Читать книгу The Nanny Arrangement - Lily George - Страница 10

Chapter Two

“Oh, Becky, whatever have you done with the bonnet Mrs. Parker ordered?” Nan poked her head into the sitting room where Becky made use of the early morning sunlight streaming through the window. Such fine stitches needed a lot of good light, and this room was best lit at dawn. “I thought I told you—we cannot afford to use that fine muslin for the brim. We cannot turn a profit if you keep using such expensive materials. Why didn’t you use the cotton I ordered from town?”

Heated words bubbled to Becky’s lips and her fingers trembled as she laid another fine stitch in the fabric. She took a deep, calming breath. If she were to do this for the rest of her life, she must maintain control of her temper. “The cotton is too rough and slubby for a dress bonnet,” she argued. “I only used a small bit of the muslin, and with the ruching I added, I conserved quite a bit of fabric.” There, she showed that she had given cost some thought. That cotton was just so terribly ugly. Why Nan ever bought it was a mystery.

“But I specifically told you to use the cotton, Becky.” Nan strode into the sitting room and cast herself down on the settee. “Honestly, the profit we’ll see on that bonnet is quite slim. The more money we earn on each sale, the more secure our finances. Surely you see that.”

“I do understand,” Becky replied in an even tone. “But the more alluring our bonnets, the more clients we should attract. If we use inferior materials, then we will lose the kind of genteel clientele that will spend a fortune on our creations season after season.”

“Yes, but if our bonnets are affordable and well-made, we will garner loyalty from the villagers—the women who cannot afford something grand, perhaps, but may require a bonnet that is sturdy and hard-wearing. Those women are the bread and butter of our shop.” Nan leaned forward, her mild blue eyes wide and cajoling. “Come, now. Susannah left the shop to our care when she married Daniel. Isn’t it up to the pair of us to see to it that it becomes a successful venture?”

Well, when Nan put things that way...Becky was hard-pressed indeed to think of a retort. To buy some time, she concentrated on another stitch, pursing her lips tightly together as she did so. Of course she didn’t want to see the shop fail. But what was the harm in offering lovely bonnets as well as serviceable ones? “If we restrict ourselves to one kind of trade, surely we chance losing a portion of our customers,” she admonished in as gentle a tone as she could manage. “After all, it was the commissions of three gentlewomen who gave us our start, if you will recall.”

“I know.” Nan leaped from her position on the settee and began pacing, a nervous habit that wore on Becky’s nerves. “But honestly, a simpler style of bonnet is more easily made, and I can train our other helpers to make them quickly. The finer stuff must be left to the two of us, and already we’re stretched thin as it is. The profits we make are higher, and they sell more quickly. And the villagers pay more quickly than gentry. I really do feel most strongly that we should stop making fancy creations and concentrate on the plain and sensible.”

Becky heaved a deep sigh. Plain and sensible. There was little room for imagination and artistry in the plain and sensible, particularly if Nan kept buying such dreadful fabric. She would be chained, for the rest of her life, to stretching scratchy cotton across buckram frames. A vista of ugly, cheap bonnets unfolded before her, and her heart gave a lurch of revolt. True, she was stuck. A spinster forevermore with no hope of marriage to Lieutenant Walker. But did that mean she needed to relinquish any sense of beauty in her life?

“I’m going to see Susannah,” she declared, casting the bonnet to one side and rising from her chair. “She founded the shop. I’ll put my case to her.”

“I shall go too,” Nan rejoined. “After all, I have been seeing to it that the shop is a gainful venture since I took over.”

“Since you took over?” Anger surged into Becky’s being, leaving her trembling in its wake. “The shop was given to both of us when Susannah married. We are equal partners, Nan.”

“We would be, if you had a practical bone in your body! But honestly, how are we to make any money at all if you squander our resources? It’s been up to me to make sure that the shop stays profitable.”

“If you say that word once more, I shall scream.” Becky took her own bonnet from the peg near the front door and clamped it on her head, rebellion singing through her veins. “Since the store is so beholden to you, you can stay here to manage it while I talk to our sister.”

She flounced out of the shop and slammed the door shut behind her. Whatever had taken hold of her? Even if she wasn’t the practical one in the family, she had always gotten along well enough with her sisters. Why was she letting Nan needle her so? And why was she getting angry over each little thing?

“Because they’re not little things any longer.” She spoke the words aloud as she scuffed the grass with the toe of her boot. For once, the distance to Goodwin Hall was worthwhile. She needed time to compose her thoughts. If she couldn’t put her argument to Susannah sensibly, then her elder sister would simply say that her emotions were running too high. That would discredit her argument before she’d even begun.

“If I can’t have beauty and purpose in my life, Lord, everything seems hopeless.” The moor didn’t care if she prayed aloud. Saying the words was strangely calming. If she couldn’t be married and have a home of her own, she would have to find fulfillment in work. If the methods of her work were being proscribed, well, then it felt as though the walls were closing in on her.

She continued to mull over those thoughts, and breathed lungful after lungful of fresh air. Already the blond stone walls of Goodwin Hall loomed on the horizon. Goodwin meant Susannah, and Susannah meant wise counsel.

Yes, Susannah would surely see her side of the matter. Why had she taken this long to see her sister? She’d pinned all her hopes on a proposal from Lieutenant Walker, that’s why. No need to raise a fuss when she had been so certain that she would marry and leave the shop. Well, that wasn’t happening, and she needed to make the best of her situation. The blank horror of the lieutenant’s desertion still held her in its grasp.

In time she would grieve over her dead romance. Now she must think of her future. If she wasn’t to be anyone’s bride, she should at least be allowed a say in her own business.

She gathered her skirts and mounted the wide, gracious steps of the hall. No sooner had she set foot on the second step than the door opened, and Baxter stood, waiting with a patient and solemn air.

“Miss Rebecca. No one told me you were coming.” The butler, no doubt accustomed now to the clockwork precision Susannah had imposed on the manor house, frowned. “But you are welcome all the same. Mrs. Hale is in the library.”

“Don’t fret, Baxter,” she reassured him as she strolled into the vestibule. “This is an impromptu call.” She removed her bonnet, intending to hang it on a peg; but with consummate skill, Baxter slipped it out of her grasp and placed it on the nearby mahogany table.

“Yes, Miss Rebecca. Mr. Holmes is visiting as well. They are having tea. I’ll bring another setting for you.” With a wave of his hand, Baxter shooed her down the hallway toward the library.

Paul Holmes? Becky slowed to a halt before the library door. If Paul was here, had he told them about meeting her on the moor yesterday? How was she supposed to speak with Susannah about the shop if they had company? Oh, this was just like her, to meet him here again. She grasped a tendril of hair that slipped loose from her chignon and twirled it.

Where was the courage that stiffened her spine yesterday? She’d had no qualms about defending herself to Paul then. Circumstances were different, though. Confronting Paul, Susannah and Daniel all at once was, well, akin to bearding a lion in its den.

Becky took a deep, steadying breath and deftly unwound her finger from her hair. Then she pushed open the door.

Daniel and Paul rose as she entered the room, and Susannah turned in her chair. “Becky, my dear, we weren’t expecting you. Not that you aren’t welcome, of course.” Susannah kissed her cheek as Becky leaned down, and then Susannah glanced over her shoulder. “Where’s Nan?”

“At the shop.” Becky settled across from her sister, nodding her hellos to Daniel and Paul. Paul caught her glance and held it so long that heat began rising in her cheeks. She averted her gaze and turned a fraction to the right in her chair so he could only see her in profile. There. It was altogether uncomfortable to be stared at. He needn’t be so fresh.

Susannah glanced over at Becky, her gray-green eyes keen and perceptive. “Whatever is the matter?” Then she turned to Daniel. “Would you ring the bell? I’ll have Baxter bring more tea things so Becky may join us.”

“Baxter already said he would.” If only she could somehow, wordlessly communicate the need for privacy with Susannah. She lifted her eyebrows and widened her eyes, silently pleading for Susannah to understand.

“Something is wrong. Out with it,” Susannah commanded in that familiar, eldest sister tone of voice. The morning sunlight gilded her auburn hair, touching it with gold. “Have you two been quarreling again? Honestly,” she turned to her husband, “sometimes I think I should have kept the shop. But Becky and Nan got on so well when we were all together. Now that I am not there, they fight. If I weren’t so busy with Goodwin...”

How provoking to be talked about like she was just a child, squabbling with Nan over a toy. “She has no artistic spirit at all, Susannah,” Becky burst out. “All she cares about is how much money we can make. She runs roughshod over my designs, and insists I work with inferior materials.”

Susannah shook her head. “Becky, do calm yourself. Remember, you can always count ten.”

Becky rolled her eyes. Count ten indeed. That was Susannah’s remedy for her truly awe-inspiring temper.

“You two must learn to work together. What Nan proposes is sound. We cannot expect only genteel clientele. Now that we are thoroughly entrenched in Tansley Village, we must include the kinds of goods that everyone can afford.” Susannah spoke as though she were reasoning with a toddler.

Becky opened her mouth to protest, but Daniel cut her short, a reassuring smile hovering around his lips. “Shall we give you two some privacy?”

“Actually, I have a solution I think could benefit us all.” Paul’s voice, rumbling from his corner, jerked Becky to attention. “If it’s amenable to the lady, I’d like to hire Becky.”

* * *

Three pairs of eyes turned toward Paul—Susannah’s startled gray-green gaze, Daniel’s bemused green eyes, and a pair of violet-blue, decidedly defiant ones that belonged to Becky. Well, at least he had her attention, even if she did seem a little affronted by his presence.

“I haven’t told anyone this, but my youngest sister, Juliana, passed away.” As he spoke, Becky’s mouth opened slightly, and the rebellious light in her eyes dimmed. He glanced away. Susannah made a murmur of apology, but he cut her short with a wave of his hand. If anyone showed him sympathy now, he might break down and that would not be acceptable. Better to stick to the facts of the matter at hand. “She died of a fever in Italy, where she had been living for some time. She left behind a daughter who is now my ward.”

“I am sorry to hear that Juliana died, old fellow.” Daniel shook his head and sighed. “I know she was your favorite sister.”

“Yes, well. She’s gone.” His tone was brusque, even to his own ears, and he covered the moment by clearing his throat. “The point of the matter is that her daughter, Juliet, is coming to live with me. She’s only about two years old. I’ve no idea if Juliana employed anyone suitable for her care—” lovable, impractical Juliana; how ridiculous to think of her employing servants, much less caring for a child! “—and at any rate, I want a proper English girl to bring her up. At least until I can place her in school.” He clenched his jaw, wrestling back any traces of grief. “Becky, I would like it if you cared for Juliet until she is of age.”

“But Becky has no experience as a governess.” Susannah’s brows drew together. “She also has her duties at the shop to consider. Surely there is someone among your tenants or ours that could do? At least until a nursemaid can be hired from London?”

Paul raised his head and fixed Becky with a searching look. If she didn’t appear interested, then he would have no choice but to agree with Susannah. But Becky sat back in her chair, twirling a lock of her brown hair around one finger, an absorbed expression drifting across her features. “I’ve thought of that, too,” he admitted. “But the circumstances of Juliet’s birth, and of Juliana’s stay in Italy, might be cause for gossip among people who don’t know my family well. I can’t raise my niece under a cloud of disgrace. I feel I can trust your family with decorum. Moreover, Becky bears a passing resemblance to my sister. That could make the adjustment easier for Juliet.”

“The child’s comfort and welfare must be considered above all else,” Daniel agreed. “If you feel that Becky is the right person for the job, then it remains only to see how the shop can fare without her there, and whether or not she feels equal to the task.”

Paul shifted his regard back over to her, and Becky raised her eyes to his. There was no defiance, no rebellion, no anger or annoyance in her gaze any longer.

“I feel equal to the task.” Though the words were spoken quietly, there was strength to her tone that was intensely heartening. “In truth, I am glad of the opportunity.”

“But Becky, what of your duties at the shop? Of course, I am gratified for Paul’s trust in our family—” Susannah gave him a brisk nod “—but you cannot care for a child and continue to work as a milliner. The shop was our dream, don’t you remember? You can’t simply give up on it and allow your sister to carry the weight alone.”

“The shop was your dream, not mine.” While Becky didn’t mince words, her tone remained gentle and strong. “When we worked together, it was fun. I love designing bonnets, Susannah. And I love all the handiwork that goes with it. But since you left, it’s not enjoyable any longer. Nan and I argue all the time. I feel stifled now, as though I don’t have a say in anything that happens.”

Susannah sat back against her chair, flinging her hands in the air. “You two never argued before. I was envious of your closeness, in fact, before I wed Daniel. And now?” She shook her head as though exasperated by her sister.

“Before you left the shop, you hired Bets and Rose. They help Nan with much of the work. Most of my designs are discarded or greatly altered before Nan will allow them onto the shop floor. I don’t do much for the business any longer, Susannah. It’s ruining my friendship with Nan. You’re right—we used to get on much better than we do now. We fight. I want the chance to stay close to her, even if we don’t agree.” Becky turned to Paul. “When will Juliet arrive?”

Paul shrugged. “I was informed of Juliana’s death only recently. Daniel, you recall my younger brother, George, the sea captain? He made arrangements so that my niece could travel to England in one of our yachts. So I expect she should arrive within a week. I am sending a servant to meet the boat.” That would be the best way to handle it. No personal connection that way. Nothing to upset or disturb his routine. Perhaps he could even arrange to be away when she arrived. That way, he wouldn’t be reminded of Juliana or her lonely death.

“No, indeed. We shall travel there together. Poor child, she will be so frightened and confused—” Becky broke off as a discreet knock sounded on the door, and Baxter entered with another setting for tea. “Thank you, Baxter. I am famished.”

The butler gave a courtly nod and excused himself. Paul allowed Becky’s comment to fade. He was her employer and he would decide when and even if they were going to meet Juliet’s boat or not. But he still needed to win Becky fully to his side. The time for setting out the rules would be later.

Susannah turned to Daniel. “She’s already made up her mind, and I appear to have no say in this. Consider my throne well and truly abdicated.”

Daniel threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t know that it’s such a bad idea. What Becky says is true. The shop seems to be harming her relationship with Nan. Why not allow her to try something new? As long as the shop is well staffed and Nan isn’t too burdened. Paul needs someone whom he can trust to be discreet. This opportunity could work out for the best for everyone involved.”

Susannah sighed and shook her head, turning to Paul. “My only wish is that we do all this on a trial basis. Becky has no experience with raising children. If she doesn’t like the job or doesn’t perform well with it, I think we should ask you to find a replacement. Does that meet with everyone’s approval?”

“I am sure Becky will do fine. Like all females, I am sure she has a mother’s instinct,” Paul rejoined in a hearty tone of voice—one that, hopefully, masked his relief. He’d not given much thought to how difficult it would be to talk of Juliana’s death aloud. “But if she’s not happy within three months, I’ll make inquiries of an agency in London.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the most difficult part of their discussion. “There must be some living arrangements, too. Juliet is so young—she will need care at all times of the day and night. I can either make arrangements for Becky to live in the east wing of Kellridge or I will need to provide her with a horse and carriage so that she can be reached at any time.”

The color in Becky’s cheeks rose and she gave her sister an uncertain glance as she sipped her tea. “I hadn’t thought of that. Juliet will need to have someone about at all times.”

Susannah straightened her posture and fixed Paul with a pointed gaze. Susannah’s expression could be truly formidable at times. “Paul has said he trusts our family. Therefore, I must return that trust in equal measure. If Paul can make the east wing your living quarters, and control any gossip so that no one will think anything untoward about your presence there, then I will agree. Provided you are comfortable with the arrangement.”

Paul’s heart began to beat hard against his rib cage. If only Becky would agree to the plan. He wouldn’t have to see Juliet at all, then. He could trust she was being well cared for, and he could make plans to be away from home as much as possible. He’d have little contact with the child. Then he would not have to suffer any painful reminders that Juliana was gone.

“I have to agree with my wife,” Daniel rumbled from his chair. “As long as everything is quite honorably handled, I would consent to Becky becoming a live-in nursemaid. I know it will, for you’ve already said you don’t want to incite gossip.”

Paul nodded. According to plan, this new development in his life would be handled to a nicety. The east wing would become Juliet’s nursery, and Becky would be there to care for her at all times. There you go. Every emotion, every detail, neatly tucked into its own compartment. He would never have to feel pain or anguish. He could continue living his life as he enjoyed, knowing that he upheld his duty in caring for Juliet. “Everything will be taken care of. As long as Becky accepts the position and these arrangements. At least for three months, so that we may see how it fares.” He turned to Becky, fixing her with the same look of authority he wielded with his servants. “Well, Becky? Will you be Juliet’s nursemaid?”

Becky drew herself up with a prideful gesture and placed her teacup to one side. Then she gave a regal nod. “I will.”