Virtue of a Governess - By Anne Brear Page 0,67

Florence entered the room.

“My, he’s some lungs on him, Miss Douglas.”

“Florence, he needs feeding and I have to send word to the Walkers.” Warm wetness filled Nicola’s hand through the baby’s napkin. “Oh dear, he’s wet, too.”

“Give him here to me, Miss.” Florence deftly took the child and cradled him to her. “I’ll take him to the kitchen and see what we can do. Perhaps Mrs Walker can come today?”

“I’ll wash and change my clothes and then send word to her.”

Silence descended once Florence left with the baby. Nicola washed her hands in a bowl on her dresser. “I’m sorry I wasn’t prepared for your visit, Frances.”

“A baby arriving would disrupt the best laid plans, I should think.”

“I wish his appearance was under happier circumstances.” Nicola selected a pale apricot skirt and bodice from her wardrobe. “I wish something could be done for him to remain with his mother.”

“Wishing is for children, Nicola,” Frances snapped.

“Why are you in such a bad mood for?”

Sighing, Frances slumped onto the bed. “Forgive me. I am not fit for company. I should have stayed home, but I needed to talk to someone.”

“What has happened?”

“My mother has sent for Nat and I to return home. Our father has died. We only received the telegram informing us this morning.”

Amazed at the news, Nicola went to sit beside her. “Will you return to England?”

“I will not go. There is nothing for me in England, and my mother is ashamed of me and my views. No, I shall stay here.” Frances twisted her fingers together. “I’m afraid Nat might go though, and it bothers me greatly. He is all I have and if he were to leave…”

Nicola found it hard to breathe. Her stomach twisted like a spring. Nathaniel gone, for good? Her mouth went dry. “But he cares little for your mother.”

“True. However, he is her son, as I am her daughter, and there is always something inside that makes it hard to turn your back on them completely. Although Nat would refuse to acknowledge it under threat of torture, I believe he’s been waiting for the day when our parents would make amends for the hurt they’ve inflicted.”

“But he wants to make a life in this country. Your mother has your older brother for comfort.” She bit back the insane urge to shout that she wouldn’t allow either of them to leave.

“My older brother, Gerald, is worse than useless. It seems he’s married to a woman my mother doesn’t care for. Hardly surprising. My mother writes that my sister-in-law has no intellect, is as quiet as a mouse and cannot play cards well, that alone is a capital offence in mother’s eyes.” Frances grinned. “My mother is a diligent card player. One of the best female competitors in London, of her circle, of course.”

Unable to sit still, Nicola jerked up and paced the room. “Would he…I mean, would Nathaniel stay permanently in London?”

“Well yes, it’s very likely. The estate goes to my older brother, but apparently Nat and I haven’t been left out of father’s will, which we imagined would happen. Our father was an unlovable tyrant, but in death, he’s been fair for once. There are businesses and houses for us, and all manner of things.”

“But your brother left England for a reason. He wanted to start again in this country, to build a life here.”

“Heavens, don’t romanticise it, Nicola.” Frances gave a mock laugh. “Nat came here because it was as far away as he could get from our parents.”

“I see.” She didn’t see anything, she only felt ill at the thought of Nathaniel leaving.

“There’s nothing keeping him here now. He knows I’ll be fine, if a little lonely.” Frances pulled out her watch from her pocket. “Oh lord, I’m dreadfully late. There’s a rally on in Macquarie Street against the new Contagious Diseases Act.”

“What is that about?”

“Locking up prostitutes for examination. Oh, I can’t explain it now, I’m far too late as it is.” She kissed Nicola’s cheek. “Thank you for listening, even with all you have to deal with. You’re a dear friend.”

“You know I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

“I’ll come again soon. Good luck with the baby.” With a final wave, Frances scooted out the door.

Nicola gently lowered herself down onto a wooden chair by the window. She felt fragile, hollow. Only now that Frances had gone could she concede to the deadening pain that squeezed her chest. Nathaniel gone. How would she survive never seeing him again?

No, he

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