Free Virtue of a Governess by Anne Brear Page B

slipped into the managing role surprised her. This morning she had started to make inventories of everything in the house, from attics to cellar and outside. After breakfast she had spoken with Mrs Eldersley, who’d handed over the keys without murmur. In fact, Nicola suspected the older woman was relieved of the burden.
    “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