Anne Brear

by Virtue of a Governess

  “Nicola? Nicola!”

  She searched the pedestrians for the person who called her name. Across the road Frances waved. Beside her, Nathaniel stood staring.

  Summoning a smile, Nicola waited for them to join her and Meg. “It’s good to see you, Frances, Mr West.” She’d not seen Frances since their argument and the hurt lingered faintly. She kept her gaze from Nathaniel, not needing to look at him to feel his daunting presence which filled her senses.

  “How are you?” Frances smiled. Today she wore a lemon dress and looked prettier for it.

  “I’m well.” Nicola turned to indicate Meg. “You remember my friend, Miss Robinson?”

  After the pleasantries, a suffocating awkwardness sprang up and Nicola glanced down at her shoes, trying to think of something interesting to say, but her mind was blank of everything except Nathaniel West, who stood opposite to her.

  “Did you receive the flowers, Miss Douglas?” Mr West asked.

  Appalled at her lack of manners, Nicola became flustered. “Yes, indeed. Thank you very much. They are lovely.”

  “Would you care to come to dinner, Nicola, and you too, Miss Robinson?” Frances asked, her hand reaching out to settle lightly on Nicola’s arm. It was a gesture of apology, of hope, and Nicola covered Frances’s hand with her own and smiled.

  “Tonight?” Frances grinned, her expression one of anticipation.

  “Thank you, Miss West, but we have an engagement for tonight.” Meg raised her chin, her eyes laughing at Nathaniel. “Nicola and I have been invited to dine on Mr Warner’s ship. He is newly arrived from America and has taken a special interest in our dear Nicola.”

  “Meg!” Nicola gasped, her cheeks burning. She looked at Nathaniel whose eyes seemed to have turned from violet to steel grey. A pinched whiteness surrounded his lips, which were tightly clamped together.

  “Well, that is wonderful for you both.” Frances’s voice shook a little. “An American would have so many new and interesting things to talk about. I hope you both have a lovely evening.”

  “Frances, you know the address of Mr Belfroy’s new establishment, the Governess Home?” Nicola swallowed nervously.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then perhaps you would care to come for tea tomorrow, around four?”

  “Thank you, I-”

  Nathaniel stepped forward. “Does the invitation include me, Miss Douglas?” His direct stare dared her to refuse him.

  “In-indeed, sir. You are most welcome. Though…though the house is not yet ready for us to entertain properly…”

  “We shall see you at four then. Good day, ladies.” He bowed and taking Frances’s arm, marched away.

  Nicola sagged and put a shaking hand up to her throat. Why did he have the power to reduce her to a witless and nervy fool?

  “Come, Nicola.” Meg dragged her down the street. “Time is getting away and we have much to do before tonight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The hired cab halted on the road alongside the moonlit quay and Nicola descended the step to the ground. It seemed that all of Sydney congregated at the quay tonight. Golden light spilt from the street gas lamps and some of the ships in the harbour had strung up colourful Chinese lanterns, giving the harbour an air of gaiety and excitement. So many people mingled, laughter and chatter filled the warm spring night air.

  “Oh, how did I forget?” Meg came to stand beside her and stared around, eyes wide with anticipation.

  “What did you forget?” Nicola couldn’t help but get energized by the cheerful atmosphere in the dock area.

  “The navy!” Meg clapped her gloved hands. “Two naval ships are in the harbour. See, over there.” She pointed to two large ships riding at anchor in the harbour. “I read about it in the newspaper yesterday. One British and one French. They have joined together to hold a special ball on board the British ship. Everyone who is anyone will be there.” She paused as a wealthy couple glided past, the woman’s jewels dazzling in the light. “I confess, Nicola, if your American and his captain are as dull as dead fish, I will slip away and join the fun over there.” She giggled, but there was a glint in her eyes that made the joke seem less light-hearted.

  “If you do that, Meg Robinson, our friendship will be over for good.”

  “Oh, come on then.” Meg sighed dramatically. “Let us go aboard and see what Mr Warner has to entertain us.”

  They strolled down the quay until they reached the plank walkway for the Lady Hilton.

  “Ho there, ladies.” Mr Warner, all smiles, hurried down to meet and escorted them up onto the deck. “Welcome aboard.” He held out both arms for them to take. “Shall we go inside? The captain and I have sent the crew ashore and we’ve made use of the saloon. I’m afraid as mere men it lacks the decorative touches of a female, but I hope you’ll be comfortable enough.”

  The saloon held a long red carpet under a solid looking timber table highly polished. Tall candelabras around the room created a welcoming glow and shone on the silverware. In the centre of the table was an elegant glass bowl on a stand filled with exotic fruits of pineapple, oranges and grapes, which hung over the edge, tempting the most selective of palates.

  The far door opened and a man entered. Nicola liked the look of him at once. He appeared to be young, but close up she depicted the lines on his handsome face and the seriousness of his grey eyes. She guessed him to be about thirty, a few years younger than Mr Warner.

  “Miss Douglas, Miss Robinson, please meet my partner and captain of this ship, James Pollings.”

  “Ladies, welcome.” Captain Pollings bowed over their hands and then indicated for them to sit at the table. “I hope dinner will be to your satisfaction. My cook is an old man, but good at his craft.”

  Nicola sat down and adjusted her skirts, glad she’d bought a new gown in pale green with cream lace on the bodice and sleeves. As she glanced up, she noticed Meg staring openly at the captain. She kicked her under the table, all the while smiling at the two gentlemen. Meg jerked, blinked and lowered her head. Nicola beamed a wider smile to cover her friend’s behaviour. “Is this your first time to Sydney, too, Captain, like Mr Warner?”

  “No, Miss Douglas. I had the pleasure of sailing into this fine harbour last year. It was that trip which prompted me to talk to Hilton about furthering our business interests.”

  Mr Warner poured wine for them all. “Our country is still suffering the effects of the civil war, you understand. It will take time for trade to recover as it once was.”

  “Did you fight?” Nicola asked, alarmed at the quietness of Meg, who now studied her empty plate as though it held the answers to the world’s mysteries.

  “Absolutely, as Yankees. We both fought.” Warner grew serious. “I can happily say that I’d be a contented man if I never saw another rifle or cannon again, but that is the way of many a man’s thinking after war.” He straightened and raised his glass. “To tonight.” He gazed fondly at Nicola as they all raised their glasses. “May this be the beginning of lifelong friendships.” They echoed his sentiments as the first course was brought out.

  As the cook and his young helper served the courses throughout the next few hours, Nicola found herself truly relaxed. The captain and Warner were wonderful hosts. At times they all spoke together, and at others they would break off into smaller conversations. She was amazed at Meg’s solemnity, she spoke little, but paid great attention to the captain’s every word. Had the handsome captain swept Meg off her feet? It hardly seemed possible.

  “Nicola is an uncommon name, Miss Douglas. One I have rarely heard,” Warner murmured, sipping brandy as the last of their plates were taken away by the cabin boy.

  She wiped her mouth with the napkin, replete from the fine meal of potato and leek soup, a beef stew, and lastly, cooked whole apples in a treacle sauce. “My father was called Nicholas. My mother named me after him.” She smiled, thinking of her father and how he would have enjoyed the conversation with these two intelligent men.

>   “Tell me about him.”

  Talking about her father was an easy assignment and they swallowed up another hour discussing not only her father, but teaching and world events.

  Warner topped up her glass with more wine as the clock on the wall chimed midnight. “I was named after my mother’s family. She was a Hilton before marriage.” He grinned, his hazel eyes lingering on her face.

  “The Lady Hilton is named for her?”

  “No, for my grandmother. She was a very special lady.”

  “Are all your family still in Boston?”

  “Yes. My parents and sister.” He ran his fingertip around the edge of the glass. “I would like to show you my home, Miss Douglas.”

  Her heart fluttered. “I am certain I would enjoy it, Mr Warner.” She looked away, concentrating on Meg’s rapt expression as she listened to the captain’s soft voice. Nicola wished she could hear what they talked about so she could join in and take Mr Warner’s attention away from her. She felt rather overwhelmed by it.

  “Would you come, if I asked?”

  She stared at him, wondering if she heard correctly. “I hardly think it is possible, Mr Warner.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a position here, responsibilities. I cannot simply relinquish them to sail to America. My income is only what I receive from Mr Belfroy. I do not have the means to be free to roam the world as I wish…” She blushed, knowing she had spoken too much, revealed too much.

  “Forgive me.” He bowed his head. “I let myself run away with half formed ideas and expect everyone else to be the same. Thankfully, not all are as impulsive as me, or the world would be in a terrible state, would it not?”

  She smiled, admiring him for the way he had apologised and averted her from further embarrassment. Standing, she caught Meg’s attention. “Thank you, Mr Warner, Captain Pollings, for your wonderful hospitality and your friendship. I know I can speak for Miss Robinson as well as myself in saying tonight has been very enjoyable for us both. However, it is very late and we must be going.”

  “Yes, I thank you too.” Meg stood and crossed the room to gather their shawls.

  Warner came to stand next to Nicola and helped her wrap the shawl around her shoulders. “I was hoping we could meet again tomorrow. The four of us could perhaps take a walk in the Domain, or take tea somewhere?”

  “Yes, excellent idea, Hilton.” Captain Pollings nodded, smiling at Meg. “Shall we collect you around two o’clock?”

  “I…we will look forward to it, Captain, won’t we, Nicola?” Meg’s eyes begged for Nicola to agree.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Then she remembered the afternoon tea arrangement with Frances and Nathaniel. Warmth flooded her face as she looked at Warner. “I just remembered, I have guests tomorrow.”

  “Then the next day,” Meg urged, eagerly staring from one to the other.

  “The next day it is, Miss Robinson.” Captain Pollings kissed her hand.

  They lingered outside on the deck, listening to the music drift across from the naval ship and staring up at the stars.

  Eventually they headed down to find a transport home. The area was still busy and hired hansoms were in great demand despite the late hour.

  “I’ll be counting the minutes until we meet again, Miss Douglas,” Warner whispered, his face shadowed in the street lamplight. “You have no idea what meeting you has done to me.” He raised her hand to his lips and the fluttering in her heart started again.

  Before she could reply a couple sauntered past, and Nicola stared coldly at Tristan Lombard and his chattering female companion. Meg, thankfully, failed to notice him as she listened to the captain. Then, with surprise, Nicola stared at the next couple following Lombard.

  Nathaniel West strolled with a bejewelled young woman clinging to his arm. The woman giggled up at him, her demeanour adoring. One of her hands travelled up his chest, her painted red nails playing with a button on his waistcoat. Nathaniel’s step faltered as he recognised Nicola. His benign expression became a grimace as he glared at her and Warner’s joined hands. He gave a stern nod in her direction and walked away.

  Nicola was grateful the dim lighting hid her heated face. She felt tainted, that the whole evening was ruined, for she was certain Nathaniel would think the worst of her being out so late, that he wouldn’t consider a quiet dinner on a ship would be anything but innocent. He’d think she was no better than him, having a companion. Oh, she wanted to stamp her foot like a child. She wanted to slap his sardonic face. She wanted to… She wanted to go home to bed and forget she had seen him with another woman on his arm.

  Well, again she’d been reminded how he gave his attentions freely. Frances had spoken of his liaisons before and this confirmed it. She had escaped from a commitment to which only one of them would have been loyal.

  * * *

  The following morning, after a dreadful night’s sleep, where she dreamed of being on a sinking ship and the only rescuer was Nathaniel, but he kept rowing away from her, Nicola was determined that work, and lots of it, would be the only way she could get through the day. As she counted the linen sheets returned from the laundry, she prayed that Nathaniel would cry off today and only Frances would call.

  “Nicola!” Meg raced up the stairs as though the hounds of hell chased her.

  Scowling at Meg, Nicola turned back to the shelves of linen in the closet. “Whatever is the matter? Can you not wait until you are near me before talking, instead of yelling the house down?”

  “Come downstairs.” Meg’s eyes glowed with inner happiness. “Quickly, now.” She snatched the list and pencil from Nicola’s hands and flung them onto a shelf then pulled her from the closet.

  “Really, Meg…”

  Downstairs, Meg ushered her into the drawing room, which had been transformed to resemble a flower shop. They both stood on the threshold and stared in wide-eyed amazement. Every conceivable surface held stands of flowers. Perfume thickly scented the air and the riotous colour nearly hurt Nicola’s eyes.

  “Where? Who?” Nicola crossed the room, gently touching the odd flower. “I’ve never seen so many flowers in one room before.”

  “Captain Pollings and Mr Warner. Together. For us.” Meg twirled. “Oh Nicola. How they must esteem us to go to such length, such expense. Have you ever seen such a display of affection?”

  “No…”

  “Nor I. They must have bought every flower in Sydney!”

  “How do you know the flowers are from those two gentleman?”

  From a small occasional table, Meg fished out a square cream card from between two stands. “To two of the most glorious beauties on Australian soil. Although these flowers are nothing compared to your individual loveliness, we hope they can brighten your day as you both have brightened our world. Sincerely and forever yours, Mr Hilton Warner and Captain James Pollings.” Meg looked up and sighed with dreamy rapture. “I know they did it together as a thank you and so it is all very proper, but the effort it must have taken them this morning… That alone deserves our devotion.”

  “Devotion? A little too strong, don’t you think?” Nicola swallowed the emotional lump in her throat. No man had ever bought her such a display of flowers. In fact, the only time she’d received flowers was the sprig of Wattle blossom Nathaniel gave her at Fran’s birthday picnic. Her gaze swept the room again. All this was such a romantic gesture. She wasn’t used to men giving her attention. What was she to do now? How did other women cope? Was there a ritual she needed to learn? Why didn’t she know these things? No books had taught her about this. Panic gripped her.

  Perhaps, instead of helping her father to teach boys, she should have been asking her mother for advice on matters of the heart, but at the time her frail mother had never seemed to be the one who would happily divulge private knowledge, and if Nicola was honest, the thought of courting and courtship itself had seldom presented itself in the forefront of her daily occupations.

  She stared at Meg, who skipped around the r
oom, bending to sniff each of the bouquets. “What do we do about all this?”

  Meg laughed and clapped her hands. “Do? Why, we do nothing, except write a thank you note. Oh, and hope they have more surprises for us.”

  Nicola stepped back towards the door. “No, I don’t want more surprises.”

  “Why ever not? They are so handsome and-”

  “We hardly know them, Meg.”

  “This is how we get more acquainted, silly. Lord, Nicola, there is much you know about things that don’t matter so much, but there’s even more you don’t know about the important issues, such as love and romance.”

  Nicola left the room with Meg’s words ringing in her ears. How true they were. She could teach a child to spell their name or find England on a map, but when it came to men, romance and matters of the heart, she knew very little. Still, it only confirmed her belief that she was meant to be a governess, to be a spinster, all her life.

  She retreated into her study, where she could lose herself in accounts and household issues until Frances arrived, but as she sat at her desk, she felt such a heaviness in her chest, a weight pressing down making it hard to breathe.

  A knock sounded at the door and she turned when it opened. Mr Belfroy stood there, wearing an apologetic smile. “Forgive my intrusion, Miss Douglas.”

  Standing, the worry over men eased a little as she concentrated on the dear man who came forward and kissed her hand.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “You can never interrupt me, Mr Belfroy, I am always at your service.”

  “Indeed, you are good.” He leaned heavily on his cane, the other hand held his hat.

  “Shall I take those for you?” Nicola gestured to his belongings, wondering why Hannah, the maid, hadn’t done her job properly when answering the door.

  “No, thank you, I cannot stay. I have only called for a moment, to discuss with you an idea my nephew mentioned to me this morning.”

  “Mr Warner?”

  “Yes. He thinks we should hold a ball, a charity ball, in honour of this house and the fine women in it.”