Anne Brear Read online

  “Nicola!” Meg rushed back into the room. “You are needed.”

  “What is it?”

  “New arrivals.”

  Blinking in alarm, she untied her apron and smoothed her hair. “I didn’t expect…How many?”

  “Three.”

  “Three?” She hesitated by the door leading into the hallway. “Is Mr Belfroy with them?”

  Meg wrinkled her nose. “No. From what I can gather they’ve heard about this place and decided to try their luck here without any introduction. I hardly think any of them has a penny to their name.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Shall I send them away then?”

  “Well, no…” Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and headed for the front door where Meg had left them.

  Nicola kept a welcoming smile on her face as she glanced over the small huddle of women by the door, despite her heart dipping in pity at the sight of them. Bedraggled, thin and with the air of hopelessness about them, three pairs of eyes stared at her. How could she turn them away? Isn’t this what Mr Belfroy had wanted, a home for the unfortunates? “Welcome. Please, won’t you come through to the sitting room?” She waved them in and then turned to Meg. “Bring in a tea tray and sandwiches, whatever we have,” she whispered.

  The women stood just inside the door, not daring to wander further into the sitting room. Each held small amounts of luggage, their clothes faded and in parts frayed.

  Nicola went to stand by the unlit fireplace that had been allowed to go out as this morning the sun had promised spring warmth and she’d opened the windows to freshen the room. “Please, won’t you sit down?”

  “We are not entirely clean, Madam,” the tallest of the three answered, her cheeks reddening enough to match the colour of her hair beneath her bonnet.

  “I’m Miss Nicola Douglas. I’m in charge of this lodging house. Please, I insist you sit.” She smiled warmly, hoping to put them at ease.

  “I’m Miss Florence McIntyre,” the red-head responded, being the first to perch on the edge of the sofa. She looked up at the two women beside her. “This is Miss Lydia Golding and Miss Susanna Nugent.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”

  “Do you have rooms, Miss Douglas? We heard that the fees here are very small, only five shillings, that’s half of what we had to pay at the Governess Home. And we heard that if you have no money you can still stay, is that true?” Miss McIntyre’s stare bore at Nicola, and she couldn’t help but see the desperation in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Do you have rooms, or even just one room? We’ll happily share.”

  “Yes. We’ll fit you all in somehow.”

  The three women seemed to deflate in front of her eyes. At once and in unison, their shoulders sagged and they dropped their bags to the floor with obvious relief. Miss Golding started coughing harshly, which made the other two crowd around her to comfort her.

  Meg brought in the tea tray, her eyes flashing anger. “That maid isn’t worth the air she breathes!” Then, remembering their guests, she clamped her lips together and placed the tray on the small table as Nicola made the introductions.

  Miss Nugent, a small thin woman with bright corn coloured hair and spectacles came to stand beside Nicola. “Thank you, Miss Douglas. You have saved our lives. One more night in the open and I think poor Miss Golding would have perished completely.”

  “In the open? You spent the night in the open?” Nicola gasped.

  “Why yes, with no money we had nowhere to go. An innkeeper’s wife down by the docks mentioned this place this morning when she found us sleeping in the lean-to behind her public house.”

  Righteous indignation at their plight fired through Nicola. How could this happen. What was the government doing to allow such women to be homeless and without hope?

  Meg handed her a cup of tea, her face solemn. “You have a home here, Miss Nugent.”

  “We are indeed fortunate,” Miss McIntyre said, between sips of tea. “There are some ladies who never receive help and die alone.” Her voice had a Scottish accent.

  “Yes, that’s all too true,” Miss Nugent added. “We must thank the Lord for His deliverance.”

  Meg glanced at Nicola and rolled her eyes. “In my experience, the Lord helps those who help themselves.”

  “Thank you, Meg.” Nicola grabbed her elbow and steered her towards the door before she said anything else to cause offence. “Can you organise to have a bath drawn. I’m sure the ladies require a bath after their unfortunate experience.”

  Meg leaned in close. “Where’s that lazy Irish slut of a maid? She can do it.”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, “I haven’t seen her all morning.” She straightened and with a smile turned back to the women. The absence of their useless maid was the least of her problems. “Ladies, I’m afraid you’ll have to share a room, as the house is rather full at the moment.”

  “We don’t mind, Miss Douglas.” Miss McIntyre stood and gathered the luggage. “We are grateful for whatever you can spare.”

  “Well, finish your tea while I organise the room.” Nicola bade for Miss McIntyre to resume her seat and left them. At the bottom of the stairs she closed her eyes for a moment. To accommodate the ladies would mean two of the current ladies sharing. She knew immediately that Miss Burstall would never share and Miss Downing’s plight meant she needed a room to herself. With a sigh, Nicola mounted the stairs, knowing her little bit of solitude that was her bedroom would now be gone, for Meg would have to share with her.

  * * *

  After a slight tap on the door, Nicola entered Mrs Eldersley’s room.

  “Miss Douglas,” Mrs Eldersley smiled in welcome from the bed. “How are you faring downstairs?”

  “I’m coping so far.” Nicola smiled, sitting on the wooden chair by the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. Mr Belfroy sent me a message saying my ship leaves for England in three days time and my cabin is all fitted out. He’s tremendously kind.”

  “Indeed he is.” Nicola took her hand and patted it. “Meg says you’ve been eating well and have even made it downstairs on two occasions.”

  “Yes. I know I could go down more, but the house is so full and I do not feel ready to talk to strangers yet. Since my dear husband left us I feel so adrift. We were together for many years, most of my life actually, as we were friends since childhood.”

  “I understand.”

  “The sea voyage will restore me to myself again, I’m certain, and seeing my sister again will help fill the loss.”

  “I sincerely hope so, Mrs Eldersley. You have shown nothing but kindness to many women and you deserve peace and contentment.”

  “Some guilt remains that I am leaving you all, but I know you can do this work very well, Miss Douglas. You have the correct temperament and spirit and you are young.”

  Nicola smiled. “I must confess this path is something I never expected to take.”

  “We should always seize what opportunities are given to us, Miss Douglas. Who knows what the future will bring?”

  “Yes, that is true.”

  Mrs Eldersley’s expression grew serious. “But you mustn’t let your life be taken over by others.” She patted Nicola’s hand. “Do you understand? Make sure you have something of your own, too. Being old and alone isn’t recommended, my dear.”

  “I’ll remember your words, Mrs Eldersley.” However, inside, she knew that her work would be her life. There wouldn’t be many opportunities to find a husband and she wouldn’t simply settle for anyone just to avoid being alone.

  Resting back on the pillows, the older woman nodded. “Now, Meg told me Mr Belfroy is arriving shortly. Is anything amiss?”

  “I think Meg talks a great deal.” Nicola laughed. “No, nothing is wrong. I simply need to talk to Mr Belfroy in regards to the future of this lodging house.”

  “But why? Do you have concerns?”

&n
bsp; “No, not at all, but I must know how it all works. Taking in those three ladies yesterday put us at a stretch. I must know that Mr Belfroy is in agreement with it.”

  “Oh, my dear, I can take that worry from you immediately. Mr Belfroy will never turn anyone away. His instructions to you will be the same as he gave me. Take care of the women and he’ll take care of the rest. All bills are simply forwarded to him, once they’ve been checked.”

  “I see.”

  “Never think you are doing the kind man a disservice, for he supports this cause completely.”

  “But the money…The food bill alone is substantial and then there is the fuel-”

  “Dear Nicola, do not fret a moment longer. Mr Belfroy has the finance. Forget the bills and help these women find some respectability and security. That is your main and only concern here.” She smiled warmly, showing a glimpse of a forgotten beauty. “This occupation needs someone young and industrious to make it a success. I was too old, too concerned with my Jim to fully participate, you understand?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, feeling lighter of heart. “I am going to be selfish and say that I wish you were staying with us. I need your guidance and counsel.”

  “Nonsense, Nicola. You need neither from me. I’ve never known such a determined woman as yourself. I have no doubt you will excel in this work, and that you were sent here for this very reason.”

  “I will never excel at anything if I don’t find suitable servants to engage.”

  “You let go the Irish one?”

  “Yes, an hour ago.” Nicola sighed.

  “Go to the docks when you know an immigrant ship has arrived. Secure them fresh off the boat before they have a chance to be corrupted by the ways of others. That’s what I had to do when in need of maids for Mr Belfroy’s house. It’s undignified, I grant you, but it’s always best to trust your own instincts on such things.”

  Nicola left Mrs Eldersley’s bedroom and headed downstairs to the sitting room. Thankfully, she found it empty and contemplated a few minutes sitting down reading the newspaper, but then remembered it was Wednesday and the soup kitchen needed her.

  Kneading the knot of strain from her neck, she went out into the hall and took her cloak and hat from the hook on the wall. After an hour helping Frances, she’d visit the butchers and place an order before stopping at the haberdashery to buy some buttons and thread. Perhaps after that she could take a walk along the harbour. She quickly scrawled a note telling of her intentions. Smiling, she let herself out of the house. How funny it was when, not so long ago, she’d been terribly alone and now, she was surrounded by people, all she wanted was a peaceful hour’s walk.

  At the end of the street she caught a hansom to take her to Lower George Street, and within a short time she was striding down the lane to the old warehouse. As usual, the human lines crept slowly forward and she smiled to some children she’d come to know and gave a penny she kept in her pocket to an old man, crippled with arthritis.

  Finally she made it inside and started to unbutton her cloak when she spotted Frances on the far side of the room and next to her was her brother, Nathaniel West.

  Nicola’s chest tightened as he saw her and gave her a wry smile. What was it about him that made her heart thump erratically whenever he was near? Why did she react to him? He was nothing to her, less than nothing, for she didn’t like his arrogance, rudeness, or his superior manner. He was so much the opposite to Frances that she wondered how they could be related.

  Still, their very connection meant, at times, she would have to be in his presence, and so she had to hide her confused thoughts about him. Nicola would act as he did, as though he was beneath her notice. She only hoped she could pull it off as well as he did.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicola, you came.” Frances beckoned her over.

  With a sinking heart, Nicola weaved between the trestle tables and benches and joined them behind the cauldrons of soup. She gave Frances a kiss on the cheek, the whole time conscious of Mr West’s stare. “How are you, Frances?”

  “Well, my dear. I’m so glad you came. I thought you wouldn’t have the time now that lodging house has stolen you from me.” Frances turned to her brother. “You remember, Miss Douglas?”

  “Absolutely.” He bowed. “Miss Douglas.”

  “Mr West.” She inclined her head stiffly, noting the greenish-purple bruising surrounding his right eye and wondering what had caused it.

  “Are you aware it is my sister’s birthday today, Miss Douglas?”

  Nicola smiled at Frances. “No, I had no idea. Oh, you should have mentioned it before, Frances.” She hugged her close. “My very best wishes to you.”

  “Nonsense. Birthdays are awful days reminding a person how old they are getting, nothing to be celebrated in the least. I’m thirty, a disgusting age for a woman, neither young nor old, and definitely not worth rejoicing.”

  “But celebrate we will.” Mr West turned to Nicola. “I’m taking my sister out for the day once she has everything here underway, would you care to join us, Miss Douglas?”

  “Oh, yes do, Nicola!” Frances urged, untying her apron.

  Nicola shook her head. “I don’t think so, Frances. It’s a family occasion. I can help here.”

  “Pathetic excuse, Miss Douglas.” Mr West smirked, his eyes darkening in challenge. “Birthdays must be shared by family and dear friends.”

  “Nat’s correct, Nicola. You are one of my dearest friends. I insist you join us. My day will be ruined without you.”

  “Frances, I’m expected back-”

  “We’ll send a note to the lodging house and tell them to cope alone for a few hours. They’re all grown women. Surely they can manage that.” Frances glanced up as two young women and Mrs Lawson arrived. “Oh, our replacements. I’m naughty Nicola, as soon as Nat arrived wanting to take me out, I wanted you to come so I organised for two women to take our place.” She grinned like a cheeky child. “Do put your cloak on, Nicola. I insist upon it.”

  Within a short time, Nicola found herself back out on the street climbing into Mr West’s elegant carriage. Frances had paid a young boy to deliver a message to the lodgings and despite her last attempts to forgo the entertainment, Nicola was beaten down by Frances’s arguments that she must accompany them.

  “Where will we go, Nat?” Frances grinned, looking mischievous. Today she wore a dark blue skirt and matching bodice with a white blouse beneath. A black hat covered her short hair and Nicola realised that when dressed properly, Frances West was indeed an attractive woman, especially when she smiled instead of wearing her usual scowl.

  Mr West relaxed into the seat, giving the appearance of a gentleman at ease, but watching him, Nicola could tell it was a front to the world. His violet eyes were watchful, his smile strained and more telling to her was the tapping of his fingers on his thigh. Underneath his calm expression she felt tension radiate from him like heat. She didn’t understand why she had such insight, especially in respect of this man, but something about him caught her awareness so acutely, she wanted to stare at him. However, when he raised a sarcastic eyebrow at her attentions, she blushed and looked away.

  “I thought that since this was your special day, dear sister, that we would have a picnic. The weather is fine enough.”

  “Wonderful idea.” Frances beamed. “I haven’t been on a picnic for…” She frowned. “Well, fancy that, I can’t even remember the last time I went on a picnic.”

  “Probably because you spend all your time with the poor.”

  “Don’t start, Nat, please.” Frances’s scowl reappeared. “Not today.”

  “No. I apologise.” Nat took her gloved hand and kissed the top of it. “Forgive me.”

  Frances smiled tenderly. “Don’t I always?”

  Nicola shifted in her seat at their show of sibling love. Suddenly she felt more alone than ever before. There was no one to love her, to care for her as Frances had. Her father’s love had been the one constant thing in
her life. She had adored him, his kindness, his intellect, the way he would smile when she did something for him, the way he always had time to share with her. She’d felt his passing far more keenly than her mother’s. When he died from a short illness a light went out in her world, and although she had her mother for another six months, they’d never shared a strong bond for her mother’s continued ill health had made her a fragile woman for many years, one who took little interest in anything outside of her bedroom.

  “Here we are.” Mr West tapped on the side of the carriage and the driver halted the horses at the top of a steep bank. A small jetty poked into the water and tied up at the end of it was a wooden boat. They’d travelled away from the city, keeping the harbour on their right, but around them the bush grew wild with only a few wooden shacks showing evidence of human occupation.

  “Where are we, Nat?” Frances asked as he helped them down from the carriage.

  “At an inlet. The river goes up to Parramatta, but we shan’t go that far. Come along.” He handed them down the rough stone steps cutting into the bank and soon they were seated in the wooden boat and being introduced to a man, Bill Coates, who’d pull the oars.

  “Now, Nat.” Frances frowned. “We’re too heavy for one man to row. Help him out.”

  “Frances.” Nat laughed. “I don’t think-”

  “You rowed at Cambridge, you can row us.” She settled into the boat and handed him one of the spare set of oars. “Show us your strength, or is it beneath you to row two females to a picnic?”

  “Is this some kind of test?” He fumed, sitting at the other end of the boat.

  “I’m sure I can manage, sir,” Bill Coates mumbled through his full beard. “The tide is with us.”

  “Nay, Mr Coates, my sister, as is her habit, has set me a challenge, one I cannot ignore.” Shrugging off his fine grey jacket, he glared at Frances and set the oars into the water.