A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,1

passed five years before.

“There now,” Hannah murmured. “There child.” Child. No one had called her child in years. Now here was Papa and Hannah both addressing her as such, in the same day. She had been Miss Walters to all their pupils as soon as she had turned seventeen. “You let those tears flow freely now, miss,” Hannah encouraged. “He was a good gentleman and an honest master. None can say fairer than that.”

Mina sobbed until her throat was raw and her face sore from tears. She scarcely heard the words which flowed from Hannah’s lips in a steady stream. She caught the odd sentiment. “We’ll soon have him laid out and then buried like a good Christian,” and “A real gent to the end he was—even his manner of passing was mild as a lamb.” But the words held no meaning to her at the time. It was Hannah’s steady, solid manner she derived comfort from.

Over the next three days, she found herself grateful all over again for the dependable Hannah. The servant had stood stalwart beside her in her best black bombazine during the funeral service, then again when it came to facing their landlords Messrs Roberts and Simpkin Esquire who called at the school the very next day to collect the outstanding balance.

“She’s just put her father in the ground, God rest his soul,” Hannah had said fiercely when Mr. Simpkin seemed to take issue with the amount of outstanding rent Mina made over to him.

Mr. Roberts hastily intervened. “Quite, quite,” he said, stroking his large handlebar mustache. “I am sure we most heartily lament the loss of your dear father. Of course, my colleague is quite correct, usually we would require three months’ notice before one of our properties is vacated…” He caught Hannah’s eye and coughed. “However, under such regrettable circumstances, we will of course, make an exception.”

“You are very kind,” Mina said flatly. After paying over the sum owed for the burial and interment, she had a matter of mere pennies left in her purse. As it was, she knew not how she was to pay the rest of Hannah’s wages.

“So, you will be leaving Bath imminently, my dear Miss Walters,” Mr. Roberts continued as Mr. Simpkin continued to brood heavily beside him.

“Yes,” Mina said briefly. “I await my new direction any day now, by return of post.” Her lips felt numb as the private living quarters they occupied were very cold that morning, for they had not yet dared light a fire. She could not feel her fingertips; despite the black lace mittens which Hannah had dyed along with the rest of her raiment. They had closed the schoolrooms and the dormitories weeks ago, but they still could not keep the few rooms they used warm. Not on the small amount of coal they had been rationing. The scuttle was practically empty.

The last paying pupil had left well over a month ago, long before Papa’s illness had really taken grip. In truth, their admissions had been sadly dwindling over the past couple of years. Their little school had never been fashionable, but it had been solidly respectable. It was almost frightening, Mina reflected how quickly a steady paying business could go down the drain and one could be out on the street. Their patrons had distanced themselves and none had replied to the last few letters she had written.

“To relatives?” Mr. Roberts pressed. Mina stared at the broken blood-vessels on his bulbous nose and wondered if he was a secret drinker.

“I am hoping to secure a position as a governess,” Mina corrected him.

“Now, if you gentlemen would excuse us,” Hannah said loudly, pursing her lips. “My young lady has several matters she needs to wind up before she can pack her bags.”

This was another lie, Mina thought but was grateful for Hannah’s intercession. She had neatly packed up her things the day before. All packed up and nowhere to go. Nosy Mr. Roberts and sour Mr. Simpkin were ushered out of the front door and Mina sat at her father’s walnut writing desk and laboriously wrote out a set of glowing references for Hannah.

As she laid down her pen, she felt the beginnings of a dizzy terror at what was to become of her. Her future yawned before her like a frightening chasm which would swallow her up into nothingness. She had no-one. Even Hannah had prospective employment lined up with a young widow in town, though she professed herself quite willing to