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 good-bye 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.’
“She had decided right from the start that she wanted you and the objections were purely habit. She merely did not want me to think that she was eager. And the outcome is that you are to present yourself for an interview tomorrow afternoon. When I return I shall tell her whether or not you are coming for the interview. I made her understand that I would have to persuade you—and that my accompanying Mrs. Stretton might well depend on your acceptance.”
“Oh, Chantel…it can’t!”
“Well I daresay I should have to go in any case. You see, it is my job and I feel that I’m beginning to understand poor Monique.”
Poor Monique! His wife! The woman to whom he had been married when he came here and led me to believe… But he didn’t. It was my foolish imaginings. But how could I look after his child?
“It sounds rather crazy,” I said. “I had thought of advertising to help an antique dealer.”
“Now how many antique dealers are looking for assistants? I know you’re knowledgeable but your sex would go against you, and it would be a chance in ten thousand if you found one.”
“It’s true,” I said. “But I need time to think.”
“There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”
I laughed. “And you think this is such a tide?”
“I know that you shouldn’t stay here. You’ve changed Anna. You’ve grown…morbid. Who wouldn’t, living in such a place…after all that happened?”
“I have to let the house,” I said. “I can’t sell. I never should. So much needs to be done for it. The house agent has found a man and his wife who are passionately interested in old buildings. They would have the house and look after it and do the repairs, but I should get no rent for three years during which time they undertake to do all that is necessary.”
“Well that settles it.”
“Chantel! How can it!”
“You without a roof over your head. Your tenants will do the repairs and live in the house. Of course it’s the answer.”
“I have to think about it.”
“You have to make an appointment to see Lady Crediton tomorrow. Don’t look alarmed. It wouldn’t be final even then. Come and see her. See the Castle for yourself. And think of us, Anna. And think too how lonely you would be if I went away and you joined that miserable antique dealer whom you haven’t found yet and probably never will.”
“How do you know the antique dealer will be miserable?”
“Comparatively so…compared with the excitement I’m offering you. I’ll have to go. I’ll tell Lady C. that you will come along and see her tomorrow afternoon.”
She talked of the Castle for some little time before she left. I was caught up in her excitement about the place. She had made me see it so clearly through her journal.
***
How quiet it was at night in the Queen’s House. The moon shone through my window filling the room with its pale light, showing the shapes in my room of those pieces of furniture which had not yet been sold.
“Tick tock, tick tock!” said the grandmother clock on the wall. Victorian. Who would want it? They had never been so popular as grandfathers.
I heard the creak of a stair, which when I was young used to make me think some ghost was walking, but it was only the shrinking of the wood. Silence all about me—and the hous
e, now denuded of the clutter of furniture, gaining a new dignity. Who could admire the paneled walls when they were hidden by tallboys and cabinets? Who could appreciate the fine proportions of the rooms when pieces of furniture were put there as I used to say “for the time being.”
Lately I had been picturing the house furnished as I should have liked to furnish it. In the hall I would have a Tudor chest like the one I had seen in an old house and had tried to buy but was outbidden. Fourteenth century with St. George and the Dragon carved on the front; a carved refectory table; high wooden chairs.
But what was the use of dreaming? I could not afford to live in the Queen’s House although it was mine, for if I did it would soon start falling into ruin. For its own sake I must leave it.
And this offer? To go right away, even out of the country. In the past I had dreamed of sailing on a ship to go to India to my parents. I remembered those days when I had walked down to the quay with Ellen and looked at the ships and dreamed of stowing away.
And now…the opportunity had come. I should be a fool to miss it.
I thought of what life would be like if I did. The utter loneliness. Trying to find a post. As Chantel asked: How many antique dealers were looking for an assistant at this moment?
And I could enjoy this excitement. Yes, I was excited. That was why I couldn’t sleep.
I put on my dressing gown. I went to the foot of the stairs. It was here that Aunt Charlotte had fallen on that night. It was here that I had stood with Captain Stretton. He was beside me holding the candle high, and we had gone downstairs together. I could recapture the excitement of that time, because I had believed that I was on the brink of a wonderful adventure. I had gone on believing that until that day when I had learned that he was married…had actually been married when he came here and laughed with me and made me feel—as I had not since my mother died—that I was of some importance to someone.
Down the stairs to the room where we had eaten together.
I could not bear to think of it now.
And I was proposing to go away to look after his child!
Where would he be? I had not asked Chantel. He was at the Castle now, I knew. I suppose he would go away soon but if I looked after his child there would be times when I saw him.
What was I doing walking about the house at night holding a candle in a beautiful gilded candlestick—the same one which he had held that night, for we had never sold it.
I was becoming eccentric. Young Miss Brett was becoming Odd Miss Brett; very soon she would be odd, old Miss Brett. And if I did not take this opportunity I would blame myself for the rest of my dull life.
And if I did, if I agreed to go and look after his child, what then?
***
I dressed myself with care. Neat, I thought, not rich nor gaudy. “The apparel oft proclaims the man”…or the woman for that matter.
I was thinking of Lady Crediton whom I had seen only once in the presence of Aunt Charlotte. That had been a long time ago. I was determined that she should not get the better of me.
Being apprehensive I seemed to acquire a cool indifference; not even those who knew me very well realized that it was assumed. Even Chantel believed me to be in command of myself, mistress of the situation. That was what Lady Crediton must believe.
I had ordered the local fly to take me to the Castle so that I should not appear windblown or flustered on arrival. In my brown costume, which Chantel had pointed out was not the color which most became me, with a rather sedate brown hat trimmed with straw-colored chiffon and my plain brown gloves, I thought I looked the perfect governess—as though I could accept authority while in my own sphere I could command it.
But why should I be concerned. If Lady Crediton decided against me, that would settle the matter, and I should not have to make the decision.
Did I want to accept? Of course I did, for even though I knew that if I did I should see the Captain again and that I could be bitterly hurt, I found the prospect irresistible.
There were two roads open to me. I could go on in my drab way or I could seek strange new adventures. But I said to myself: I could find disaster along either road. Who could say?
So…let Lady Crediton decide for me.
I was in that hall again. There were the tapestries. I could almost hear his voice. What an impression he had made! Surely after all these years I should have forgotten him.
“Her ladyship will see you now, Miss Brett.” That was the dignified Baines, spoken of with awe by Ellen, the rather comic Baines of Chantel’s journal.
I followed him up the stairs as I had on that other occasion. I felt as though I were going back in time and when he opened that door I should see Aunt Charlotte sitting there, bargaining for the escritoire.
She had changed little; she sat in the same high-backed chair; she was as autocratic as ever; but she was more interested in me than she had been on that other occasion.
“Pray be seated,” she said.
I sat down.
“I hear from Nurse Loman that you wish for the post of governess which is vacant.”
“I should like to hear more of it, Lady Crediton.”
She looked faintly surprised. “I understood from Nurse Loman that you were free to take the post.”
“I should be in a month or so, if it suited me.”
It was the way to treat her, as Chantel had said. And while she talked of my duties, my salary, one side of me was studying the room and assessing values in my usual way while the other was alert wondering what the outcome would be and trying to discover what I really wanted.
My lack of eagerness must have been an asset. Lady Crediton was so used to humility in those who worked in her household that any sign of independence disconcerted her and made her believe that any who showed it must have special qualities.
At length she said: “I shall be pleased, Miss Brett, if you agree to take this post and should like to see you here as soon as possible. I would be willing to make the same arrangement that I have with Nurse Loman. You would accompany the child to his mother’s home and if you did not wish to stay you would be brought back to England at my expense. As the child’s governess has already gone, we need her replacement as soon as possible.”
“I understand that, Lady Crediton, and I will let you know my decision within a day or so.”
“Your decision?”
“I have a business to clear up. I am sure it will take me the best part of a month.”
“Very well, but you can decide now. Suppose I agree to wait a month?”
“In that case…”
“The matter is settled. But, Miss Brett, I shall expect you to come as soon as possible. It is so…inconvenient for a child to be without a governess. I shall not take up references, since you have been recommended by Nurse Loman.”
I was dismissed; I came out of the room slightly dazed.
She had decided for me, but of course I should not have let her do that unless I had wanted her to.
Why deceive myself? As soon as Chantel had made this proposition, I knew that I was going to accept it.
***
It was mid-October before I left the Queen’s House. Everything was settled. I had cleared out to a dealer the remaining pieces at a great sacrifice. Only the famous bed remained which was the house’s heirloom and would never be moved. The new tenants were to arrive the day after I went to the Castle, and the keys of the house were with the house agent.
I walked through those empty rooms, seeing them as I never had seen them before. How lovely they were with the lofty carved ceilings which one had scarcely noticed before; the exciting little alcoves which had usually been occupied to invisibility; the buttery and stillroom restored to their original meaning. I was sure the new tenants would love the house. I had met them twice and the excitement in their eyes over the old beams, the herringb
one decorations on the panels, the sloping floors and so on had made me realize that they would cherish the house.
My bags were packed; the station fly would be at the door any moment now. I took one more look round the house and the bell was tinkling. The fly had come.
So I walked out of the old life into the new.
***
This was my third visit to the Castle, but how different it was from the two previous ones. Then I had been paying calls; now I had come in order to be part of its life.
I was received by Baines and very soon handed over to Edith. This was a concession and due to the fact that not only was I Chantel’s friend but Ellen had worked for me and, I presumed, given me a good reference.
“We hope you’ll be very comfortable here, Miss Brett,” said Edith. “If there is anything which doesn’t please you, you must let me know.” She had borrowed dignity from Baines. I thanked her and said that I was sure I should be comfortable during my stay in the Castle.
For that was what it was. We should be sailing in a month or so.
My room was in the turret which Chantel had described to me. The Stretton turret. Here lived the sick, hysterical Monique, Chantel and my charge.
I looked round the room. It was large and comfortably carpeted. The bed was a four-poster, small, uncurtained, early Georgian. There was a small chest, rather heavy—Germanic; with two chairs of the same period as the bed and one armchair. There was an alcove rather like the ruelle one finds in French châteaux and there were a table with a mirror, a hip bath, and toilet necessities. I should be more comfortable here than I had been in the Queen’s House.
No sooner had Edith left me to unpack than Chantel came in. She sat on my bed and laughed at me. “So you’re really here, Anna. It’s wonderful how everything works out as I want it.”
“Do you think I shall be all right? After all, I have never had anything to do with small children. Edward will probably loathe me.”