An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy)

by Lizzie Church

  ‘Yes,’ said Kathryn. ‘Yes. It is because we have heard of your predicament that we are here. We wanted to assure you that neither of us believes one word of what Georgiana has been accusing you of. Indeed, quite the contrary, which we hope to be able to prove in due course. But we also wanted to offer you some practical aid – some assistance which would actually help us out as well. We cannot stand quite by and see such an injustice being done to you. It is not right. So we would like to make a little proposition to you. Mr Berkeley and I have discussed the matter at length and are quite agreed upon it. Now, I am afraid that you may see it as a step down, Miss Owens, but perhaps it may suffice for you for the moment at any rate. You will remember our daughter, Kate. I recall that you met her briefly in the street one time. She is four and a half years old and quite bright, I think. She will be five next March. Sally, our nurse, is becoming quite elderly. It is hard enough for her to manage three children on her own, and once the new baby arrives it will certainly not be possible for her manage all four. So we were wondering whether you might be interested in joining us at Belvoir House in the capacity of part-nursemaid, part governess to Kate – just starting her off with her numbers and letters, listening to her read, helping with her sewing and drawing – that sort of thing – but also seeing to her personal needs when her papa and I are otherwise engaged? It would mean a good deal to Sally to share the load a little, and we should be most grateful if you could find it in you to agree. I hope you do not mind my asking, Miss Owens. I know it is not quite what you are used to and I do not mean to insult you....’

  Maggie could see that Mrs Berkeley felt quite hesitant to make what she saw as a demeaning offer to her and she immediately wanted to reassure her that she was not at all insulted by it. Insulted? No indeed. She did not feel any insult whatsoever. Indeed, she felt grateful – grateful and very, very pleased. Kate, she already knew, would prove to be an extremely amenable sort of a child – not a perfect child by any means (who would want that, anyway?) but a well trained one who would do one’s bidding and would not attempt to murder her brothers – and the opportunity to live at Belvoir House – the beautiful house which she had so fallen in love with as soon as she had seen it - the opportunity of gaining such an unexceptionable situation so quickly after her disgrace - well, what more could she possibly have asked for? Other than Mr Staveley turning up that very afternoon, fortune in hand, taking her lovingly in his arms and begging her to marry him immediately - a prospect which, though singularly attractive, seemed rather less likely than the alternative which Mrs Berkeley had so recently opened up for her - she could think of nothing that would delight her more.

  So Maggie started to thank her benefactress – started to thank her and then stopped. Most embarrassingly she found that her lips had started to tremble, that her eyes had started to fill and that her voice had become quite choked. As much as she wanted to, she found that it was quite impossible to voice her thanks. She looked at Mrs Berkeley despairingly. For a second Mrs Berkeley looked back at her, perhaps a little startled. But she did not look back at her for long. Seeing the distress that she was in, and responding instantly to it, she rose a little awkwardly from the chair, stepped towards Maggie with a beaming smile, put her arms around her and gave her a friendly little hug.

  ‘Shall we take that as a ‘yes’ then, Miss Owens?’ she said, releasing her gently and offering her a handkerchief, which Maggie took. ‘Thank you so much. I am so pleased. Then allow us to give you a hand to re-label your trunk and we shall get it delivered over to Belvoir House in absolutely no time at all. It is a pity that you will have wasted your rent but I suppose that that will not worry you too much?’

  Chapter 35

  It is hardly any wonder that Maggie was feeling a little overwhelmed and emotional as she sat on the bed in a small but very pretty attic room overlooking the kitchen garden at the rear of Belvoir House. In the space of only a very few days her life had taken so many twists and turns it was scarcely imaginable. On the one hand there had been the shock of Mr Wright’s clandestine visit to her chamber that terrible night, leading to her proud rejection of him and the spiteful accusations of his wife. There had been the panic induced by the need to find herself some immediate accommodation, the concern about however she might pay for it and the depressing let-down of the miserable room which she had finally managed to secure. But the totally unexpected and entirely welcome intervention of Mrs Berkeley had negated all of these. After all her trials and tribulations she had found herself transported to a beautiful house, with a most charming employer and a motherly mentor by name of Sally to take her in hand, and one delightful little girl to be her only charge. So from the depths of the despair from which, scarcely eight hours before, it had appeared that she should find no immediate or easy way out, Maggie suddenly found herself smiling once again – smiling, a little disbelievingly but in relief, that here, at last, she might actually be able to make a reasonable life for herself. She could still hardly believe her luck. She looked around her new room appreciatively. It was light and bright, with a large window. The furniture, though perhaps a little on the old side, was perfectly respectable and most attractive – in a cream painted satinwood, with chintz accessories – and more than adequate for her needs. Mrs Berkeley had thoughtfully asked that some flowers should be brought up to her. They sat there now on a table – some yellow roses from the garden – providing a delicate scent to welcome her to her new home. Mrs Berkeley. What a lovely, sweet person she was. And Mr Berkeley – elegant, fun, totally engaging. How very like Freddy he was. He seemed the perfect foil to his calm, eternally thoughtful wife. Maggie realised that she was fond of them both already.

  If Maggie had felt bewildered enough about her current situation and how she had got there, the news of Captain Wright and Mr Staveley’s imminent return to Weymouth, duly transmitted to Belvoir a few days later, served only to add to her confusion and make her feel anxious, impatient, desperate and strangely disturbed, all at the very same time.

  It was the excited Mrs John who bustled up to Belvoir House, letter in hand, to share the news with her relations.

  ‘They have got themselves the promise of a boat, Kathryn,’ she panted, as soon as she was let in through the door. ‘Just think of it – John shall have his own command at last. I am so pleased about it I can hardly keep still! I am still not sure exactly how it all happened, and John is not the best correspondent in the world. But apparently they had the good fortune to bump into an Admiral of their acquaintance whilst they were wandering about Town. It appears that he remembered them for one reason or another and when he learned that they were both in need of a boat he used his influence to get them one. I can hardly believe it. What a tremendous piece of luck....’

  By this time Maggie had discovered that her life at Belvoir was to be utterly different from the one she had experienced at Grosvenor Place. Not only had she been given a full tour of the property by the ever obliging lady of the house, and the extent of her duties and responsibilities and a most generous salary fully agreed with her, but she had also been assured of a very warm welcome at any time, and whether there were visitors or not, in all of the public rooms. Both Mr and Mrs Berkeley had expressed the sincere hope that she should practice on the splendid pianoforte in the drawing room whenever she wished to do so. The children, whom she had been introduced to at the earliest opportunity, were well mannered and affectionate – they were obviously well used to being cuddled and played with – and the nursery in which she was sitting with Sally at that very moment was just what any child – or nursemaid – could possibly wish for – bright, welcoming, replete with exciting and interesting toys and covered in a blue striped fabric which was hung diagonally down the sloping ceilings to the walls and which gave the whole room the warm, intimate and extremely pleasing atmosphere of a most exotic tent.

  Yet in spite of all of this – the welcome, the comfort, the satisfaction of knowing that her pupil was an affectionate and amenab
le child who would be perfectly rewarding to teach, the generosity of her charming employers – in spite of all of this, Maggie was still finding that her gratitude and relief were being overshadowed all the time by a stubborn feeling of despondency. Indeed, in spite of telling herself that she was the luckiest creature that had ever lived, despite knowing that she was incredibly fortunate to have found so unexceptionable a situation so quickly after her disgrace, she was finding still that her feeling of terror had refused to go away. And though she was perfectly alive to the reasons for this anxiety, she was somewhat at a loss to know what she could do about it. For it was all to do with Freddy. Freddy was in her head all the time. He would not leave it for a moment. He was there, day and night, in her thoughts and in her dreams – talking to her, listening to her, smiling at her in his peculiarly bashful yet exquisitely appealing little way, taking her in his arms and kissing her for a deliciously delirious lifetime. She had missed him when she had known him to be in London, but now she knew that Freddy would soon be back, that Freddy would return to Weymouth full of his happy news, perhaps hoping to share it with her, perhaps hoping that she would spare him a little of her time, only to be greeted, instead, by Mrs William’s spiteful accusations and the shock of her dismissal, it was somehow even worse. She knew that she was desperate not to disappoint him. She knew that she was desperate to see him. She ached to see him and talk with him and be with him once again. But – well, she was also still haunted by the terrifying thought that this dear, dear man might be so disgusted with the very idea that she – Maggie – might steal from his mama that he would straightway cut off all intercourse with her for ever. And so while she knew that she wanted to see him she was also dreading the moment when that reunion might take place – to see the look of rejection and disgust upon his much-loved face, to see him turn away from her in scorn. But at least a reunion might give her the opportunity to set things to rights once more, the opportunity to state her case, and yet a reunion was certainly not inevitable. Indeed, he may avoid the very possibility of seeing her again. But what could Maggie do about it? It was totally inappropriate for her to visit at Grosvenor Place – it was inconceivable that a governess should even think of doing such a thing - and, indeed, other than to clear her name with the lady and gentleman concerned she had absolutely no desire at all to do so. Mr Staveley had not been in the habit of calling at Belvoir House. Why should he? So unless she were to be exceedingly lucky and spot him in the street one day, which she had to admit to herself was extremely unlikely, she should have no real chance of meeting up with him at all.

  In all of this, however, Maggie had underestimated the determination of her new employer. Mild mannered, kind and generous as she was, Mrs Berkeley even so possessed a good deal of grit and determination when she could see that another person’s welfare was at stake. And as she had decided not to let matters rest until she had both restored Maggie’s good name and also enabled Mr Staveley to assure her that this had been done she was certainly not to be thwarted by the mere fact of Mr Staveley living a mile or so down the road. So as soon as she had heard from her sister-in-law of both gentlemen’s safe return she persuaded Mr Berkeley to send a brief note to Grosvenor Place, requesting the pleasure of Mr Staveley’s company at tea the next afternoon. This she sent via George, the footman, with strict instructions to place it directly into the intended recipient’s hands, even if this meant awaiting the gentleman all day on his own in the hallway.

  Chapter 36

  ‘So you will understand exactly why we felt it important to discuss the matter with you prior to taking any action on it, Mr Staveley.’

  Mr Berkeley had just completed a full and detailed explanation to Mr Staveley of what he and his wife currently understood to be the situation regarding the property and finances of his mama and was now munching thoughtfully on a biscuit while his visitor absorbed what he had just that moment been told.

  ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Yes, M....Mr B...Berkeley. I can ap....appreciate where you are coming from, to b...be sure. And you are quite certain that it was m....my mother’s jewellery that m...my cousin took into the shop to sell?’

  ‘Yes – that is, as certain as we can be. We both saw it as clearly as we can see you now. Mrs William was totally innocent of our presence in the shop and I regret that we did not see the necessity of making ourselves known to her at the time. It would be too much of a coincidence, surely, for Mrs William to have two such items of her own?’

  ‘Indeed,’ put in Kathryn, quietly. ‘One of the actions that we might wish to consider would be to return to Mr Weld’s shop and see whether the items are still there – and perhaps see whether the pins have turned up there as well. I daresay that you would be able to identify them as the ones lost by your mama, Mr Staveley? Even were you to find them sold, given the likely nature of the transaction,’ here Kathryn smiled a little ‘I daresay that Mr Weld – as well as his assistant – would be well able to describe them to you. I expect he would be able to describe the lady who sold them to him as well. I cannot imagine for one moment that the experience was an entirely happy one for him.’

  The two gentlemen shared her smile.

  ‘Well,’ said Mr Staveley, eventually. ‘I am not too certain that I want to accuse m...my cousins personally of stealing m...my mama’s things. It is difficult enough for her, living alongside them as she does. I do not want to make m..matters even worse, although I’d certainly like to get the trinkets b...back for her if I can.’

  ‘Well, if you would like to call in at Mr Weld’s to enquire about them I’d be most happy to accompany you there as a witness, Mr Staveley. I do not wish to cast aspersions on your relatives, but I have a feeling that we should all take the utmost care in our dealings with Mrs Wright.’

  Mr Staveley brightened a little at this suggestion. He had obviously not relished the thought of tackling the investigation on his own.

  ‘Yes. And if we find that your susp....suspicions are well founded, Mr Berkeley, p....per....perhaps you would be good enough to acc....accompany me to Grosvenor P...Place to raise it with my cousins?’

  The agreement reached, Mr Staveley accepted another cup of tea and looked at Kathryn with what appeared to be a little embarrassment. She looked back at him and gave him an encouraging smile.

  The warmth of the smile appeared to embolden him a little.

  ‘Could I take the lib....liberty of thanking you, M...Mrs B...Berkeley, for being so kind as to offer Miss....Miss Owens a home?’ he said at last, reddening ever such a little. ‘I was m...most concerned when m...my mother told me that my cousin had sent her away. Indeed, she was quite distressed ab....about it. She had grown quite fond of her, I think.’

  Kathryn smiled even more.

  ‘Would you like to see her, Mr Staveley? I’m sure she would welcome the opportunity of assuring herself that you do not believe in her guilt.’

  Mr Staveley brightened even more.

  ‘Yes, I would like that,’ he assured her. ‘I would like to reassure her that I have every intention of re...remaining her friend and that I do not b...believe for one m...moment that she has done anything wrong at all, and that neither does m...my mother.’

  This was more than enough for Kathryn. A startled Miss Owens was immediately invited into the drawing room and, almost without realising it, instantly found herself being provided with a fresh pot of tea and a seat next to Mr Staveley’s on the pretty blue-and-white sofa near the window.

  And indeed, it was just as well that she had been given no intimation of Mr Staveley’s visit, for even as it was the sight of him standing there as she entered, looking fixedly at the ground, and the nature of her feelings for him, and the nature of her worries concerning him, made her redden so much that even Mr Berkeley appeared to notice.

  ‘There, there, Miss Owens – there is no need to look so uncomfortable. Mr Staveley has not come to interrogate you. We thought that you might like to hear what he has to say.’

  It may wel
l be that both Mr Staveley and Maggie had plenty to say to each other. Indeed, they probably did, but for some reason neither of them felt in a position to say any of it in the presence of Mr and Mrs Berkeley. So, it was left to Kathryn to speak for them – suggesting quietly that Maggie might have felt a little worried about what Mr and Mrs Staveley had made of the situation and assuring her that neither Mr nor Mrs Staveley in any way considered her to blame.

  Maggie’s joy as Kathryn told her this was almost tangible. It was as if a thick dark cloud had suddenly lifted from atop her very shoulders to reveal a brilliant orange sunshine in a deep blue sky beyond. Indeed, so elated was she that for a good few moments she felt completely unable to articulate a word, but from the beaming smile on her face and the tears in her eyes it was evident to all of them that her relief at this assurance was totally and truly absolute.

  Another silence followed the first, with Mr Staveley seemingly quite as unable as Maggie had been to articulate a thing, and Maggie fully occupied by the delightful emotions that Mrs Berkeley’s assurances had just that moment evoked in her. Mr Staveley still believed in her. He had believed in her innocence in the face of his own cousin’s assertions to the contrary and here he was – looking as bashful and handsome and lovable and adorable and desirable and Freddy-like as ever – as living proof that he believed in her. It was enough to send any young lady into a paroxysm of delight and for a moment she could hardly restrain herself from throwing her arms around him and kissing him passionately on the lips. It was perhaps fortunate, therefore, that she recovered herself just in time, recollecting that Mr Staveley had only recently arrived from London and that he had come from there with some important news of his own.

  ‘And I understand that congratulations are in order, Mr Staveley,’ she managed to blurt out eventually. ‘Captain Wright has been given his first command and you are to join him on board. You must be very pleased.’