Victoria Holt - The Secret Woman

I went to the table and unlocked a drawer. I took out two five-pound notes.

“Take these,” I said.

“I’d rather die,” she retorted dramatically.

“Please, I beg of you.”

“Why should you beg of me?”

“Because you suspect me of something. I’m not sure what. You think I helped to bring this about. It’s quite untrue but because you have suspected me you owe it to me to take this money.”

She stared from it to me, and I could see the look in her eyes; she was calculating how long it would last. As for myself I was picturing her in some lonely lodging writing for posts that sounded good on paper. I thought of arrogant and demanding mistresses — peevish old ladies who needed a companion; mischievous thoughtless schoolboys like Edward. I felt the tears coming to my eyes.

She saw them too and they were more effective than any words I could have uttered.

“I thought … I thought …” she said.

“That I had hidden the child? But what could I have possibly done that for? Don’t you see it’s all so far-fetched. Oh, I understand. You’re terribly upset. I daresay Lady Crediton was … beastly.”

She nodded.

“Please, will you take this money? It’s not much. I wish I could give you more.”

She sat down then, staring before her, and I put the money into the pocket of her dress.

“I’m going to make you a good cup of tea,” I said. “A nice sweet cup of tea. You’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel.”

I put the kettle on. I was by no means as calm as I appeared; my hands were shaking a little.

While I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I told her that if I heard of any suitable posts I would get in touch with her. In my profession I went around quite a bit. I would not forget it.

She sipped the tea and when she had drunk it, she said: “I owe you an apology.”

“Forget this,” I said. “I understand. You have had a shock. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I shall leave in the morning,” she said.

“Where shall you go?”

“I know a very reasonable lodging house in the town. I shall soon find something.”

“I know you will,” I said.

And when she left I was sure she looked upon me as a friend. As for myself, I was certainly disturbed, but I had meant it when I said that if ever I heard of a post which would be suitable for her I should let her know.

July 11th. Lady Crediton sent for me today. I had forgotten how awe-inspiring she could be for it was so rarely that I was received into the presence. She sat upright, her back as straight as that of her ornate chair which was like a throne. Her snowy white cap might have been a crown, she wore it so regally.

“Ah, Nurse Loman, pray be seated.”

I sat.

“I sent for you because I have a proposition to put before you. I have had several talks with Dr. Elgin and he informs me that your patient’s health is not improving.”

She looked sternly at me as though this was somehow due to my incompetence, but I was no Miss Beddoes to be intimidated.

I said: “Dr. Elgin has no doubt told you of the reason for this.”

“He believes that our climate is not good for her, and it is because of this that I have come to this decision. Mrs. Stretton is going to pay a visit to her native shores. If this improves her health we shall know that it was indeed the climate here which was detrimental to it.”

“I see.”

“Now, Nurse. Two alternatives present themselves. She will need a nurse in attendance. We have no doubt of that. Dr. Elgin has a good opinion of your efficiency. Therefore I am offering you a choice. You may accompany her and continue to nurse her if you wish; or if you decide that you do not wish to stay with her you will be brought back to England at my expense. If however you do not wish to accompany her, there is nothing to be done but terminate your engagement here.”

I was silent for a while. I had been expecting this of course, but I kept thinking of Anna.

“Well?” she said.

“Your ladyship will understand that it is rather a big decision to make.”

She grudgingly conceded this.

“I admit that it would be a little inconvenient if you were to decide to leave your patient. She has become accustomed to you … and you to her.”

She waited. The use of her favorite word “inconvenient” implied that she expected me to save her from that undesirable state.

“I do agree that I understand her,” I said. “But it is still a big decision for me to make.” Then I said suddenly: “Lady Crediton, may I put a proposition to you?”

She looked startled, and before she could refuse I hurried on: “I have been wondering about the little boy, Edward. He will presumably be with his mother?”

“Y-yes,” she admitted grudgingly. “For a short time perhaps. He is young and would come back here in due course, I daresay.”

“But he would go with her?”

She looked at me with astonishment. This was not the usual manner in which she conducted interviews with her employees.

“Miss Beddoes has gone,” I said. “I could not undertake to look after the child and my patient, but I daresay your ladyship had thought of employing a governess or nurse for the child.”

She was still amazed. She did not discuss the domestic affairs of the Castle with people whom, she considered, they did not concern.

I went on quickly: “It is just possible that a friend of mine might agree to take on the post of looking after Edward. If she did … then I should be delighted to accompany Mrs. Stretton.”

A look of relief came into her face, and she was too taken aback to hide it. She very much wanted me to go with Monique; and she had realized that after all she would be needing a governess for Edward.

When Chantel came to see me that day I was aware of how excited she was as soon as I heard the iron gate click and, looking from a top window, saw her coming across the lawn. She looked almost breathtakingly beautiful. She was so dainty and with her cape flying out about her, her feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground, she was like an illustration from The Golden Fairy Book from which my mother used to read to me.

I ran down to the door. I did not have to wend my way now that so much of the furniture had gone. We embraced. She was laughing excitedly.

“News, news!” she cried. She came into the hall and looked round it. “Why, it’s changed. It looks like a hall.”

“It’s more how it was meant to look,” I said.

“Thank goodness some of those wicked old clocks have gone. Tick tock, tick tock. I wonder they didn’t get on your nerves.”

“They’ve gone alas, for what is called ‘a song’.”

“Never mind. They’ve gone. Now listen, Anna. Something has happened.”

“I can see that.”

“What I want you to do is to read my journal and then you’ll get the picture. While you do that I’m going into the town to shop.”

“But you’ve only just come.”

“Listen. Until you’ve read that you won’t see the picture clearly. Do be sensible, Anna. I’ll be back in an hour. Not longer. So get down and read now.”

She was off again, leaving me standing there in the depleted hall, the book in my hand.

So I sat down and read; and when I came to the rather abrupt ending of her account with her in Lady Crediton’s presence making her suggestion, I knew what this implied.

I found myself staring at the few pieces that were left, and I thought irrelevantly that no one would ever buy the truly exquisite jewel cabinet, with its pewter and ivory on an ebony ground and its carved figures representing spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Who wanted such a jewel cabinet now, however beautiful? What had possessed Aunt Charlotte to spend a large sum of money to acquire something for which there were very few buyers in the world? And upstairs was the Chinese collection. Still, in the last weeks I had begun to see the daylight of solvency. I would be able to pay the debts I had inherited. It seemed that I might have a clear start.

A clear start. That was exactly what Chantel was offering me.

I could scarcely wait for her return. I asked Ellen to make a pot of tea before she left. She was not working every day now. Mr. Orfey had put his foot down. His business was improving and he wanted his wife at home to help him. It was only as a special favor that she came at all.

Ellen said she would make the tea and added that her sister often spoke very highly of Nurse Loman.

“Of course they think highly of her.”

“Edith says she’s not only a good nurse but sensible, and even her ladyship has no cause for complaint.”

I was pleased; and all the time I was thinking of leaving England, of saying goodbye to the strange solitude of the Queen’s House. Often people talked of leading a new life. It was a recognized cliché. But this would truly be a new life, a complete breakaway. Chantel was the only link with all that had happened.

But I was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps I had read Chantel’s implications incorrectly. Perhaps I was indulging in a wild dream as I had on at least one other occasion.

Ellen set the tea on a lacquered tray; she had used the Spode set. There was that delicate Georgian silver tea strainer. Oh well, it couldn’t make much difference now and this was after all a special occasion.

Ellen hung about for another glimpse of Chantel and when she had gone and we were alone in the house, Chantel began to talk.

“As soon as I heard there was a possibility of my being asked to go I thought of you, Anna. And I hated the thought of leaving you in this lonely Queen’s House with your future all unsettled. I thought I can’t do it. And then it all turned out so fortuitously … like the benign hand of fate. Poor old Beddoes being sent off like that. Of course she was quite incompetent and it would have happened sooner or later. Well then this magnificent idea came to me and I presented it to her ladyship.”

“In your journal you don’t say what she said.”

“That’s because I have a true sense of the dramatic. Don’t you realize that as you read? Now if I told you, the impact would have been lost. This was far too important. I wanted to bring the news to you myself.”

“Well, what did she say?”

“My dear, two-feet-on-the-ground-Anna, she did not dismiss it.”

“It doesn’t sound as though she were very eager to employ me.”

“Eager to employ? Lady Crediton is never eager to employ. It is for those whom she employs to be that. She is aloof from us all. She is a being from another sphere. She only feels convenience and inconvenience and she expects those about her to see that she is in a perpetual state of the former.”

She laughed, and I felt it was good to be with her again.

“Well, tell me what happened.”

“Now where did I leave off? I had implied that I would agree to travel with Mrs. Stretton if my friend could come as nurse or governess or whatever it was to the boy. And I saw at once that she thought this a convenient solution. I had so taken her off her guard by my presumption that she had not the time to compose her features into their usual mold of stern aloofness. She was pleased. It gave me the advantage.

“I said, ‘The friend to whom I refer is Miss Anna Brett.’

“‘Brett’, she said. ‘The name is familiar.’

“‘I daresay,’ I replied. ‘Miss Brett is the owner of the antique business.’

“‘Wasn’t there something unsavory happened there?’

“‘Her aunt died.’

“‘In rather odd circumstances?’

“‘It was explained at the inquest. I nursed her.’

“‘Of course.’ she said. ‘But what qualifications would this … person … have?’

“‘Miss Brett is the highly educated daughter of an Army officer. Of course it might be difficult to persuade her to come.’

“She gave a snort of a laugh. As much as to say whoever had to be persuaded to work for her!

“‘And what of this … antique business?’ she asked triumphantly. ‘Surely this young woman would not wish to give up a flourishing business to become a governess!’

“‘Lady Crediton,’ I said, ‘Miss Brett had a hard time nursing her aunt.’

“‘I thought you did that?’

“‘I was referring to the time before I came. Illness in the house is very … inconvenient … in a small house, I mean. And the strain is great. Moreover the business is too much for one to run. She is selling it and I know would like a change.’