out and only just returned, crossed her arms and didn’t appear satisfied by the statement. “Does your good husband know of you being here?”
“No, he doesn’t and what’s more he doesn’t need to know. I will be back in my parlour before he is aware of it.” She gave Florence a meaningful look. “And you aren’t to tell him either, Florence McIntyre.” Nicola raised a knowing eyebrow. “I am as capable of sitting here as I am at home.”
“You’re a brave woman, Mrs West.” Miss Bent smiled.
Florence glared at the women. “I hope to God you’ve not tired Mrs West. She’s been through a terrible ordeal and I’ll—”
“Miss McIntyre.” Nicola raised her eyebrows, hiding a laugh as the woman’s annoyance brought out her Scottish accent more thickly. “The ladies have been very good and aren’t deserving of your displeasure.”
“Even so, I’m sure you’d like some time to yourself. Come, ladies.” Florence steered them all out, except Miss Bent, who approached to the desk.
“I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private, if you please?”
“Of course.” Nicola indicated for her to sit down as the women filed out of the study. “Oh, Miss McIntyre?”
“Yes, Mrs West.” Florence held the door.
“Will you join me in half an hour, please?”
Florence nodded, her back stiff with authority. ‘shall I order you a tea tray too?”
“Bring it with you when you come back.”
“Very good, Madam.”
When the door closed, Nicola rested back in her chair and smiled at Sara Bent. The young woman had put on a small amount of weight, filling out her thin frame. “You wished to speak with me?”
“Yes, Mrs West.” Miss Bent sat on the edge of the chair, her shoulders rigid. “I wish to inform you of my impending marriage.”
Surprised, Nicola stared. ‘Marriage?”
“Yes. In the past two months I have been on friendly terms with Mr Greenwood, Frank Greenwood, of Greenwood Butchers in Macquarie Street.”
“I see. He owns a butcher shop.”
“No, his father does. However, it will be Frank’s one day. It is a good business and old Mr Greenwood is a widower and a nice man.” Miss Bent blinked rapidly, a sign of her nervousness. “Please do not think of me as being unscrupulous while you were ill. Everything between Mr Greenwood and myself has been completely proper and correct. We met by chance while out walking one evening. From there we have become friends and strolled in the Domain a number of times. He is a good man, Mrs West.”
“And he proposed to you?”
“Yes, last Sunday, after we went to a musical performance. I’ve been thinking it over and this morning I sent him my reply.”
“So you have thought about this very seriously? You haven’t accepted simply because you see no alternative?”
“Oh, no. Indeed, I haven’t thought about anything else. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it weighing on my mind. But I reasoned that this is a good chance for me. I’d have the security of marriage, my own home and a family. Mr Greenwood senior said I could send for my mother, if I wished, but I doubt she”ll come.”
“Well, that is generous of him indeed. When is your marriage to take place?”
“At the end of June. Is it possible for me to stay here until then, or must I leave now since I’m no longer looking for a position?”
“We are not so full that we are turning people away for lack of beds, so you are welcome to stay until your marriage. You might find the other women will enjoy having such a happy diversion to think about.”
“Thank you, Mrs West, you are very kind.” Miss Bent stood, seemingly more relaxed. “I shall go tell Mr Greenwood of my staying here.”
“You may also tell him that I wish you both well.” Nicola grinned. “And you may hold your wedding breakfast here if you wish. Mr Belfroy loves nothing more than a good wedding. He will probably offer to give you away, if it pleases you.”
Miss Bent’s eyes widened. “Oh, you are generous, Mrs West, thank you, and to Mr Belfroy, too.” She dashed from the room.
Nicola let out a long breath, content to hear some good news. She opened the account books and checked the figures. A pile of correspondence sat next to the ledgers and she idly picked up one or two. Most were invitations for various dinner parties, but some were letters from previous women who had stayed at the Home. Normally, she would be eager to read