Virtue of a Governess - By Anne Brear Page 0,97

but suddenly she tidied herself and became professional again. “Mrs West has arrived.”

“Mrs West?” For a moment, Nicola was confused. She was Mrs West. Then it became clear. “Mr West’s mother is here, already?”

Mrs Rawlings nodded, her expression one of aversion. “Yes, Madam, been here for twenty minutes, she has, and is most put out. I haven’t had the time to send for you as she’s run me ragged. I can barely draw breath from running to do her bidding and her uppity maid thinks she can tell me what to do as well, but I soon put her straight.”

“Good gracious me.” Despite her aching injury, Nicola hurried up the path and through the door. In the hall, she hastily unpinned her hat and smoothed her hair into place. “Where is my husband,” she whispered to Rawlings.

“I haven’t seen him since breakfast, Madam, or Miss West.”

Nicola paled. They hadn’t met their mother off the ship? She closed her eyes momentarily and prayed to some unseen deity to help her through this first meeting. Chin held high, shoulders back, Nicola summoned a smile and sailed into the drawing room.

At the window, a woman dressed in a glorious dress of dove-grey silk edged with black lace, slowly turned towards her. Silvana West gave Nicola a glacial stare from steel grey eyes, Frances’s eyes, only Frances’s were warm and soft, Silvana’s were cold and hard. “And who might you be?”

Ah, so the games begin. Nathaniel was right. Nicola hesitated. The woman would have seen her descend from the carriage and seen her speak with Mrs Rawlings, from those clues alone she would know Nicola was her son’s wife. “I may ask the same of you, Madam, since you are the stranger here, not I.”

“If this is how a stranger is treated on her arrival…” she glanced at Nicola’s wedding ring, “Then I would look to your role more diligently, Madam.”

“All guests are treated well in my home, especially when they are invited.”

The barb struck home and Silvana’s eyes narrowed. “Where is my son?”

“You mean my husband?”

“My God, don’t tell me he’s married you.”

“Who did you think I was?”

Lips squeezed tight together, Silvana drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. “I’ll never understand that boy, never!” She looked around as if searching for an escape.

“I’m sure—”

“Why didn’t he meet my ship? Did you prevent him?”

“Not at all. Why would I?”

“He never could be relied on. I had presumed he’d changed at least in that.”

“Your son has changed in many ways and—”

“Don’t presume to tell me about my ungrateful child.”

Angered, Nicola gripped her skirt. “When Nathaniel left this morning I understood he would be going to the quay to meet you. Perhaps he had other more pressing business to deal with.”

“I am Silvana West.” She tossed her head, nearly dislodging her magnificent wide brimmed hat, with its profusion of black feathers. “I refuse to be spoken to in such an insolent way by a former governess.”

“And I am Nicola West. This is my home, and I refuse to be spoken to this way also.”

“How did you snare my son’s affections?” Silvana’s contemptuous look made Nicola grit her teeth in anger. “My son had no wish to marry, he said it often enough. Yet, somehow, you’ve managed to secure him. From what I gather from the staff here my hope of Nathanial marry well is dashed. A governess. How will it be borne? What is your family, your connections?”

Nicola stiffened, the insults hitting her like darts. “That is none of your business.”

“Ah, so you must not have any otherwise you’d happily mention them.”

“I am not answerable to you. How dare you enter my home, uninvited, and insult me?”

Noise from the drive had both of them glance out the window. Nicola sagged at the sight of Nathaniel helping Fran down from the gig. Her first thought was to run out to them and beg for them to rid her of this awful woman, but when she glanced back at Silvana she found the woman had tears running down her cheeks. Nicola blinked, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Silvana drew out a flimsy scrap of black-laced linen and dabbed at her eyes just as Nathaniel and Fran stepped into the room.

“Mother.” Nathaniel stopped and frowned. “We are sorry to have missed you at the docks.”

“Oh, my darling boy, and sweet Frances, my dearest daughter.” Silvana ran to them and embraced them to her, sobbing as though her heart would break.

Amazed at this turn around, Nicola

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