chin scornfully. “Derek will not interfere, if that’s what you think. He certainly won’t side with you against me. And by the time you get word to him, I will be entrenched in my new life.”
She did not like the calculated look that had crept into Hector’s face. She had liked his flustered rage better. He still looked angry, but now he had a cat-at-the-creampot look about him. A cunning little smile curled his mouth. “I am referring, sister dear, to the fact that your purse strings are not the only purse strings I control. You may choose to spurn what I give you, but Derek cannot afford to.”
She cocked her head, puzzled. This didn’t smell right.
“What do you mean? What do Derek’s purse strings have to do with it?”
“If you do not follow my orders, Natalie, I will cut off Derek’s allowance as well as yours.”
She stared at him. His audacity fairly took her breath away. Had he punched her in the stomach, she could scarcely have felt more stunned. But he couldn’t mean it. He must be bluffing. It made no sense.
She forced herself to take a breath, and spoke. “I do not understand. Are you joking? Derek has done nothing to you. He doesn’t even know what my plans are. Why would you do such a thing?”
Hector’s smile grew even oilier. “Because it is the best way to control you.”
The full import of Hector’s villainy struck her, sickening her. “You worm.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He folded his arms across his chest again, grinning. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s monstrous! It’s unfair. You will not stoop so low.”
His grin vanished and his eyes narrowed. “Try me,” he snarled. “If you leave this house, Natalie, I will stop Derek’s allowance. And not just until you return. I will stop it for good.”
So much for her short-lived victory.
Natalie curled her hands into fists, trying to stop their trembling. She did not doubt for a moment that Hector would do it. This was just the sort of underhanded scheme he prided himself on. He had always been a devious child, forever pitting members of the household against each other to his own advantage. “Derek will take you to the courts if you do,” she said defiantly. Even in her own ears, the threat sounded hollow. “And he will win.”
“He might win in Chancery Court—eventually. How many years will it take, d’you think?” Hector pretended to ponder the question, rubbing his chin.
“You are hateful,” she exclaimed. “Despicable. You know his income from Lord Stokesdown is small. What sort of man would beggar his brother to punish his sister? Don’t you care what people would say of you?”
Hector placed his fists on the low back of a chair and leaned forward, almost hissing with fury. “No more than you do, apparently. For I might ask the same of you! Don’t you know what people will say of you, if you leave my roof unmarried? Don’t you care?”
Mabel chimed in from the sofa. “Natalie, it just isn’t done. Spinsters don’t leave the family home. Not respectable spinsters, at any rate.”
“Nonsense,” said Natalie crisply. “There’s nothing disreputable about becoming a governess. The way you two are carrying on, anyone would think I was eloping, or running off to join the circus.”
“You might as well be.” Mabel looked smug. “You may not be of noble birth, but you are hardly a member of the servant class. A gentlewoman can’t reside with a single man unless he is in his dotage, and even then, people will gossip about her. Besides, even if it were respectable—which it isn’t!—it’s extremely odd. Nobody chooses to be a governess. Hector’s right; people will talk.”
“Except that they won’t talk, because Natalie isn’t going anywhere. Don’t push me, Natalie. I’ll cut Derek off with a shilling.”
The feeling of power was draining completely out of her. Natalie stared helplessly at Hector, trying to think. How could she reason with him? She couldn’t. And she would not beg. Either tactic would be useless. She knew Hector well enough to be certain of that.
Her eyes narrowed as an idea occurred to her: a breathtaking, masterful idea. “What is Derek’s allowance?” she asked slowly. “How much do you give him?”
Hector seemed about to answer her, but stopped himself. “Why?” he asked, his voice cold with suspicion.
“Just tell me. You know I can look it up in Papa’s will.”
“You don’t have a copy of Papa’s will. And besides, it wasn’t a specific amount. He left it all to my discretion—which is why Derek would have to drag the matter through Chancery Court if I changed my mind and gave him nothing.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“No, dear sister, I am not.” Hector’s cat-at-the-creampot look returned. “Why don’t you write Derek and ask him?”
“Very well, I will,” said Natalie defiantly.
Hector’s mouth stretched in an ugly grin. “Do you think you can make it up to him out of your wages?”
“Sneer away, Hector. I know you think I won’t be able to, but you’re wrong.” Lord Malcolm’s words rang in her memory: I am prepared to pay you handsomely. She was confident that whatever Hector gave Derek every quarter-day, it couldn’t be much. Hector would begrudge every penny. And Natalie was used to doing without. What would she do with her “handsome” salary? Why, she’d give it to Derek, to add to what Lord Stokesdown paid him. Soon they would both be free of Hector.
So why was Hector still smiling that nasty smile?
A stifled giggle from Mabel caught her attention. “What is so amusing?” demanded Natalie.
“You are,” said Mabel snidely. “Fancying you can pay Derek’s stipend.”
“Why? Is it such a princely sum? I can’t imagine Hector parting with anything more than a tok
en amount—especially since Derek has joined Lord Stokesdown’s household.”
“It’s not the amount, silly.”
“Hush, Mabel,” ordered Hector. “Let her find out for herself.” He grinned again. “I daresay it will occur to her when she sits down to frame her letter.”
Natalie looked from one to the other. They seemed to be sharing a nasty, funny little secret. She was too angry to care. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, disgusted. “But I can hardly wait to be rid of you both. I’m going upstairs to pack.”
She slammed out of the room. The instant the door closed behind her, it hit her: she knew why Hector and Mabel had been sniggering. She couldn’t pay Derek’s stipend. Not because she wouldn’t have the means, but because Derek wouldn’t let her. Derek would starve rather than take her wages from her.
Just as Hector had suggested, she tried to mentally frame the letter she would write Derek, and failed. If Derek suspected her purpose, there were no words she could employ that would convince him to tell her what Hector gave him every quarter day. Accepting a son’s portion from his father’s estate was one thing. Accepting largesse from a sister was quite another. And if that sister were working as a governess to earn the money she gave him—? Oh, no, impossible.
But she would find a way. She must find a way. She couldn’t let Hector win.
Fighting back angry tears, Natalie started for the stairs. A tall, rawboned figure faced her on the landing, looking at Natalie over the tops of her spectacles. Natalie sighed. There was no point in explaining to Nurse what was wrong; she would already know everything. Nurse always knew everything. When they were children, Natalie and the boys used to think her omniscient. Now they realized she simply listened at doors—though none of them would ever dare accuse her of such a thing.
“Well?” said Natalie challengingly. She straightened her spine and dashed the tears defiantly from her cheeks.
“Hmpf.” Nurse managed to look severe and kind at the same time. “Look at you, thrown into high fidgets by that boy’s antics. Ought to know better by now, Natalie. Shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seein’ you upset.”
“I shan’t for much longer.” She pushed past Nurse and started up the stairs. “I’ve accepted a position at Larkspur.”
She heard Nurse’s tread, surprisingly heavy for such a thin woman, following up the stairs behind her. “I know you have,” said Nurse.
Natalie knew that tone. She rounded on her at the next landing, taking advantage of the extra height her stairtop position afforded. “I hope you don’t mean to take Hector’s side in this,” she said accusingly.
Nurse looked up at her former charge, no more intimidated by Natalie’s challenge than she was by her advancing years. The look on Nurse’s face was exactly the same as if Natalie were four years old and had been caught sneaking jam from the jam pot.
“I mean to look out for you,” she said sternly. “Just as I always have. While there’s breath in my body, Natalie Whittaker, I can’t stand by and let you run headlong into danger. Don’t ask it of me.”
“Danger! That’s absurd.” Frowning, Natalie swept into her bedchamber and opened her clothes press. She would not be deterred. Not even by Nurse, on whose judgment she usually relied.
“There are all kinds and conditions of danger, and well you know it.” Nurse stood in the doorway, arms akimbo. “At the very least, you’re putting your reputation in danger. Living in sin! Or as close to it as makes no odds. What would your dear mother say?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. And neither, by the way, do you.” Natalie pulled several frocks out of the clothespress and tossed them onto her bed. “Do I own a valise? I can’t bear to ask Mabel for the loan of her trunks.”
“Natalie, child.” Nurse’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been so brave, dearie. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. The way those two treat you would try the patience of a saint. I don’t blame you for wanting to run away. But you mustn’t do something you know you will regret.”
Natalie stopped packing. She collapsed onto the low stool at her dressing table, burying her face in her hands. “It’s been ghastly,” she said tiredly. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“I’ve eyes in my head.” Some of the tartness returned to Nurse’s voice. “And ears as well. Come! Sit up and tell me. What really happened this morning?”
Natalie told her. By the time she had finished her tale, Nurse was sitting on the window seat, looking inscrutable. It was the expression she donned when thinking hard.
“Well?” said Natalie nervously. Nurse’s opinion truly did matter to her. “I can’t disappoint little Sarah. And Lord Malcolm has dismissed Mrs. Thorpe. It would be unconscionable for me to abandon them now.”
Nurse still said nothing.
“I’ve given my word,” added Natalie, with a touch of desperation.
Nurse shot a look at her that caused her to hold her tongue. “You want me to tell you you’ve done the right thing. Well, I can’t say you have, and I can’t say you haven’t. Time will tell.”
Relief flooded Natalie’s heart. “Then at least you agree that I must go.”
“Hmpf. I agree that you can’t abandon them, after giving your word.” Nurse gave a single, brisk nod of decision. “I’ll go.”
“What?” Natalie’s eyes widened in surprise.
Nurse rose and shook out her skirts. “I’ll go to Larkspur and take care of wee Sarah.”
Natalie gave an incoherent cry of gladness. “Oh, that’s famous! Dear Nurse!” She leaped up and impulsively embraced her old friend. “No one will gossip about me if you are there. And I did hate to leave you behind at Crosby Hall. It can’t be pleasant for you here, even with the baby coming.”
Nurse’s bony shoulders were unresponsive. “You are staying here, Natalie. And I won’t hear any argument about it, so you may save your breath. You are staying at Crosby Hall, and I will go to Larkspur.”
Natalie froze in horror. “No! You can’t. You can’t leave me here! Nurse—dear Nurse—you’re my only friend. You’re my only acquaintance! Mabel’s dismissed all the familiar faces. Crosby Hall would be hell on earth without you.”
“You should’a thought o’that before runnin’ amok, makin’ promises you can’t keep,” scolded Nurse. Her speech always lost a little polish when she was agitated. “Tsk! You know you can’t leave your home to move next door with a bachelor. I never heard the like! And costin’ Derek’s allowance, too. You can’t do it, child.”
It was not to be expected that Natalie could acquiesce without a struggle. She argued and pleaded and ranted ... in vain, however, since even Natalie had to acknowledge the good sense of Nurse’s plan. Natalie herself had balked at the idea of taking up residence in a bachelor household, as Nurse patiently reminded her. Well, she had been right to feel that there was something scandalous about it. There was something scandalous about it.
In the end, Natalie buried her head in Nurse’s skirts and wept like a thwarted child, then sat up resolutely and scrubbed her face with her handkerchief. “You’re right,” she said glumly. “As usual.”
Nurse patted her kindly on the shoulder. “Ah, well. I knew you’d see the sense of it. No, don’t apologize for cryin’—you’re only human, dearie, and you’ve had much to bear these latter days.”
Natalie gave a disconsolate sniff. “The irony is, in trying to escape I’ve pulled the chains tighter. I’m in a worse fix now than I was before. I not only have to face life with Hector and Mabel, I have to face it without you.”
“Pooh! I’ll be just the other side of the brook. You can wave to me from your window.”
Natalie chuckled, then sighed. “Small comfort. And, oh, dear—what will Lord Malcolm say?”
“Daresay we’ll find out soon enough.” Nurse gave her a final pat, then rose. “Well! I’m off to do my packin’.” She looked down at Natalie, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles. “Shall I ask Cook to send up a couple of
trays for us?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Natalie fervently. “I’m famished. And I couldn’t bear to dine with Hector and Mabel. Not tonight.”
After Nurse had gone, Natalie wearily rose and returned her garments to the clothespress. It did seem hard, to lose her only remaining ally through sheer stupidity. On the other hand, she supposed she must be glad that Nurse was willing to bail her out, leaving to take up residence at Larkspur and care for a child she had never even met. Her no-nonsense willingness to save Natalie’s face spoke volumes for her loyalty.
But what would Lord Malcolm say?
Chapter 6
Sarah clung tightly to his hand as they stepped into the foyer. Light streamed through the tall windows on either side of the door behind them, firing the single chandelier with dancing radiance overhead. The oncoming sunset flushed the cream-colored walls with a mellow, pinkish glow. They seemed to be stepping into a cloud of roseate, reflected light shot with sparkles. It made a lovely welcome, in Malcolm’s opinion. He looked about him with pleasure.
He had seen Larkspur only once before, when he had been not much older than Sarah was now. His memory of the place was sketchy. As a boy, the entrance had not impressed him. As a man, it did. He liked the clean lines, the pristine austerity, and the chapel-like effect of the streaming light. He hoped Sarah’s silence was not due to disappointment. She had lived all her short life at her grandfather’s ducal palace, and might have expected her new home to have a similar magnificence. Larkspur was elegant, but built on a much smaller scale.
He glanced down at his daughter. She was staring solemnly up at the ceiling. When he looked at her, she lifted the hand that was not clutching his and pointed at the chandelier. “Fairy lights,” she whispered.
His gaze followed her pointing finger. He had to admit that when you squinted, the sunlight caught in the dangling crystals seemed to take on a life of its own. With a little imagination, one could picture fairies hovering overhead. “Very pretty,” he agreed.
A discreet cough drew his attention back to the long-suffering caretakers. The Howatches stood before him in an attitude compounded of nervous apology, exhaustion, and resentment. Mrs. Howatch, anxiously watching his expression, broke into speech. “I did hope to have things just so, milord, when you took possession. I’m that sorry for the state the house is in—under holland covers, mostly, and everything at sixes and sevens. But the bedchambers have been set to rights.”