extremely light. “Is there anything is this?” She smiled, meaning it to be a joke.
Tears shimmered in Miss Bent’s eyes. “Only undergarments. I had to sell my books and…and even my clothes. I made the mistake of staying at a hotel and they charged me an exorbitant amount.”
“Never mind, we’ll soon have you put back to rights again.” As they entered the hall, Florence came out of the parlour. “Oh, Miss McIntyre, we have a new guest, Miss Bent. Can you show her up to one of the rooms, please?” Nicola turned to Sara. “I’ll order you a tray of something and would you care for a bath?”
“That would be very acceptable, thank you.” Miss Bent untied her bonnet and took it off, revealing raven black hair. She put a hand up to the lank ribbon securing her plait. “It’s been too long since I’ve been able to wash properly, especially my hair.”
“Miss McIntyre, we have some spare clothes, don’t we? Miss Bent is in need of a dress or two.”
“Yes, indeed, Miss Douglas, leave it to me. I’ll see that Miss Bent is comfortable.” Florence replied, gesturing for their new guest to precede her up the staircase.
Nicola smiled at her. “Thank you.” She lowered her voice as Florence passed. “I think she’ll be hungry and rather exhausted. Let her freshen up before the others descend on her.”
Florence gave an understanding nod.
Nicola turned away and headed for the kitchen. As always, when she received a new guest, she had mixed emotions about it. Part of her was happy to be able to provide a room to a needy lady, but then part of her found it depressing to witness such misery, such hopelessness.
She had to try harder to find these women worthwhile employment.
* * *
Heads close, scrutinising the building plans, Nicola listened to the foreman’s explanations and didn’t realise she had a visitor until Mr Warner stood beside her. “Oh, Mr Warner.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Douglas.” He smiled, bowing.
“Not at all.”
“Meg told me you’d be down here. She says this is where you are each day.”
“Yes, things are happening at a rapid pace.” She thanked the foreman before slipping her hand onto Warner’s arm, who looked dashing today in a pale fawn suit. “Come and look at the progress of the orphanage. The roof on the dormitory has been completed, and the school room is nearly ready for its windows.” She led him between stacks of timber, roof slates and labourers, who were hammering, sawing and working hard in the afternoon heat.
“It’s all very impressive, I must say, and so quick.”
“Money has been flowing in since the ball. So many people have responded to us and it’s all thanks to you.” She smiled gratefully at him.
Hilton peered into a window opening. “Don’t thank me yet. Soon you’ll be surrounded by yelling children. How on earth will you cope then?”
She laughed, light-hearted at the success so far of the Home. “There are enough of us to manage. Some of the women are studying for their teacher’s certificate. We’re hoping the government will acknowledge us as a legitimate school and provide funding for teachers’ wages.”
“Do you ever stop, Miss Douglas?”
“Why should I stop?” She frowned. “I have so much to do.”
He looked away and walked over to inspect a pile of stone. “You will not want to leave here.”
Her enthusiasm for the project faded at his sad expression. She was being unfair to him, cruel even and that wasn’t like her. It’d been weeks since the ball and for weeks she’d been dodging his questioning gaze whenever they were together. She never allowed them to be alone and kept putting off making a final decision about his proposal. Nicola bowed her head, knowing the time had come.
“Miss Douglas.” He took her hand and she looked up into his eyes. “I knew my answer on the night of the ball.”
“How?”
“When you danced with Mr West. No one looking at you as closely as I was would have detected the subtle way your fingers caressed his shoulder as you danced.”
She jerked back. “They didn’t.”
His smile mocked her vehement denial. “Yes, they did. You might not have let your face show your feelings, but I could tell. When in love, your perception of some things becomes very clear,” he shrugged, ‘though in others not so clear.”
Shaking her head, Nicola headed back to the house. He was mistaken. “You are quite wrong, Mr Warner.”